1001 Albums Summary

Good songs, good performance.. docking points because not really an album so much as some songs thrown together

I think the worst song on this album is Electioneering and if you had a whole album of songs the same quality as Electioneering, it would still be one of the best albums of the 90s If you took Let Down and put it in the middle of an album of 7 hours of fire alarms and dental drills, the strength of that song alone would bring it up to at least a 4

I don’t hate Meat Is Murder but I’m trying to be somewhat objective. Were I to rank my favorite groups, I imagine The Smiths would rank rather highly. I own a graphic novel about them and also Morrissey’s autobiography, which is the most hilariously overwritten book I’ve ever attempted to read. Yet I am unbiased enough to recognize that THIS album belongs nowhere near a greatest of all time list, particularly when a cursory review informs me that their (much better) self-titled debut is not featured. There are exactly 2 songs here in any sort of rotation for me (Headmaster Ritual and That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore). The title track is one of the dullest songs in existence, though I actually admire when a message is so in-your-face that no thought or interpretation is necessary. The original US release closes with How Soon Is Now? which is actually good enough to make the whole thing worth listening to, but alas that is not the version we’re reviewing.

I fucking adore Bat Out of Hell. I wish with all my heart that we could bring back this kind of big dumb loud 70s arena rock music. It’s an artistic achievement in bombast, maximalism, and some third thing to keep the rhythm of this sentence going. Every word Mr. Loaf sings is THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN THE WORLD and he makes you feel that. The melodrama here is fantastic. An 8.5 minute epic about marrying someone to get them agree to bang in car? Whatever the fuck is going on at the beginning of You Took the Words Right of My Mouth? Give Jim Steinman a posthumous Pulitzer. This stupid album just puts me in such a good mood. There’s a very real part of me that says to award this album with more stars than there are stars in the universe—and the universe is infinite. But four out of five ain’t bad

My good mood from yesterday has been dashed. Nothing here grabbed me in any way and I wished for the album to be over within seconds. Indeed, had it gone on any longer then I fear I would have been forced to grind up a CD by whoever is the opposite of this (the Ramones, obvi) and mainline it into my bloodstream.

Enthusiastic about this one. Stuff like this is what I was hoping to get out of the album generator idea.

I like Metallica pretty well but they’ve always been more of a greatest hits band than an album band for me. There’s songs here I like a lot, always was a big fan of Sanitarium, but i don’t really feel the need to listen to it straight through very often, if ever

Expected to like this more than I did. First track kinda banged but overstayed its welcome. Didn’t know they had a vocalist before Bruce. Would have been better with Bruce.

Again, sonically, musically, melodically, rhythmically, I really dig these dudes. But goddamn that guy’s voice kills me

I'm generally more inclined to listen to New Order than Joy Division but still goddamn, dude. Unknown Pleasures is so so so so so so so so so so fundamentally important and influential on so much of what I love that came after. Disorder is in contention for best "album 1, side 1, track 1" of all time IMO. Love the production. Martin Hannett was a genius but also a monster. Things like spraying an aerosol can in time with the beat to create a "mechanical" sound on She's Lost Control, which in turn presumably caused Trent Reznor to spontaneously come into existence.

Listened to this twice, initially felt solid about a 3 but it grew on me. Coldplay frustrates me because their stuff I like, I like really like a lot but so much of it is forgettable.

“Horses tore my limbs off and put them back on in a whole different order. I was like: "Shit, yeah, oh my god!" then I threw up."” -Michael Stipe I’ve been listening to this album since I was like 14 and read Please Kill Me for the first time. Every time I hear it, I appreciate more and more just how special it really is. This time I listened with the lyrics pulled up, following along with every single line and, again, it hit me like never before. This album is like the big bang. You don't have to like it, but you can't deny it. This is one of the most truly perfect pieces of recorded media ever created. Horses was, I believe, the first album released by one of the resident CBGB artists and, for that reason, has a claim to being the first punk album. By blending "intellectual" influences and contemporaries like Bob Dylan, Lou Reed, Television (Tom Verlaine is here!), and Talking Heads with the raw, simple, instrumentation of the Stooges, Ramones, and garage bands like the Kingsmen and Troggs, Patti Smith made a case for the NYC underground scene as something that demanded attention as it came to liberate us from the tyranny of masturbatory prog rock bullshit. There’s a reason she has been cited as an inspiration by everyone from Springsteen to Madonna (I'd argue there's a very direct line from the juxtaposition of sacred and profane in the version of "Gloria" on this record to that same trope being on display in "Like a Prayer") to Sonic Youth to Dua Lipa. Taylor Swift saying "I'm not Patti Smith" in the title track to TTPD was the closest she’s come to humility in the last 5 years. "Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine" sounds like some edge-lord shit today but in 1975 it was a genuinely stunning mission statement. Such a simple declaration of autonomy and rejection of tradition. The storytelling here is visceral. You've got suicide, alien abductions, sex, drugs, rock and roll, religion. The lyrics to every song are like 10 pages long and sound borderline improvised and driven purely by emotion at points. It's like she's speaking in tongues.

Kids, I must have been having a bad day when I first reviewed this but it’s actually quite very good. So yeah.

Dude I’m a pretty recent convert to Missy Elliott (actually listened to this for the first time like a month ago maybe) but she’s pretty fucking awesome and has some of the coolest aesthetic choices in music videos especially. Timbaland is also great here. A chorus that’s just saying “I’m such a good rapper”??? Babe what? I love this. I will probably restate this a 5 later after a few more spins.

I like this album but have nothing to say about it beyond reiterating that Brass In Pocket is a perfect pop song.

*Insert Principal Skinner "No, it's the children who are wrong" meme* I think I largely have fairly middle of the road takes. Usually, when things are highly regarded, I like them. I don't try to force myself to enjoy things that are popular, but I also don't try to be contrarian; the only thing worse than liking stuff just because other people like it is hating stuff just because other people like it. With that preface out of the way, I submit to you that Pink Floyd is not so much a band to me as they are a t-shirt brand. To me, Pink Floyd's entire career is like a concept album where the concept is "boring as shit" and every lead vocal sounds like it's being wheezed out by one of those cartoon wizards in a blue robe covered in stars and shit. Of all the albums that show up on every single "greatest albums" list, there is none that I find more alienating than this one. You cannot find me a thing I have attempted to listen to more while enjoying it less. Flashback to less than a week ago, when I gushed over Patti Smith for, as I put it, "liberat[ing] us from the tyranny of masturbatory prog rock bullshit." This album is incapable of penetrating my consciousness. I've heard the whole thing 900 goddamn times and cannot hum you a bar of a single song that didn't get overplayed on classic rock radio. I want you to imagine my brain as the prism on the album cover and this album is the light... Except rather than going through the prism and making a rainbow, it just bounces right the fuck off. I almost just wrote 😴 and called it a day. I guess if I had to pick a favorite song it would be the one where David Gilmour tunelessly moans like a ghost in the world’s most apathetic haunted house. I almost gave it a 1/5 but then I remembered that King Crimson album exists and I do like this album dramatically more than that one, in the same way that I'd like having all my teeth pulled out by a dentist dramatically more than I would hate having all my teeth knocked out by a UFC fighter. I also remembered I'm probably going to have to review a Rush album at some point (such review will read, in its entirety, "fart sounds + jack-off motions") so I can’t let my scale bottom out just yet.

This album is a pretty interesting time capsule for the state of play in British music circa 1990. Let’s set the scene. We're a couple years past the post-punk/new wave era but a couple years ahead of the Britpop era and everyone is either really sad, doing a lot of ecstasy, or both. Lovable Scottish coke fiend Alan McGee has stacked Creation Records with a pretty stellar roster of indie acts including, most relevantly to this discussion, the Jesus and Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine. Ride, the then-new kid on the Creation block, is clearly pulling from both of those bands but with more of a pop music sensibility. Most shoegaze/no-wave/noise rock groups had an ethos opposed to classic pop rock bands (The Beatles, et al) but Ride clearly has a reverence for that style of music. All of the dream-like soundscapes and heavy distortion but with much more focus on melody. More than fellow shoegazers, the influence that I hear most on this album is actually the Stone Roses which, again, makes sense given that they were the hottest commodity in British music for a very brief and beautiful flash in 1989-90. Turn down the fuzz a bit, mix the drums a bit lower and the vocals a bit higher, then like half these songs could be by the Roses. “This sounds like it could be by the Stone Roses” is about the nicest thing I can say about music. Special mention to the bass line on Seagull, the guitar tone on Paralysed, and every second of Vapour Trail. If I can borrow from the Tipton system, I’m gonna give this 4.5, maybe even 4.75. Like the Missy Elliott album, there’s decent odds I re-rate a perfect score in the future.

I liked this well enough. "Must hear before you die" feels like a stretch but it is a good album.

I'm older than everybody on this cover art and that's pretty fucked up. And I think the title is in the Twin Peaks font. CSN(and sometimes Y) are interesting because they're a supergroup that is arguably more popular than its predecessor bands. Like, I'd definitely call them more popular than Buffalo Springfield or the Hollies and probably the Byrds. David Crosby and Graham Nash are about as good at harmonizing and melody-crafting as anyone this side of Lennon/McCartney. And Stephen Stills is the second best songwriter/guitarist from Buffalo Springfield who subsequently joined this band. Neil Young is his own beast but he’s not here yet. One time I saw Graham Nash at the Lexington Opera House and he introduced every song by telling the story of what inspired it and like half the time the story was just the lyrics of the song. I don't even think it was intentional but it was really funny and for that reason, I will always love him. This album is a breeze to get through and there's always something pleasant or at least interesting going on. Vocal layers, lyrical complexity, the token “after a nuclear war” song that every single folk adjacent 60s singer had in the arsenal. Probably best enjoyed in an environment other than “in my office at work” or “in my kitchen cooking dinner” but that’s what I had to work with. If I'm being nitpicky, and I am being nitpicky because there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it, I'd prefer this to be structured a little differently. "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" is so fantastic that there's nowhere to go but down from there, so I wish it came way later in the album after some build, where it can be the "centerpiece" that it is. As it stands, I think the centerpiece honor goes to "Helplessly Hoping," which is admittedly their most streamed song on Spotify so maybe they’re better at this than I am. If I'm being extra nitpicky, and I am being extra nitpicky, because who's going to stop me? Kellen? I hate that part in "Wooden Ships" where they're talking about the purple berries. It’s annoying. But like this is still a no-skips album, no matter what order it's in and no matter how many berry-based diatribes there are. So, I don't know. Something I strongly believe is that you can never fully appreciate anything on a first listen, even if you immediately fall in love with it, and this is a good example of that. I’ve had the album on repeat all day, really since last night, and it’s grown on me more each time. I was pretty well locked in on a 3 on first listen then a 4 then up to a 5 then back down to a 4 (because of the berries. It’s always about the berries). I’m gonna give it the softest possible 5. Like when I took my driver’s license test those many years ago and the lady made a point of telling me I only passed by 1 point. Hoping for Neil Young soon

I wrote up a whole long thing and then I erased it because I don’t think I need that many words to say this album fucking rips and Neil Young is the greatest.

None of the songs are bad and most are well above average. But, prescient politics aside, it's just nothing special and feels like Radiohead going back and seeing what worked before (albeit in a mix-and-match manner), which, for better or worse, is an impulse that they generally resist. Basically taking Kid A(mnesiac) style lyrics and combining them with more OK Computer style instrumentals. The album is entirely too long and could have used some editing. I don't think there's too terribly much individual identity on these tracks. It's one of those things where I know every single one of them but can't match the titles to the songs. Just pick 3 to cut and it's a better album. Any 3. According to Wikipedia, "In 2008, Yorke posted an alternative track listing on Radiohead's website, omitting "Backdrifts", "We Suck Young Blood", "I Will" and "A Punchup at a Wedding,"" which would have knocked this down to a lovely 39:17. So, I removed those tracks and re-ordered the album per Thom's suggested alternative. It was an overall better experience. I just can't really tell you a situation outside a random album of the day generator where I feel inclined to sit down with this and listen front to back. Also the last Radiohead concert I went to had a very HTTT heavy setlist and I found it boring.

Godfuckingdamnit this is how it's done. Up there with the likes of The Byrds, Townes Van Zandt and Gram Parsons as far as being forebears of what we would now call alt country, John Prine is the embodiment of what hackish music journos would call a "songwriter's songwriter." He might not have been the biggest mainstream star, but pretty much anyone in the country/folk/Americana sphere with any sort of cultural cache will sing his praises endlessly. Bob Dylan once compared him to Proust—a stark contrast to that one time Bob Dylan got angry at me in 2019 (But at least he thought about me. ) Anyway, what John Prine is best at (and maybe is, in fact, THE best at), is crafting entire worlds within the span of a 3-4 minute song. There's so many songs out there that purport to "tell stories" but are effectively meaningless until you've been told what they're about and they become retroactively clever. But John Prine's songs don’t require explanation or close reading. They are effectively full on studies of characters who feel real, fleshed out, rounded, without needing to engage in too much interpretation. By the time Sam Stone dies of that overdose, you know him. There’s an image in your mind. You know things about this man that the song never tells you. But you know him. Excluding choruses, "Angel from Montgomery" is 3 verses, 12 lines. And yet, again, you can envision the subject and understand basically everything about her just from that sparse description. I've always interpreted "Hello In There" as a companion song, the perspective of the husband/old man/child that’s grown old/cowboy from "Angel from Montgomery"... just two sad people whose lives didn't go how they always thought they would. I’m not smart enough to read Proust but I can definitely apply some of that Hemingway iceberg shit to these songs. And the older I get, the more I can relate to some of these ideas. "Blow up your iPhone" doesn't sound as good as "blow up your TV" but the sentiment is the same. Just unplugging and living a real life. I dig that more and more every day. Growing up in an area that has basically been demolished by coal mining, "Paradise" is really personal to me.. I also used to play against Muhlenberg County's Quiz Bowl team and they were nice people. When I’m president, “Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore” will be the national anthem. I love John Prine. I love this album.

This is a bit hard for me to grade because it detours at times into holdcore (a term I just invented for the music that plays when you're on hold with customer service) and pretty much any given 10 seconds could be the "welcome back" stinger to a public access talk show. But I liked it well enough. Not something I’m putting on during a road trip or anything but it’s pleasant. Good album art too. And good Jaco Pastorius.

At a certain point a few years back, I decided that it was no longer worth my time follow new releases as closely as I did in the past. Anything worth hearing, I resolved, would make its way to me eventually but there was no need to rush. That, unfortunately, led me to become fairly insulated, only listening to the same stuff over and over ad nauseum, and it got boring. But I still wasn’t willing to put in the effort to look into every hyped up new release. So, my compromise was to dig into the past, exploring the already extant discographies of artists from yesterday. Sure enough, this has been pretty damn fulfilling for me, as I've found a veritable treasure trove of awesome shit that has just been sitting there for decades, waiting for me to find it. Weirdly, most of it was British and from the 90s. If I remember 2025 for nothing else, I will still think of it as the year I got, like, super into Britpop (my eventual Definitely Maybe review is going to be LONG), finding what came out of the UK in the early-mid-90s to be the first "movement" to match my love of what came out of CBGB in the mid-late-70s. Even before that, though, Supergrass had existed on the periphery of my awareness for quite some time. I first heard "Alright" after it was sampled by, of all people, Travie McCoy on that album that I had on iTunes for some reason back in 2010. Aside from that tangential connection, these dudes truly came onto my radar a few months ago and my immense enjoyment of this album was probably the single biggest direct factor that led me to pitch doing this project. I think it’s a pretty regular occurrence when talking about rock music (particularly older rock music) to hear about how impressive it is that x artist recorded y album when he was “only z years old” but it’s pretty fun to hear an album that unmistakably sounds like it was recorded by a bunch of young people and could only have been recorded by a bunch of young people. Gaz and his goofy sideburns were 17 when they started recording and you can tell; it's just got that energy, exuberance, hopefulness, feeling of invincibility, whatever you want to call it. It's infectious; Steven Spielberg saw the "Alright" music video and offered to produce a Monkees style television show, a veritable Sliding Doors moment if ever there was one. Over on channel.WAV, circa 9/12/2025, I said, "Supergrass has a remarkable ability to make me feel nostalgia for things that had no part in my own childhood." I don't know if that reads like as high of a compliment as I intend it to be, but I can listen to this thing and capture fleeting glimpses of feelings I haven't had since I was a kid. That's something truly magical. But, fleeting is the key word. The back half of the album sees whimsy give way to wistfulness and songs that have more of a melancholic vibe. I Should Coco is all the feelings of growing up packed into 40 minutes.

The Smashing Pumpkins had one of the stronger runs of any group in the 90s (before“they” disappeared right up “their” own ass) and I don’t think I ever hear anybody who isn’t a critic talk about it. Some of that is through no fault of the band but most of it owes to one William Patrick “Billy Pumpkins” “‘90s Morrissey” Corgan being like the biggest dick head in music (non-actual-criminal division) and doing shit like spending the last 30 years complaining about that one time Pavement was mean to him. In regard to the parts that are not the band's fault, there is a weird tendency to lump them in with the 90s post-Nirvana also-rans of the world, which is odd to me. They're not particularly pulling from the same influences and, whereas it was trendy in the 90s to be apathetic, Billy Corgan is not, by any stretch of the imagination, an apathetic person. It's hard to be aloof when you're so whiny. The laziest folks in the world will jump to point to Butch Vig's production of this album as evidence of the Nirvana coattail riding, despite Vig having also produced The Smashing Pumpkins' wonderful debut album, Gish, which came out 4 months before Nevermind. Billy Corgan will never let anyone forget this as long as he draws breath, but it's one of the few legitimate grievances he has with the world. Anyway, sonically we are cribbing from a neat mishmash. Billy loved him some shoegaze at this time and you can hear the influence of My Bloody Valentine and the Jesus and Mary Chain in the heavy distortion and vocal stylings. That's the biggest thing here but there's also some Black Sabbath in the riffs, some Queen in the bombastic arrangements, a sprinkle of The Cure and Prince in the production, and, very unfortunately, Rush, from whom elements of "Cherub Rock" were very blatantly lifted. This is a testament to the greatness of The Smashing Pumpkins because "Cherub Rock" is amazing while Rush is the musical equivalent of a 12 page single spaced book report about the ingredients on the back of a box of graham crackers. The production of this album was a bit of a nightmare. Billy wrote the songs in tandem with therapy sessions while dealing with suicidal ideation, which really comes through in songs like "Today." He also composed one of the most beautiful songs ever written and called it "Mayonaise." (Sic) James Iha and D'arcy Wretzky were in the midst of a breakup while recording and apparently had to be kept apart--the dysfunction led Billy Corgan to pull the legendary dick move of personally re-recording the bass and guitar parts. Iha and Wretzky are both credited on the album, but apparently neither of them actually play. Elsewhere, drummer Jimmy Chamberlin was staying true to his jazz roots by hitting rock bottom in his heroin addiction and disappearing for days on end. He also refused to use a click track when recording his parts and, yet, he's still the best goddamn part of this album. There’s a reason the drum roll on “Cherub Rock” is the first sound you hear on this record. I always see Jimmy called the Smashing Pumpkins' "secret weapon," which just isn't true when everyone in the world is saying it. Can you really be underrated when literally everyone with ears agrees that you're amazing? My question now to myself is whether this album is better than Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness, and I think it is. While Siamese Dream doesn't quite reach the same highs ("1979" has been my favorite song for as long as I have had a favorite song), it is also dramatically more consistent and doesn't suffer from the bloat of being 2 hours long. Remarkably in my travels, I’ve managed to come across a piece of writing that I feel perfectly sums up the Smashing Pumpkins experience. The following is an excerpt from an article (about Soundgarden) that originally ran in Spin in April of 1994 and which I think is a perfect microcosm of the Smashing Pumpkins. I have lightly edited the excerpt for clarity. “In the lobby bar of one of the tallest hotels, [Chris] Cornell and [Kim] Thayil are settling back with a couple of beers when Billy Corgan from Smashing Pumpkins wanders through, and decides to join them for a strawberry margarita. Corgan chatters about the pain of his life, the supposed incompetence of his band (everybody rolls their eyes), the lifesaving virtues of Jungian therapy, bands that suck. Cornell gets up to leave. Corgan tells Thayil how important Soundgarden used to be to him, and he baits him by saying that the Pumpkins sometimes do a cover of Soundgarden’s “Outshined” that segues into a Depeche Mode song or something. “I’m think of making my next album really new wave,” Corgan says, “like ’83-’84 new wave, not like Berlin. I spend all my time doing things that may be a bit tangential, but I think I’m going to go back to the core, the heart music. Echo and the Bunnymen.” This is standard stuff to anybody who has read even a single Billy Corgan profile, the basic curriculum of Pumpkins 101. But Thayil isn’t buying. He’s sore. “Don’t you see,” Thayil says, “you’re this incredibly talented guy. People like your music. You have a good band. You sell a lot of records. You don’t need all this…stuff.” “What sign are you?” Corgan asks. “What do you mean, what sign am I?” Thayil says. “What difference could that possibly make?” “C’mon,” wheedles Corgan, “when is your birthday?” “All right, goddamn it: September 4th.” “Aha!” Corgan says. “A Virgo. You’re argumentative.” “Damn right, I’m argumentative,” Thayil says, and takes a long, angry pull at his beer, “which you should know because I’ve been arguing with you for half an hour, not because of any sign.” “I’m a Pisces,” Corgan replies. “We pick up on those things.” A minute later, Corgan, still probing, finally finds the key to Thayil’s heart: “I hate how in magazine pictures, they always stick me somewhere in the back.” Thayil explodes: “What do you mean? You write all the songs, and you do all the interviews. You play the instruments on the album. You control the band to the extent that most people think of Smashing Pumpkins as the Billy Corgan Experience, and all you care about is some photography?” “But I hate it,” Corgan says, “it means they don’t think I’m the cute one.” “Ooh,” Thayil says a little too loudly as Corgan walks away, “I’ll bet he’s going to call his therapist in Chicago, wake her up at four in the morning, and tell her about that big, mean bear who made fun of him.” The next day at the Big Day Out festival, Thayil is talking to Kim and Kelley Deal in the Breeders’ dressing room when Corgan walks past wearing a long-sleeved Superman T-shirt like the one your four-year-old nephew probably owns. “You hurt me deeply,” Corgan says, touching the giant S on his chest and pouting. “You hurt me deeply in my heart.” The Pumpkins go on to play the best set anybody has ever heard them play…” In sum, Billy sucks, but the Smashing Pumpkins deliver.

I'm pretty sure I didn’t hate this album but the "Summertime Blues" cover is one of the least tolerable pieces of music I've ever heard. Like... I'm being pedantic but taking out the end of the verses to replace with instrumentals kinda detracts from the whole point of the song. It's some kind of Hendrix meets Peter & The Wolf meets Peanuts nightmare where all the grownups are replaced by instruments. You called your congressman and he said, quote, "*drum fill*"? What did Eddie Cochran do to deserve that? The rest of the record is still a bit “jammy” for my liking, but is just controlled enough that I can find some sounds that I dig. Also, anything with this much fuzz and distortion in 1968 is probably pretty influential on a lot of the stuff I am into. On a lark, I googled “Blue Cheer Iggy Pop” and was unsurprised to learn that they and the MC5 (<3) had played together in 1968. Prooooobably not going in the rotation but I don’t regret listening and am not opposed to revisiting tracks 2 - 5.

The short version: I don't like this album at all. The long version: What I’ve learned today is that I would much rather listen to music in a genre I hate that is done well than music in a genre I like that is done poorly. I went into this with pretty high hopes (the genres and the influences ticked the boxes for me AND it's a band I've never heard of) and in return received an album that goes for “deep and mysterious” and sticks the landing hard on “teenager in a Che Guevara shirt who always talks about “neoliberalism” and does his damnedest to pivot every conversation to ‘yeah I do weed now.’” Listening to this, in between bouts of wincing at the lyrics, I was transported back in time to a particularly dreadful night in college that I spent in the company of a poor misshapen soul I dubbed “The Revolutionary.” I’ll bet that guy loves this album, wherever he is now. Based on these lyrics, whoever wrote this shit (apparently his name is Sonic Boom) seems to think he’s the first person to ever conflate drugs and religion. So profound. Oh wow a song about starting a “revolution” because… he’s mad that drugs are illegal. I said surely there’s more to this. So I went to Genius and saw the following explanation, written by some neckbeard who thinks this album is in any way intelligent: "Sonic Boom is upset and disapproves of having those in power determine if specific drugs are acceptable in today’s society, leaving those who use illegal substances feeling like outsiders, and being looked down upon by others. Even in a society where drugs like alcohol is socially accepted with similar if not worse effects to other popular illegal drugs." Fuuuuuuuuuuuck off. Knowing nothing else about this group aside from what's on this record, I’m comfortable with saying I hate them irredeemably. I always try to listen to these albums at least 2-3 times (hence my disdain for the longer ones), and way more if we count the times I let them play in the background while I’m doing other stuff, but I gave this one spin and got what I needed to get out of it. When coming up with ratings, I always try to consider “what does this do better than other albums?” and the answer in this case is “irritate me.” I almost rated this as “did not listen” in a desperate and vain attempt to try and manifest a world in which I did not.

True generational talents. I hope the person who decided every hip hop album needed “comedy” skits during the 90s and 2000s is having a bad day.

I like Blur quite a bit but I’m not sure I think they ever made a true no skips album. I was literally thinking about it yesterday in terms of them never making an album worse than a 3 or better than a 4. This is me, again, saying some variation of "album too long" and also readily acknowledging that, as much as I enjoy Blur, I will readily acknowledge about 20,000 reasons to find them annoying. Blur requires a bit more active listening than their contemporaries, because their real strength is in the lyrics more than anything. Damon Albarn is pretty much head and shoulders over all the other britpop folks as a lyricist, other than Jarvis Cocker and maybe Brett Anderson. Parklife was Blur’s third album and their last as the unquestioned and unquestionable biggest British band before the Battle of Britpop circa 1995 and Damon subsequently spending the remainder of the 90s taking a series of Ls (getting into heroin, getting dumped by Justine Frischmann, getting bullied by Gallaghers) that culminated in him deciding to make music as a cartoon character instead of himself. And I tend to think that when/if his legacy is being discussed by future generations, there will be more discussion of Gorillaz than anything else. But Blur remains a stadium act in the UK so maybe that's just me not fully appreciating their popularity outside the US, where their last concert was a disastrous Coachella gig. As far as the album itself goes, we're right in the thick of Blur being as aggressively British as possible, which began on Modern Life is Rubbish and continued on The Great Escape (The so-called "Life" trilogy). As in the other Life albums, the big defining feature here is these Ray Davies-style songs about these super mundane things like bank holidays and civil servants and annoyance with US-centrism. Sonically, there's a good amount of variation here; "Girls & Boys" has some pretty gnarly disco guitar, is catchy as hell, and is also probably my favorite song in the world to listen to while running. "Bank Holiday" is a punk song that is mercifully the length of a punk song. Elsewhere, we've got waltz timed oompa-"chimney sweeping music" on "The Debt Collector" and an almost Bond-esque sound on "To the End," alongside something approaching space rock on “Far Out,” some new wave on “London Loves” and, yes, straightforward ‘90s alternative rock on "End of a Century" and "This Is a Low." That refusal to have any set-in-stone sound would later become a cornerstone for Gorillaz, but it's been part of Damon Albarn's work from very early on. It's wild to me that the title track is a thing that was released as a single; I cannot fathom the notion of hearing that song on the radio during my morning commute, even though when you think about it there's really not a better time to hear it? It's sort of the thesis statement of the album and would probably make more sense as the opening track to provide an overview to what the album is going to be about, but I also understand that would be pretty alienating to a new listener. But at the same time, watch them play it at Glastonbury 2009 and see how wild that crowd gets. The key thing here is that most of these character studies feel very "birdseye." Blur is not talking about the mundanity of modern life because *they* can feel it but because the *listener* can. "Tracy Jacks," "London Loves," "Magic America," and "Jubilee" feel voyeuristic and damn near anthropological, rather than relatable. Damon is rocking FILA tracksuits, a gold tooth, and a cockney accent. He's playing a character like the theater kid he’s always been at heart. Again, an interesting prelude of things to come. The best songs on here are the more sincere ones, that feel more intimate and less theatrical. "End of a Century," "To the End," "Clover Over Dover," and "Badhead" all show an honesty and vulnerability that wouldn't really be found elsewhere in Blur's canon until their sad boi era later in the decade. "This Is a Low" is, ironically, the high point here and is the perfect marriage of these two concepts. It's emotionally resonant and intimate, while also being inspired by, of all things, a shipping forecast. Great album. I like it more than I did this morning. “Clover Over Dover” has especially improved in my standings, a tune that never really stood out to me one way or the other but is now one of my favorites on the album. But it could use some trimming (cut: Bank Holiday and Lot 105 for sure. Maybe The Debt Collector and Far Out), and I'm not ready to give it a perfect score.

Distinct lack of thrills here, in spite of the name. Reading up on The Thrills, it seems like their inclusion here was more based on hype than anything; they showed up in the original 2005 version of the book on the back of a huge amount of success with this album and were not included in any subsequent editions. Kinda reminds me of 2012 when we all thought Gotye was the next big thing. I'm not going to call it great and I still don't like this dude's voice, but I can settle in on "okay." Basically, I wouldn't be mad at you for playing it in the car but I'm not going to put it on myself. There's just too many other places I can get a better version of the same thing.

You cannot find me a more discouraging feeling than listening to this for 25 minutes and then finding out that you’ve been on shuffle and having to start over.

A collection of great songs but not necessarily a great collection of songs, ya dig? Basically not sure I get anything from listening to all of these songs in this exact order. "Nothing Compares 2 U" is often called one of the greatest songs of all time but I'd also shout out “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” "Black Boys on Mopeds" and "Jump in the River" for mixing up the sound a bit.

I am, historically, an Eagles hater, not so much because I hate their music but because I have literally 0 respect them as artists. Overall, I find them (Don Henley in particular) to be an exercise in deep cynicism, chasing trendy sounds rather than paving any new ground. Especially ironic to me that Don Henley went on to write “The Boys of Summer” and lament seeing a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac. But that’s what this whole goddamn band is. Just a bit Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac. A shiny commercial product that insists that it’s cool and countercultural. So it’s truly insane to me how the prevailing opinion on the internet seems to be that people only hate the Eagles because of a movie line. I’m sure that’s true of someone out there but, like, the line exists for a reason, ya dig? He specifically hates the Eagles; not The Byrds or The Band or CSN(Y) or Gram Parsons. The Eagles. It certainly worked out for them; I imagine if the band was told to choose between my (and, I guess, the Coen Brothers’) personal respect and their solid gold yachts powered by burning $100 bills and bricks of cocaine, there would not be much thought. Anyway, on to the album. I think I listened to this once the whole way through previously just to say that I did it but never really took it in. I hate "Life in the Fast Lane" with like every fiber of my being, but it's the only song on the album that I actively dislike. But I dislike it a whole lot. I’ve never enjoyed it but I don’t think I understood just how intolerable I found it until spending a day listening to this album on a loop and getting to the point that I started wincing when I heard that first riff. “Life in the fast lane surely make you lose your mind” indeed. I hate Don Henley’s voice (didn’t realize it was possible for a vocal timbre to sound like Reaganomics), I hate the lyrics, I hate the chorus, I hate the tune, I hate that it exists, I think it might be my least favorite song ever. You could swap it out for any Spacemen 3 song and it’d be a lateral move at worst. The rest I'm neutral - positive on. "Try and Love Again" is a very nice song and the little "woop" during the "Hotel California" guitar solo (you know the one) is sufficient to justify the entire existence of this band. I prefer the earlier, more country-ish, stuff but this is acceptable.

I recently got into The Kinks, which puts The Who at a distant 4th place in my British Invasion power rankings. Maybe even 5th because I really like the one Zombies album I’ve heard. I'm way more a fan of this earliest incarnation of these guys than I am the rock opera enthusiast version or the recent version who spent the middle part of this year firing and rehiring Zak Starkey. Maybe that will change as we get further along the generator but, as it stands, the period of my peak Who fandom lasts for exactly 371 days between the releases of this album and their second, A Quick One. Music moved really fast in the 60s, didn't it? How the fuck is this less than 3.5 years before Tommy? The Who are just wee lads here; Keith Moon was 18 when production started but he and John Entwistle are already an all-time great rhythm section. Maybe THE greatest (many’ll throw their support to Jones/Bonham, but I’m partial myself to Mills/Berry). Title track and "The Kids Are Alright" are incredible songs. “Much Too Much” also stood out to me this time around. Interestingly, some quick research shows that the whole album was originally supposed to be R&B covers and that idea was only scrapped after the planned track list got leaked by a magazine, leading Pete Townshend to just, like, crank out a bunch of songs. Another Sliding Doors moment. If you enjoy punk rock, heavy metal, rock opera, or CSI, I guess thank the good people at Beat Instrumental. The original concept for the album lives on via 2 James Brown songs and 1 by Bo Diddley. I think overall these covers are redundant and do nothing to reframe the originals. “Please Please Please” is still excellent. “I’m a Man” kinda sucks. “I Don’t Mind” is somewhere in the middle. Based on the approximately 4 trillion bonus tracks this album has on Spotify, they probably could have swapped them out for something original and had an overall stronger debut album. but we're still in that awkward period in the mid-60s where artists putting out full albums of original songs is still somewhat novel and not the expectation. Rubber Soul didn't come out and change that until... the same day. Of the original tunes, the only one I don’t really vibe with is “It’s Not True” which was kinda giving me VeggieTales energy, as I expected ol’ Roger Daltrey to say that he’d never been to Boston in the fall. Overall, this is another one of those albums that I really appreciate but don't love. That said, the influence on later stuff that I like way more is very obvious.

I think I have to give this bonus points for sounding like this in 1974. Not something I'm putting on for pleasure but it's actually a really interesting vibe. I'm pretty sure that with the combination of the right drugs and the right high end headphones, this could maybe unlock some forbidden knowledge. Recently I took an edible that was significantly stronger than I realized and I was convinced I had figured out time travel and maybe I did actually figure out time travel, I have no way to prove or disprove it. This stirred similar feelings.

Don’t listen to as much rap these days as my younger years. Wasn’t particularly enthused about this one going in, hence my Northern Boys comparison. But I liked this quite a bit.

Talking Heads are the only band/artist/whatever whose entire discography I own. They're kinda like the Seinfeld of pop music, right down to the sick bass lines and all the subsequent rip-offs that make them feel less revolutionary to the uninformed. Furthering my war on asinine genre classifications, I want to question how this can be considered post-punk / new wave right in the middle of the first wave of punk; this album predates Never Mind the Bollocks by a month. There's some early installment weirdness in 77 in that they haven't yet adopted the funk/African sound that made them into icons. The lyrics are still the same type of thing that David Byrne would be putting out years later up to and including his most recent album, but instrumentally for all intents and purposes, this is a pretty straightforward rock album that actually makes sense as having come out of a CBGB band. "Psycho Killer" gets a ton of love obviously but my favorite on this album has always been "Don't Worry About the Government." So much of the appeal of this band is the lyrics about mundane shit, like buildings and food -- explorations they would further in their second LP, More Songs About Buildings and Food.

Allow me to be insufferable about R.E.M. for a moment. In their prime, they were one of the rarest breed of band, where each member was truly in-expendable. The band was run as a democracy, all 4 of them contributed something distinct. All songs were credited to all 4 members. All money was split 4 ways. I think with the vast majority of bands, there’s one or two central figures (usually a vocalist and/or a guitarist) who end up surrounded by a rotating cast of characters. There’s obviously exceptions to that rule (The Beatles are the obvious big one), but R.E.M. is a band with 4 members who straight up cannot be replaced. Michael Stipe is an incredible singer. Bill Berry and Mike Mills, as I said in my Who review, might be my favorite rhythm section of all time. Mills is at the very least my favorite backing vocalist of all time. Peter Buck is not a stellar guitarist but his love of rock music put the band together and we love him for it because passion > proficiency and Buck is a jangle icon. He's the working man's Johnny Marr. When Bill Berry left the band in the mid-90s (he had an on-stage brain hemorrhage and decided to retire from music to become a farmer), they didn’t even try to replace him and spent the last 15 years of their run without an official drummer. They also felt that whole time like they were going through the motions. While there’s some standout tracks, that era is basically consigned to history. I recently read a book about REM that spent 43 chapters on the 16 years that Bill Berry was in the band and 4 chapters on the 15 years after he left. Peak R.E.M. (Murmur - New Adventures in Hi-Fi; the Berry years) , is maybe the most consistently great American rock band of all time. They just flat out did not miss for 10 albums in the span of 16 years. I don't know that I've seen that replicated. All that said, this ranks pretty low in my peak R.E.M. ranking and is definitely my least favorite thing they put out in the 80s. But it has not 1 but 2 bona fide classics, so I get it. Everything else is solid, but the fact that you know exactly which 2 songs I'm talking about is proof enough that those songs are carrying. I think I could nail "It's the End of the World As We Know It" at karaoke if I was drunk enough.

“Every instrument is a drum.” -James Brown My ratings are generally based on 2 things: 1). Did I like it?; 2). Is it influential on things I do like? James Brown is in that upper echelon of influence, like shit that you need to know on day 1 of being a pretentious pop music snob. He is an inspiration to artists ranging from Iggy Pop to Michael Jackson. He’s the most sampled artist in hip hop. He basically invented funk. He’s also kind of a monster if you read about him. If I'm judging a live album, I think the most important criteria is "Would I like to have been there?" and the answer here is a resounding yes. But at the same time, so much of James Brown's appeal is visual. Watch clips of this dude performing and he's an absolute madman on a scale that has only ever successfully been replicated by Michael Jackson. So, the question is whether the performance can really be conveyed to the listener through audio and audio alone. For that, I asked Wayne Kramer from MC5. I subsequently was informed that he's been dead for like 2 years, so I found a quote from him about it: "Our whole thing was based on James Brown. We listened to "Live At the Apollo" endlessly on acid. We would listen to that in the van in the early days of 8-tracks on the way to the gigs to get us up for the gig. If you played in a band in Detroit in the days before The MC5, everybody did "Please, Please, Please" and "I Go Crazy." These were standards. We modeled The MC5's performance on those records. Everything we did was on a gut level about sweat and energy. It was anti-refinement. That's what we were consciously going for." “Anti-refinement” and “gut level” are maybe a stretch here. This band is pretty damn precise. So precise that I assume James Brown pointed a gun at at least one member of the Famous Flames daily.

There is something about Bob Dylan that appeals to a part of my psyche that no other artist has ever been able to touch. I can tell you right now with certainty that I can remember the first time I actually recognized that I was listening to a “Great Song” (as distinguished from a song that I personally enjoyed), that song was “Like a Rolling Stone.” This performance is a document of one of the very last shows of the era that most would first imagine when told to visualize Bob Dylan. If told to “do a Bob Dylan impression,” most people’s instinct is to adopt a nasally voice, use that distinctive enunciation style, accentuating weird syllables and elongating the shit out of vowels. A Bob Dylan Halloween costume probably entails sunglasses, mod suits, and frizzy hair. That period, while iconic, is also fleeting, lasting under a year. 10 days after this show, Dylan would conclude his last tour for 8 years (by playing at the ACTUAL Royal Albert Hall, no less. That concert is also available on streaming under the title “The Real Royal Albert Hall 1966 Concert). If during this concert he sounds like he’s on the edge of a complete collapse, it’s because he is, and it wasn’t getting better. I hate to quote a Reddit comment but someone there said that the difference between this show and the Real Royal Albert Hall Concert is that during the latter, “Dylan is 10 days more unhinged, 10 days closer to a break down, 10 days madder at the audience.” The next month, he released Blonde On Blonde and a month after that he was (allegedly) in a motorcycle crash that (allegedly) saved his life by making him step back from public life for a while. The show itself is a great showcase of Dylan’s contentious relationship with his audience, which is very much still on display today. The fans wanted a classic acoustic set. Dylan knew this. He gave them a 7 song acoustic set, but with the caveat that 3 of those songs hadn’t yet been released. And of the remaining 4 songs, none were from his folk era. No “Blowin In the Wind” or “The Times They Are A-Changin” or “Don’t Think Twice” or “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” to be found. The first half of this album is pretty spellbinding to me. Dylan’s vocal is at the forefront, accompanied only by his guitar and occasional bits of harmonica. Every word is clear and, while you probably don’t understand the meaning, it’s hard not to believe that the man himself does. The meaning, the feeling, is contained in the voice, not just the written words. The versions of “Visions of Johanna” and “Desolation Row” on this album are probably my favorite recordings of those songs. During that first half, Dylan is also at his most Dylan, sounding at times like the exact type of impression that I just described and playing harmonica parts that can best be described as “picking a note and holding it until ready to move on.” So, in short, the most Dylan form of Dylan is angry at the audience and on the verge of a total mental collapse. The second half is where this thing really comes alive, as Dylan is joined by his live band (who would later become The Band, though Levon Helm had bowed out of the tour by now) on a mission to play as (fuckin’) loudly and aggressively as possible. There’s something so primal about listening to Dylan shouting at the top of his lungs backed by a wall of sound so distorted that it’s damn near impossible to pick out the individual instruments. This is such a contrast to the perfection of James Brown’s band from yesterday. I don’t know if it’s the microphone placement or what, but I don’t know if even Keith Moon ever hit drums this hard. This is probably not a pleasure listen if you’re an audiophile or otherwise not a big Dylan fan, but for me it hits like nothing else.

The word “butthole” is appropriate for the group that produced this poop.

This is the first album we’ve gotten where I was there in the moment of the pre-release anticipation and I can tell you without any question exactly where I was when I first listened. I don’t have unique insight into this album, I can only speak on how it made me feel. Like quite a few people my age and socioeconomic background, I first became aware of Kendrick Lamar through his Interlude on Drake’s Take Care album (lolllllllll). I liked him there but I was caught off guard by the rapturous response to good kid, m.A.A.d city the following year, especially when it ended up beating out channel ORANGE for Pitchfork’s AOTY. I was ~that kind~ of teenager so that’s the point where I decided to look into Kendrick a bit deeper and came to accept that Pitchfork had gotten it right this time. Still, Kendrick was a hot new thing but his staying power was uncertain. That changed when I was going into college and his verse on “Control” was unleashed upon the world. This was a guy with something to prove and he definitely wasn’t going anywhere; but what would be his next move? Flash forward to March 15, 2015. It’s like 5am. I can’t sleep. I move from the bed in my dorm to the couch in the sitting area. I pull out my phone and see that the album has been uploaded to Spotify, like 8 days ahead of its announced release date. So I sit there on my own in the dark and listen. No one to talk to, no text interruptions, just me and this album. 78 minutes flew by as the sun began to light my room and I was enraptured. I’d already heard the then-current single, “The Blacker the Berry,” but in context as part of a greater tapestry, it became impactful all over again. I’d heard the single version of “i” so was wholly unprepared for the album version of the track and its ending. That right there was brilliant to me: taking the “fun” single and totally reworking it to work in the album’s narrative. What i remember most of all is the album’s closing moments. As “Mortal Man” closed and I heard ~that voice~ it became apparent to me that this had a very real chance of being the album and artist of my lifetime. And then it lost the Grammy to Macklemore.

Real “green eggs and ham” moment for me, this. Never liked steely Dan, still don’t but there’s some vibes here.

Inoffensive but too long. There’s also the slight wrinkle of there being a non-zero chance that I didn’t actually listen to the whole album because it all just kinda sounds the same. I think I said previously I would like Massive Attack and Portishead better without the singing and the same is true here. But this sounds a little more like the music from Silent Hill games and I like Silent Hill games. Massive Attack got a 2 so I guess this gets a 2 as well. Easy Enough.

I enjoyed pretty much every second of this album but there were way too many seconds of this album.

perfect.

I expected to give this a higher score actually. I have this CD somewhere. I’m not an Eminem hater, which I expect several in our listening group are, but my fandom is mostly in the past tense. I think he’s quite talented in spite of his more obnoxious qualities, and honestly I project that onto his fanbase more than him. I think you can listen to pre-2009 Eminem without reaching for the Mountain Dew and Xbox controllers, but that’s just me. He goes through these phases of going in and out of style. He’s like the McRib of music. I’d say I’ve outgrown the horrorcore elements but I also don’t find them particularly offensive or whatever. Just kinda try-hardish. Like, overall, as a person, it seems like he’s only ever really hurt himself; I’d rather him say fucked up shit than do fucked up shit. Maybe a hot take but I can pretty much find a 1:1 comparison in a B.I.G. song for every “shocking” moment here other than the celebrity name drops so I don’t quite know why Eminem is held up as being uniquely offensive. “Kim” is a bit much but it’s supposed to be. I don’t think even at the time he was treating it as anything other than some primal scream therapy. I don’t like it but it accomplishes what it is supposed to accomplish and if you listen to it in the context of being a prequel to 97 Bonnie & Clyde (as intended), it’s an interesting juxtaposition and actually pretty effective. On the censored version that my brother bought from Walmart back in 2001 or whatever, they replaced it with a South Park themed song about drugs that’s pretty fun. Anyway, the good stuff here is very good but like probably north of half of this album sucks. I will say without qualification there’s some excellent songs on this album (the singles, Bitch Please II), and there’s some other pretty good stuff (Kill You, Criminal), but we’ve also got the aforementioned Kim, three stupid edgelord skits, two songs with D12 members who are not especially good at this, and some other very forgettable stuff. And the album is like 75 minutes long and I’ve made my stance on that very clear.

I think at some point when I've got a day to kill, I need to sit down and listen to this again, along with all the other trip hop stuff we've had, because in a blind taste test, I cannot tell the difference between this album, the Massive Attack album we already got (which, fair), and the Red Snapper album we already got. Nor can I tell the difference between any individual track on any of these three albums. I know Portishead is coming and I won't be able to tell the difference there either. God help me.

Put more artfully than I ever could, please consider this short piece by Liz Phair, published in Rolling Stone: https://www.lizphair.net/press/2005/elvis-costello/ Getting into Elvis Costello was a long-time item on my to-do list that I worked toward in 2025. I think he's a hell of a lyricist with a pretty unique voice and a sound where he can slide in neatly to playlists with a pretty wide variety of artists. Like, he exists in this intersection of new wave and folk and there's not a lot of people occupying that lane. I don't have a super whole lot to say about this album other than "I like it a lot" and "it sounds like an Elvis Costello album." I need to sit with it longer and revisit.

Me listening to Suedehead: 😃 Me listening to Every Day Is Like Sunday: 😍🥰🤗 Me listening to Bengali In Platforms: 😬(it somehow seems that the majority of the internet reads this song as sympathetic toward immigrants but I read it as more condescending than anything... not necessarily PRO or ANTI anything. But Morrissey's politics are... very complicated.) I’ve turned Morrissey’s overrepresentation on the 1001 albums list into a running gag but I truly adore this album and cannot fault its inclusion. I truly believe peak Morrissey to be one of the best lyricists in rock music and that's much more on display here than the last time he turned up. Viva Hate, Viva Moz.

Historically my favorite work of theirs, with Dead Flowers and Wild Horses in particular standing out as my absolute go-to Rolling Stones songs. But I also think You Gotta Move is incredibly unpleasant. That classic blues sound is deeply unappealing to me. I’ll let it slide because the rest is so good but I don’t want this rating to be perceived as endorsement of that wretched song.

More of a Starship fella myself; name me a better song than “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now”; you fuckin can’t. I found this forgettable. I fear the 2 songs on here that I already knew will continue to be the only 2 songs I know.

When you see REM albums ranked, the top spot is essentially always Murmur or Automatic for the People; I prefer Murmur by a pretty wide margin but it’s actually my second favorite REM record; I prefer Reckoning, which is so slept on by everyone who isn't me. If you like Murmur, I strongly encourage you to listen to Reckoning. Also if you hate Murmur, I encourage you to listen to Reckoning. You'll probably still hate it but you'll be wrong. Anyway, while this is not my very favorite REM album, it is still so deeply impactful to me and very comfortably in my favorite albums of all time catalog. Radio Free Europe marks the exact moment that college rock transitioned into “alternative rock.” It’s also catchy as fuck, along with every other song on here. Michael Stipe is often accused of being mumbly on the old stuff (Oh look, they called the album Murmur) but I think he's usually fairly clear and enunciative but buried in the mix. The fact that they refused to include lyric sheets in the albums furthered this reputation of “what the fuck is he even saying? When you do hone in on the lyrics, they are cryptic, with Stipe wearing his Patti Smith influence proudly. Tying that to a more personal note, I don’t know what “standing too soon, shoulders high in the room” means but it makes me cry every time I hear it. When I hear “Perfect Circle,” I feel like I’m in that hazy space of late summer, early fall. The end of summer vacation, as it were. And I can basically see the face of everyone I’ve ever cared about. The best friends I text every day and the best friends to whom I haven’t spoken since 8th grade alike. Deceased family. And the thing about it is I know the words don’t really have that literal meaning. There’s no real reason that song should conjure those, or any, specific images in my mind. It’s just acoustics that my brain translates into feelings. There’s a lot of songs that I associate with particular people and memories but not another one I can think of that makes me feel like my life is flashing before my eyes. Any piece of music that can elicit that level of vivid emotion in me, I cherish but I also keep at a distance. I don’t just throw it on a playlist for the hell of it, lest overexposure rob it of its power. So, Jesus Christ any time I do hear it, I’m a fucking wreck.

I did not care for this because I do not care about this. Never listened to much Jeff Beck, I just know he’s one of those “omg what a good guitarist” types and that’s not a thing that ever interested me at all. I dunno dude, I just need more of a selling point than virtuoso musicianship; as I am typing this, there’s some kid in a bedroom in, like, Omaha who can play as technically well as anybody on any “greatest guitarists” list but I’m not listening to that kid’s album. Blues music in general does not do very much for me at all, to the point that it does not even get my usual “yeah but look at what it influenced!” bump. When those elements give way to others, I pay more attention. There’s some good stuff here but it mostly all gets lost in mucky repetition. I think I’m talking myself into lowering my score. There’s novelty in young Rod Stewart on vocals and the fact that this is kind of a dry run for Led Zeppelin if you squint your eyes in the right way.

I don’t hate anything here and several individual tracks here that I really like quite a bit (“Enjoy the Silence” is just a sublime pop song) but not to the point where the whole album feels like something I need to put on. Depeche Mode is very much in my wheelhouse but I struggle to get into them. I don’t really know what it is that holds me back from that but it’s something. I don’t vibe with their dancier stuff the way I do with New Order or Happy Mondays and I don’t vibe with their moodier stuff the way I do with Joy Division or The Smiths. There’s definitely some attempts at Cure-esque soundscapes but they just don’t stick the landing for me in the same way. It’s got all the pieces to be something I love but it’s like that last switch ain’t flipped. I do remember being like 13-14 and keeping the radio in GTA San Andreas on Radio X and getting annoyed when “Personal Jesus” came on, along with “Movin’ on Up” by Primal Scream and “Been Caught Stealing” by Jane’s Addiction and those are now the only 3 songs from that station that I seek out. Funny how we change.

I always viewed the Byrds as being more a cover band than anything, so I was actually surprised to find that all but one song on here were originals. The one cover, "My Back Pages," has some of my favorite Dylan lyrics "I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now" is something to which I relate more and more. I liked the part in CTA-102 where it got all fucked up and sounded like they accidentally let David Lynch wander into the production booth.

Byrne and Eno were all over each other in this era. According to legend, they pushed for Remain In Light to be billed as “Talking Heads and Brian Eno” but the non-Byrne members of the group reverse psychologied them out of it by pointing out that Eno would have to tour in support of the album if his name was on it, which was a thing he didn’t want to do. That has nothing to do with this album but it’s amusing. I just kinda am not knowledgeable enough about production to comment on anything musically here other than to say “very bold use of sampling.” Another amusing anecdote that has nothing to with this album: “He’s a genuine eccentric,” Eno said of Byrne. “He’s always been exactly like that, and I’ve seen him remain like that in quite extreme situations.” Eno continued: “For instance, we were mugged together once in New York. It was quite frightening; we were mugged by 14 people. My enduring memory is of David being dragged off into the bushes, saying, ‘Uh-oh!’ That’s absolutely true; it was like a cartoon scene.” I doubt that happened but it’s pretty funny.

Really not a Christmas music guy and I kinda want to punch anyone who is; I do not understand the interaction I have every November with people who say “I’m so excited to ‘get to’ listen to Christmas music” as if there is some force field that prevents you from listening to Nat King Cole in March. I also have strong opinions on the concept of “breakfast foods” BUT, what I do enjoy is ~good~ music and that features in abundance on this album. Phil Spector’s wall of sound production was so far ahead of the curve it isn’t even funny and I credit him with being among the first to understand that a recording could itself ~be~ a work of art, rather than just a document of a work of art. He’s also like history’s greatest monster so yeah (like every single story about this dude will invariably involve a gun being pointed at someone and, in one tragic case, fired) So, in short, I find it hard to envision Phil Spector giving anyone a Christmas gift that did not involve threats or violence, but I will take it. I love the vintage girl group sound of the Ronettes and the Crystals, particularly the former, who I praise probably 8 times a day to anyone who will listen. The version of “Sleigh Ride” on this album is the objective best Christmas song. Aside from that, Darlene Love is the star here and we probably could/should have stopped making new Christmas songs after “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home),” though I would consider issuing a single waiver for Mariah Carey.

Back in the olden days, when I obtained all my music via YouTube ——> MP3 conversion, I had this album on my iPod. Because I had downloaded all the individual tracks from YouTube, the transitions between the songs were not correct and were rather jarring. I spent many many many precious irreplaceable minutes of my life tinkering in iTunes, trying to get the tracks to start / stop at the exact right moment to be seamless, like the true album experience. It took forever. On this listen, I still caught myself wincing when I knew the songs were about to end, expecting a split second pause in the middle of the transition. That’s lasting psychological damage. And then when I did get it absolutely perfect, I got this album which is just kinda meh to me for the first 50%. I really like Sam Cooke quite a bit and think he’s probably a top 10 vocalist; I was trying to download this album for a reason, but it does not get all the way there for me. I have no doubt that the show would have been a great time and the electricity from Cooke and the crowd are undeniable, but pretty much every song in the first half sounds the same to me, before we slow down in the second half and everything has more character. I love that saxophone on Somebody Have Mercy. The saxophone, famously, is the sexiest instrument. So, mixed bag, but rounding up to a 3.

I’m pretty sure I like Elliott Smith quite a bit but I don’t revisit him very often because actually my goal is to be LESS depressed. This is a 3 that wants badly to be a 4 but it just takes too much out of me.

I think the best days of doing this are the ones where I have 0 expectations and then get wowed. They're so rare. But something about this album on this day just clicked. I kinda sighed when I saw the cover art because the damn generator has burned me so many times before but I can’t even be flippant because I am actually genuinely astonished by how much I enjoyed this on a first listen. From the moment those first strings hit I was buying what this fella was selling. I’m pretty sure I’ve read Richard Hawley’s name a time or 2 in my Britpop travels, but I was not at all familiar with his game. Love his voice, love these Burt Bacharach-esque arrangements. But with like, just a hint of Roy Orbison or Elvis (Presley or Costello for that matter). Someone in that vein. So many of these songs have that "I wonder who wrote that" pop standard feel to them and I'd swear they were out of the Great American Songbook or something, yet all but one is original. Pretty high key obsessed with this sound and will seek out additional work. Absolutely my favorite "only-listened-to-it-because-this-website-told-me-to" album so far. I’m telling y’all, if I get 10 duds in a row followed by something new that I love, the whole thing is worthwhile.

Still in my wheelhouse! Gang of Four is a classic Brandon band. Ahead of its time. Very reminiscent of Fugazi's debut album, which came out like 11 years later. I hope Ian MacKaye sent Andy Gill a lovely fruit basket. Also some Devo in there. Fun! And it’s nice to listen to music by a band that clearly likes The Clash even more than I do. I need to give this another listen on a day that I have more energy and more attention to give; I slept like a cumulative 3 hours across all of last night because my cat is a monster and also I was just generally vibing more with yesterday’s album. Happy new year!

So. When we got My Generation a while back I said I preferred that version of The Who. And then I said “is that true?” and I threw this on. And watched some live videos from the era. And I gotta say I was very incorrect and was won over. Which makes sense because I love big dumb arena rock. If you don’t love the scream on Won’t Get Fooled Again, you’ve probably never experienced joy. The concept behind the album is also wacky af and I appreciate that as well. Rockstars back then came up with insane ideas when they did lots of drugs and now they just post racist shit on Twitter. We used to be a proper society. So then I went to Pops to buy the album and it was like $44 and I said haha no. As there exist other albums for which I would have (and already have) paid $44, I think that means this isn’t a 5 star album. And it also means I think I have to go back and 5 star Parklife because I think that’s roughly what I paid for it.

Very proto-Adele in that this is a very talented singer making music about which I could not be arsed to care in the slightest. “Son of a Preacher Man” came later, of course, but I don’t feel anything from the performances on this particular album. It just feels like a very good singer who was given a list of songs to sing, hit some notes, and then went home. I could hear the same thing at a karaoke bar. 2 stars for being pleasant enough.

An album that I once loved but am now unable to enjoy because of my own inability to let go of a grudge. You see, on a spring evening in early 2017, I was discussing this album while walking downtown. As a non-chalant goofy aside, I said “and Q-Tip is such a great rap name.” Suddenly, this woman emerged from the shadows, a smirk on her face as she relished in saying, “Hate to break it to you, but that’s already a rapper’s name” and then she breathed cigarette smoke in my face I’m not joking this is a real thing that happened. I said “that’s literally what I just said” in a tone that was pretty overtly hostile than was warranted in that situation, but I was pretty pissed off and just kept rattling off Tribe references I’m not joking this is a real thing that happened. Indeed, I am still exactly as pissed off as I was in that moment. Now, 9 years later, I fear that my enjoyment of this album has been permanently sullied by this fucking moron who went out of her way to interrupt the conversation of a complete stranger in order to be condescending. She’s forgotten me and yet I bring her up quite often. I hope she’s having a bad day. Anyway, I am incapable of listening to Tribe without getting irritated and flashing back to that interaction. I’m giving it 5 stars because I used to love this album a lot but now it has bad associations.

I become more of a Taylor Swift hater by the day but it’s got little to do with her music and more to do with the fact that she seeks to consume the world in a monoculture à la the orange goo from End of Evangelion. 1989 is, however, truly one of the great pop albums of the 21st century.

I like the idea of Krautrock but I pretty much only explore it via approximations by other artists I like more. Like, I want to tell people I like Neu! and Can and Faust and Tangerine Dream and Kraftwerk but instead I just listen to David Bowie doing his imitation of them on Low and Heroes and Lodger and feel oh so very cultured. My favorite parts of this album are various scattered individual instrumental parts rather than full songs but I did really like "Giggy Smile" and "It's a Bit of a Pain."

A bit heavy on the “hey look how wacky I am” for my taste

An 80s REM album that sounds like a 90s REM album. Important as a major label debut, directly traceable to the subsequent alternative rock boom. Some great stuff like “Stand” and “Orange Crush.” I’ll go to bat for both those songs, they’re goddang perfect. But also a lotta forgettable stuff. I really try hard when doing my reviews not to ask “why is this here?” since the answer is “because it is.” I also try not to ask “why is this other thing not here?” since the answer is “because it’s not.” But at the same time, I feel like I can make an exception here in the same way I did with my Meat is Murder review and just say something along the lines of “REM deserves spots on this list but they have albums more deserving than those chosen.” They really put the 2 worst golden age REM albums on here tbh, I got lots of love for all of it but it’s hard not to question why Green and Document are here over Out of Time or literally any of the other 80s albums. Fables of the Reconstruction, maybe? That one’s got “Life and How to Live It” and “Driver 8.” Reckoning? That’s a crackerjack banger of an album and “So. Central Rain” is the best song they ever wrote. Lifes Rich Pageant? “Fall on Me” babe I’d say I like this a little more than Document and way less than the rest of their 80s output. And about as much as their 90s stuff, though Automatic for the People will get a 4 or 5 from me depending on my mood that day.

I don't watch Doctor Who, but am aware that the word "Tardis" gained popularity to the point that it was added to the Oxford English Dictionary, defined as follows: "In similative use, esp. as the type of something with a larger capacity than its outward appearance suggests, or with more to it than appears at first glance. Cf. Tardis-like adj." The songs on this album are Tardis-like in the sense that Spotify says that they are 3-ish minutes long and yet they last for 9-and-a-half hours each and go absolutely nowhere. I expected to really like this album and then it was blah af. Another great singer making thoroughly uninteresting music. All sizzle, no steak as it were. On re-listen, I didn’t let tracks play the whole way through because there's like no sonic variance and this production couldn’t sound more early 2000s if it had a Ja Rule feature. Again, wonderful singer, but this whole album sounds like she's doing vocal exercises over one of those default backing tracks on a Fisher Price keyboard.

Please don't send me to listening group jail but I am very much not at all fond of the whole 2000s/10s twee and quaint wide-brim-hat-core indie folk thing. Unfortunately, Spotify seems to think it aligns with my general taste, so it routinely throws it into my playlists. The upside is that I have developed Spider-Man-like reflexes over the years in order to hit the Skip button as quickly as possible when I hear " I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOOLLLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOOOLLLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOOOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOOOLLLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOOLLLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWWWING THE I WAS FOLLOOOOWING THE I WAS FOOOOLLLLOWING THE I WAS FOOOLLLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE IWASFOLLOWINGTHEIWASFOLLOWINGTHEIWASFOLLOWINGTHEIIWASFOLLOWINGTHEIWASFOLLOWINGTHEIWASFOLLOWINGTHEIIWASFOLLOWINGTHEIWASFOLLOWINGTHEIWASFOLLOWINGTHEI WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING FOLLOWING FOLL I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE I WAS FOLLOWING THE" I hate that song.

I enjoyed this quite a bit on my first listen and then slightly less on my second but it’s still very good and the occasional abrupt genre shifts were enough to keep me excited.

I discovered Sonic Youth at the ripe young age of 10, via the Simpsons episode "Homerpalooza" in which Homer goes on the road getting shot in the stomach with cannonballs for a Lollapalooza parody called "Hullabalooza." This is also how I learned that Lollapalooza used to be a tour and not confined to Chicago. Anyway, Sonic Youth is in the episode and they raid Peter Frampton's cooler and eat his watermelon, which led to an image I've seen on a lot of t-shirts in my life. Sometimes when I'm flustered and ranting about the misfortunes in my life, I throw in the line "and Sonic Youth's in my cooler!" to add a bit of levity. They also do the theme song in the episode's closing credits, which is a thing that used to constantly get uploaded to YouTube and even LimeWire attributed to pretty much every noisy rock band you can think of (I definitely remember seeing it uploaded as being by the White Stripes at one point). Over the ensuing 20 years (😳), Sonic Youth has become a band that I: 1). Really enjoy quite a bit; and 2). Almost never listen to. As a neat bit of synchronicity, they beat the Pixies by a few years on the combining pure fuzzy noise and pop sensibilities and also on having a female bassist/co-vocalist named Kim. In regard to this album, I'm pretty sure it's what Spacemen 3 thought they were making. Today's listen led to my embarking on an attempt to solve the mystery of why the song I have always known as “Expressway to Yr Skull” is titled “Madonna, Sean, & Me” on streaming. Wikipedia lists the track title as "Expressway to Yr Skull" but states that it is listed as "Madonna, Sean, & Me" on the back cover of the album and, on the lyric sheet, it is called "The Crucifixion of Sean Penn." So now I am left with the opposite issue of how the song's title changed to the more commonly known one. I reviewed no fewer than 3 Reddit threads on the topic and quite literally none of them gave me more information beyond "it was called that and now it's called this" and "they like Madonna." I saw a copy of Kim Gordon's book out in the wild the other day, maybe it holds the answers.

I've done a bunch of different drafts of this review because I can't figure out what tone I want to go with. So, I think I said in one of my past reviews, I don't remember which one and you can go look for it if so inclined, I don't really like traditional blues at all. Eric Clapton, who manages to be audacious enough to be both a very traditional blues guitarist and a high key racist, usually misses me. I have immense respect for the musicianship but can’t remember the last time I sought out anything by him (future Brandon’s note, I apparently listened to Disraeli Gears like 2 months ago lol) Of course, I’ve always liked both of the songs I already knew from this album but it never really occurred to me to check out the whole thing, given my arms length approach to Clapton. Maybe it’s the Duane Allman of it all but this album kinda blew me away for the most part. I’m going to give it my general “album too long” gripe, but please know I found this super enjoyable and it’s the first time in a very long time I’ve listened to a new (to me) classic rock album and been so totally floored. “I wrote a song about being in love with my best friend’s wife and then married my best friend’s wife and my best friend was such a chill bro he was the best man at the wedding and now that song is primarily associated with a montage of dead gangsters / 5”

A highly agonizing rating to determine. I came up with a pretty detailed theory some time ago that Prince is the ultimate pop musician. Like, if you graph out his stats, I think he's just the best to ever do it. Great vocals, songwriting, performing, musicianship, iconic aura and imagery. I submit that he's the only person to ever stat-max in this way. There’s a couple skips on this album for me, which isn’t normally enough to keep me from 5’ing, but when there’s only 9 tracks I feel like I can’t in good conscience.

I really have a lot of respect for this type of sample-collage based music but my appreciation cannot be fully realized unless I take the time to sit down and listen to every single piece of music that is being sampled. I do not have time to do that for this one, so I’ll just assume it’s impressive and move on about my day. “People Hold On” is so so so so good though. Shit knocked my proverbial socks off.

I just really love “Freak on a Leash”

I had initially typed up a fairly lukewarm review but then I tracked down some video of this show and I get it now. I’m not especially familiar with most of the material but I liked most of it. I do think it sounds fairly 1:1 with the studio tracks which is generally detrimental to a live album but whatever. Review of the list tells me this is the only Cheap Trick offering here, so I'm going to take a moment to talk about "Surrender," which is truly one of the most immaculate pop songs to ever exist and is enough to convince me that there's some divine entity who can pick people up like a pen to create magic.

Elephant is very much a foundational text to my development as an enjoyer of music and the White Stripes are perhaps the first band that I "discovered" on my own with absolutely no exposure from my parents or older siblings. That “Fell In Love With a Girl” video on MTV2. Brilliant. I remember being struck by the presentation of this band. “Minimalism” (though I didn’t know that word at the time). Just 2 people, 2 instruments, and everything red, black, or white. The White Stripes led the charge in the last wave of American bands who tried to keep rock music relevant and, unfortunately, the radio stations decided to go in a different (worse) direction via embracing nu metal and the rest is history. I think Jack White's talent as a guitarist will be discussed by others, so I will focus on Meg White's drumming. This woman catches so many strays from people who talk shit about her skills as a musician and all of them conveniently ignore that all of Jack White's best music was written with her style specifically in mind. It's the same conversation I have about Ringo-- do you think this album would be better with Neil Peart drumming? I most assuredly do not. I always joke about how I prefer musicians who don't know how to play their instruments but what I actually mean is that I prefer simplicity over unnecessary complexity. As a rather self indulgent illustration, a great scene in Casino Royale where James Bond is chasing this dude and the dude is doing all this crazy parkour shit and Bond is just brute forcing his way like the Terminator. They go in this construction site and the dude does this jump swing thing through a little window and Bond just runs through the fucking wall. That always stuck with me; you can be flashy or you can be efficient, either way you're getting to the same destination. So, in sum, if you think Meg White is a "bad drummer" because she can't play the solo on "Moby Dick" or whatever, kindly fuck off. Also, her vocal on "In the Cold, Cold Night" is gorgeous. "Seven Nation Army" doesn't really do much for me anymore since it got turned into a 21st century Jock Jam but it's popular for a reason. I love the spiky punk-ness of "Black Math" and "Girl, You Have No Faith in Medicine," the latter of which taught my impressionable young self the word "acetaminophen" which would later become really near and dear to me as a chronic headache sufferer. Also, "I Just Don't Know What to Do with Myself" introduced me to Burt Bacharach and that's my fucking dude. I love this album. I love The White Stripes. In an interview with Q Magazine in 2007, Jack said, "If you study the picture carefully, Meg and I are elephant ears in a head-on elephant. But it's a side view of an elephant, too, with the tusks leading off either side." He went on to say, "I wanted people to be staring at this album cover and then maybe two years later, having stared at it for the 500th time, to say, 'Hey, it's an elephant!'" Here I am almost 2 decades later to say, there's no goddamn elephant in this image, this man is a troll.

Always ends up near the top when people rank Neil Young but it’s just kinda there for me. Still Neil Young so still better than most things.

Accidentally had Repeat turned on so it cycled through about 1.5x times. I wasn’t bothered by this, so that’s good. But I also didn’t notice that I’d literally just listened to it so that’s less good.

I really like this. That melancholic steel guitar country sound is so pure and nostalgic for me.

RIP Shock G. Starts off really strong (the delight in this man’s voice when he says “yeah I called ya fat, look at me I’m skinny” makes me laugh 100% of the time) and then just kind of keeps going. One of my favorite things to do is try to spot things that influenced an artist and, in turn, things they have themselves influenced. The intro to Gutfest '89 very helpfully did this for me by listing a bunch of artists with whom Digital Underground have chosen to associate with themselves at this fictional event. The Who, The Clash, Miles Davis, Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock. Gives us a good idea of where Digital Underground see themselves.

I am actually going to be somewhat briefer than I planned but first: Fanboy review: I LOVE BLONDIE SO MUCH YOU FOR REAL DONT EVEN KNOW AND I CANNOT CONVEY IT I GOT TO SEE BLONDIE IN 2023 AND IT WAS ONE OF THE GREATEST MOMENTS OF MY LIFE AND I LITERALLY CRIED ACTUAL TEARS OF HAPPINESS THEN I ENDED UP GETTING COVID AND IT WAS ALL WORTH IT DEBBIE HARRY IS SUCH A BADASS I LOVE THIS ALBUM I LOVE BLONDIE BUT LIKE ACTUALLY THIS IS NOT THEIR BEST ALBUM AND ANY ONE OF THEIR 70S ALBUMS WOULD GET 5 STARS FROM ME, Rational me review: So. Blondie. As comes up constantly in my reviews, some of the first music that really permeated my consciousness was what came out of CBGB in the late 70s. Blondie were basically the awkward stepchild of that scene: too pop to be punk and too punk to be pop. But with these simplistic and catchy tunes, there’s not a lot that separates them from the Ramones (during Blondie’s hiatus, Clem Burke did go on to… attempt to drum for the Ramones under the moniker “Elvis Ramone” and it went disastrously). Debbie Harry (note, while I am not pretentious enough to call people out for putting "The" in front of Talking Heads, I WILL correct you if you refer to Debbie Harry as Blondie or if you talk about Blondie as a person rather than a band and I WILL be a dick about it) is such a towering icon of early punk music. Singing with such a pronounced New Jersey accent was a play (“I’m in the phone booth, it’s the one across te haawwwll”) and embracing sex appeal and femininity caused the artsier elements of the scene (I am talking about Patti Smith, specifically; a real Betty and Veronica duality) to look down their noses at her, which in retrospect feels like some pretty heavy handed movie irony. Being ostracized from the “be yourself” crew for being yourself. Like I’m just saying if you asked me to edit that screenplay I’d call it too on the nose. Anyway, Debbie Harry was in Videodrome, which is more than I can say for anyone else who played at CBGB, so. This is the third Blondie album and I actually prefer the first, second, and fourth Blondie albums but I love all the early albums a lot. Early Blondie understood better than almost any group that sometimes all you need is a catchy melody and a decent hook. Case in point, there’s no fewer than 5 perfect pop songs here and Blondie refuses to be confined by genre, unlike every other first wave punk group not called Talking Heads.

It’s one thing to do an unplugged album. It’s another to intentionally not play “the hits” in your unplugged set. It’s another STILL to do a bunch of Meat Puppets covers on your hitless unplugged album. But to do a hitless unplugged Meat-Puppets-cover-saturated album and it be the best goddamn live album ever recorded is a testament to a greatness that is the domain of very few.

One thing you have to understand about me is I very much bring my preconceived opinions and biases into my reviews. Like, oftentimes, I’ve decided if I’m gonna like it or not before I’ve even started listening. BUT, and this is key, my mind is very easily changed. Indeed, oftentimes, my final score ends up inflated or deflated just because I’m taken off guard that I enjoyed something way more or less than expected (my 5 star review of Richard Hawley and 1 star review of Amy Winehouse, respectively). Here, we have the Sisters of Mercy, who I’ve never dug into but who routinely show up in playlists with groups to which I do listen a lot (Jesus and Mary Chain, The Cure, Joy Division, New Order, The Smiths, etc.). Spotify has been telling me for literal years that I would love this album. So I was like “cool, probably a 4 star album.” And then I hit Play. The first 3 songs made me deeply unhappy. Boring, repetitive, overly long. We turned things around with “1959,” which I found to be mildly lovely and is, I think, going to be the only thing that pulls this review out of the gutter. But the we steered right fucking straight back into the gutter with “This Corrosion,” and I am genuinely upset that I already used “boring, repetitive, overly long” above because I am the type of anal where I can’t use the same phrase twice. Dude, I hate this song. It’s still going. I brushed my teeth. The song was playing before. The song was playing after. Time is a flat circle. I have always been the caretaker. Hey now. Hey now now. Sing this corrosion to me. Here’s a fun fact, I thought the Sisters of Mercy had something to do with Nick Cave and I guess they don’t? Maybe I was thinking of “The Mercy Seat,” a song that is better than anything on this album.

Gram Parsons is such a towering figure, man. If you’re into Americana music, he’s in that rarified air with the likes of John Prine as far as influence goes. Musically, aesthetically, what have you. He looked cool as shit and made awesome music. One of the all time great American songwriters and he’d be a major mainstream icon if he’d lived. This version of “Love Hurts” is so much better than the Nazareth version. Actually feels painful and not sappy. God I love Gram Parsons. The contributions of Emmylou Harris to this album must not be minimized; originally, the album was intended to be credited to both Parsons and Harris but, after Parsons’s death, his widow removed Harris’s name and face from the front cover. I learned this via a 2019 trip to the country music hall of fame in Nashville, which then featured an Emmylou Harris exhibit that featured Gram Parsons maybe a bit more than it should have, but I just love them both so much.

I enjoyed this way more than I expected to. Tragically, it is 78 minutes long and I cannot abide such things. 2.5, rounding up.

Doing all my reviews on my phone this week instead of my computer so forgive the brevity but I’m very firm in the opinion that this is Kendrick’s magnum opus.

Rubber Soul is a dividing line to Beatles fans in that the world is divided between those who call this the last Beatles album before they became great and the first Beatles album after they became great; I am solidly in the former camp. Norwegian Wood, Nowhere Man, and In My Life are all incredible. Think For Yourself and The Word are crap. Probably a 3.5 rounding to 4

I have a pretty long history with this album but I kind of forget about it sometimes. It gets almost as much love as Red Headed Stranger but never hit for me the same way. It’s really the prototype for Dylan’s Sinatra trilogy in the 2010s, a series of albums famously beloved by exactly one person (me). When this album is slowed down, it’s a beautiful melancholic vibe. Makes me want to sit in a smoky black and white room and ruminate on all the mistakes I’ve made in my life, including but not limited to listening to that spacemen 3 album. When the album gets more upbeat, it loses me. The highs are high, the lows are low, sounds like a 3.

Having track 1 of your first post split album be as good as “Mother and Child Reunion” is the musical equivalent of “I drink your milkshake.” Somewhere between a 3-4.

“Oh, that’s where that sample came from.” - me, about 91 times during this album. Very cool to see the Temptations in a socially conscious milieu post Sly Stone/James Brown/Parliament-Funkadelic.

I’ve been meaning to listen to this forever and now I did and I kinda forgot most of it. I liked Splash One. Very good album art.

This came up and I was fully prepared to just copy/paste my Faust review where I mention Neu! by name as a thing that I like the idea of liking, but then it turns out actually I thought this was super great. I even did that thing where I accidentally had it on shuffle (see also, my Pentangle review) and then I wasn't even upset that I had to start ever. Shit bangs.

Answers the age old question: "what if instead of making the best pop music in history while suffering a mental collapse, Brian Wilson had instead caterwauled tunelessly until my teeth hurt?"

Top notch live album.

Rating this for the 3rd time now, I’ve rated it, lowered it, and then went even higher than the initial rating, so I think my initial thoughts about it not being memorable were maybe incorrect.

Corny at times but fun. The beats carry and I love any time I get a De La Soul feature anywhere.

I go back and forth on Jane’s Addiction so often that it’s kind of funny, but today I’m more uniquely pro than I’ve ever been before. I do think their lasting importance is dramatically underrated in modern times. I don’t think anyone who isn’t a nerd talks about them in the same way as Pixies or Sonic Youth, for example. The fact that Perry Farrell created and maintains ownership of Lollapalooza should by itself put them on more people’s radar. That doesn’t necessarily make them enjoyable to listen to unless you’re in the right mood, which I guess I am today.

Doesn't do anything for me.

Levon is my favorite Elton John song, is that a spicy take???

This kind of got me in a Stockholm Syndrome kinda thing. I started it like 4 times and got bored and then finally I said "okay we're doing this" and it was fine. All the leaves are brown and all that

A delightful post-punk treat. As always when listening to Siouxsie Sioux, I am filled with a particularly depressed form of happiness, or a particularly happy form of depression. Who's to say? I just know John McGeoch’s guitar tone on this album is cool as shit.

Twin Peaks: The Return “the Roadhouse is proud to present”-core. This album frustrated me because it would have these flashes where I was like "okay, I get it, I love this" but they were never sustained over a particularly long period. I think I'll need to revisit at a later date.

For me to discuss what this album means to me, I have to first discuss what Wilco is to me as a band, which will, unfortunately, require a slightly long digression into what Wilco is not and what they were once understood to be. Everybody got that? Because this could get really heated. In 2007, Rob Mitchum reviewed Wilco's sixth album, Sky Blue Sky for Pitchfork. The review was, characteristically for Pitchfork, more negative than that of most other critics. He rated the album 5.2/10 and dismissed its "unapologetic straightforwardness," stating that it "nakedly exposes the dad-rock gene Wilco has always carried but courageously attempted to disguise." Not only does the review essentially dismiss a band of dudes in their 40s for not making music expressly designed to appeal to 20-something-microbrew enthusiast, it also attempts to retroactively discredit that band’s whole body of work. This vitriol, if I can psychoanalyze the mid-2000s hipster brain, seems to stem from a sense of betrayal. You see, Wilco's run of albums from Summerteeth --> Yankee Hotel Foxtrot --> A Ghost is Born were "weird" and "experimental" (you'll never know how much I hate that word) and had established Wilco as America's answer to Radiohead. It doesn't matter that Wilco themselves never really intended to push music in brave new directions and were, in fact, a midwestern alt-country band that just happened to dip their toes in the waters of indie rock for a brief period before moving on (I call this a "reverse Pavement"). Because they happened to feature somewhat unorthodox instrumentation on a few songs, they must have been making Kid A part 2. What self-styled purists called "real" Wilco was, in fact, just a phase, with Sky Blue Sky marking a return to the sound of albums like A.M. and Being There, albeit with more proficient musicianship. Mitchum expressed his regret at the review in 2019. He, quite literally 3 weeks ago, was on a podcast discussing the subject. In 2021, Pitchfork quietly changed its position on Sky Blue Sky, calling it "essential" and rating it an 8/5/10. Jeff Tweedy has consistently voiced his displeasure with the dad rock tag, calling it "unflattering and hurtful" in 2014 and "reductive, ageist, gatekeeping" in 2023. While promoting Sukierae, the 2014 literal-dad-rock-because-it-was-just-him-and-his-son album, he insisted that Wilco were never cool or, at least, never tried to be cool. And while it's easy to knee-jerk and call him (and, yes, me) thin-skinned for being bothered by internet memes, I think there's no lazier form of criticism than being dismissive of things for being too popular with the "wrong" people. Even if we start from the premise that it's somehow unusual that a band of middle-aged men is especially popular with middle-aged men, to act like that invalidates them as artists is lazy. Just as it's lazy when the rockists on this site talk shit about Taylor Swift for being too popular with young girls, it's lazy when people boast that they'll never watch Star Wars because it's for neckbeards, it's lazy when the worst kind of person on Twitter calls it a "red flag" for a dude to enjoy Fight Club or The Catcher in the Rye. It’s all just a way to say, “this thing is popular but I refuse to engage with it, as it is primarily enjoyed by people to whom I feel morally and / or intellectually superior.” You don't have to like everything and, I would actually really strongly encourage you to not like everything, because if everyone had the same tastes then everything would look, sound, and taste the same a la the gray blob episode of The Fairly Oddparents. But I would also really encourage you to engage with art on its own merits or shut the fuck up. My own relationship with Wilco began with this album, included in some listicle about “times bands totally pwned their labels” (more on that later) or something to that effect. Like some others we've discussed, I can remember exactly where and when I heard this album. I initially classified it as "pretty good, not great" and "overrated" because I was a teenage boy and thought being contrarian and edgy made me cool. I too fell into the trap of comparing Wilco to Radiohead and, even worse, I fell into the trap of thinking this was in any way an original thought. In 2013, as a high school graduation present, my brother got me tickets to the Americanarama Festival of Music, headlined by my forever GOAT Bob Dylan and featuring support from Wilco and My Morning Jacket. Wilco was the act on the card for which I had the least enthusiasm because, as you would know if you read the paragraph above, I had declared them "overrated." They, in short, won me over through a stellar cover of George Harrison’s “Isn’t It a Pity,” where they were joined by Jim James, and through multiple subsequent concert experiences I have declared them to be the best touring band I've ever seen. Whether it's entirely true or not, they also became my default answer when asked who is my "favorite" band just because they're the only constant presence in the Top 3. The fact that I didn't immediately love this album represents, I think, one of the most radical shifts in my identity over my 31 years of life. It was the first album I ever bought on vinyl, and later incorporating it into my wedding decorations. The CD stayed in my old car's CD player for years and is, I think, the only CD I still own. When close friends visit Chicago, I will receive texts with pictures of the Marina City Towers and have been expressly told by someone "When I think of Wilco I think of you." I overcorrected to the point that I had "American aquarium drinker" as my Twitter bio for ages. I'll talk about Yankee Hotel Foxtrot now. If you're still reading this, text me a zebra emoji. The circumstances of this album's creation are, more than anything, probably responsible for its reputation. I'll reiterate, briefly, the three most notable things about this album, in order from least to most interesting. 1). Jeff Tweedy was struggling with addiction and mental health issues. He and Jay Bennett were in the midst of a tremendous falling out, and everyone hated everyone, as captured in the incredible I Am Trying to Break Your Heart documentary, which at times feels almost like a horror movie because of how uncomfortable the levels of passive aggression can be. To psychoanalyze again, it's more likely than not that a decent amount of his resentment toward the whole "dad rock" thing stems from the fact that his "good" music was made at such a low point in his life and the music made when he was in a much better place gets shat upon for being "dull" (read: too earnest). 2). Wilco turned in the album to their label, Reprise, with the intention of releasing on September 11, 2001 (an important date to remember!) who hated it so much that they refused to release it. Wilco managed to negotiate their release from the label and take the album with them. They offered it as a free stream on their website a couple of weeks later and people loved it. So, Wilco negotiated a deal with Nonesuch Records to actually release the album in April. Nonesuch and Reprise were both imprint labels of Warner Bros and, thus, Warner Bros famously "paid for the album twice." 3). The 9/11 of it all. Some of this album is so clearly about 9/11, and yet it also literally cannot possibly be about 9/11. Remember, the album was actually scheduled to be released ON September 11, 2001, meaning it was written, recorded, mixed, and sequenced prior. Because it was officially released later, it became "common knowledge" that album was intended to comment on 9/11 and the US response thereto. Jeff Tweedy was viewed as the Chicago suburbanite alt-rock answer to Toby Keith. The two towers on the cover, songs like "War on War" and "Ashes of American Flags," lyrics like "tall buildings shake, voices escape singing sad sad songs" and “voices whine, skyscrapers are scraping together.” But fucking all of it is wholly unrelated coincidence. Now, I'll talk about MY thoughts on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. I saw another reviewer say this album never tells the listener how to feel, but forces them to feel a certain way; and I like that. Jeff Tweedy is part of that elite gang of songwriters whose lyrics are as intriguing to me as his sound. Every song on this album has at least one line that makes me do a double take. This album is fucking sad. Even when it sounds happy, it’s through the lens of so much pain. The amount of static and feedback on these songs, combined with the amount of nostalgia, regret, and straight up apocalyptic imagery in these lyrics has always made me feel like I was listening to a broadcast beamed back in time from a bunker at the end of the world. I fully intended to do a write up on every individual song (and actually did write most of it) but if I spotlight everything I’m not really spotlighting anything. And also like 3 of them were just some variation of me saying “this is a perfect pop song” (“Heavy Metal Drummer,” “I’m the Man Who Loves You,” “Pot Kettle Black”). "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart" is a bold album opener. It sets a scene but it is not at all a pleasant scene. The lyrics are cryptic and Dylan-esque, I don't know what "I assassin down the avenue" or "take off your band-aid cause I don't believe in touchdowns" means. But then when those lines are juxtaposed with the brutality of "This is not a joke so please stop smiling" and "You were so right when you said I'd been drinking" and "I always thought that if I held you tightly, you would always love me like you did back then" and "Still I'd be lying if I said it wasn't easy" the effect is simultaneously dreamlike and all too realistic. Even when I was in my "this album is overrated" phase, this was a song I would play on repeat. Not because I could relate to it, because I could not then and still cannot now, but because the mindset of this character felt so disturbing but also believable. It’s a similar mindset to “Kamera,” which is a great entry into the canon (that was a pun about cameras) of happy-sounding upbeat songs that are actually pretty fucking bleak. Those opening lines are perfect. “Radio Cure”’s “Distance has no way of making love understandable” is like this grim fucked up inverse to “absence makes the heart grow fonder” and I think it’s probably more accurate. The fewer experiences we share, the harder it is to maintain emotional connections. “Jesus, Etc.” is, I think, the most popular Wilco song, right? Like, if you only know one, it’s that one. And it’s also got some really powerful imagery. Not just the tall buildngs/skyscrapers stuff I mentioned but also, “you were right about the stars, each one is a setting sun” getting called back with “everyone is a burning sun.” It’s actually a pretty heavy song to be thrown in the middle of an album and especially to be as popular as it is. Ending with “Reservations” is a powerful move that demonstrates, at least, attempts at growth. Lyrically, it is essentially “I am trying to do anything BUT break your heart.” Today was the first time in I don’t even know how long that I’ve LISTENED TO Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, as distinguished from having it on in the background while I drive or do chores or whatever and I’m understanding more than ever what makes it so special. The themes of isolation and regret, but also the need for communication and connection.

I only got 3 zebra texts on Friday, very disappointed in you guys!! Anyway I anticipate there’s others in the group who will share my love of this one so I’ll be shorter today. But I think if you caught me on the right day I’d lock this in as a potential best album ever, as distinguished from “favorite” Understanding the greatness of The Beatles mostly involves talking a lot about calendars. Please Please Me comes out in 1963. They play “I Want to Hold Your Hand” on Ed Sullivan in 1964. Then, somehow, by 1966 they’re doing drum loops and reciting quotes from the Tibetan Book of the Dead. In a vacuum, they’re a band that made some really good songs, but also the time between their first and last album is 2 years less than the amount of time since I’ve been out of college, yet they produced such a high volume of music of such high quality, in a way that has never been replicated, let alone surpassed. In the internet age, it is impossible to appreciate this evolution, because we have unfettered access to basically all of recorded history. But I want you to imagine, for a moment, that you live in an analog age. The only music you've heard is what gets chosen to play on the radio or what you've been adventurous enough to actually purchase. You have no idea what a significant number of musicians even look like, unless their picture is on the album art. So you saw The Beatles on Ed Sullivan, you bought Rubber Soul and said "gee whiz! this album is out there!" because the keyboard was sped up on "In My Life" and "Norwegian Wood" had a lead instrument you've almost certainly never heard because, in this scenario, you're a farm boy in Kansas and you have a Forrest Gump haircut. After your mother is finished washing your mouth out with soap for uttering a phrase as vulgar as "gee whiz," you make your way to the record store to buy the brand new follow-up album, Revolver. The store clerk gives you a disgusted look because 5 months earlier, John Lennon said in a newspaper interview that The Beatles were more popular than Jesus, but you coolly explain to her that you are actually buying the record so you can burn it with your youth group. She smiles approvingly and probably says something really offensive and unrepeatable by today's standards. You get home and throw the record on and ELEANOR RIGBY IS TRACK 2 AND THEN I'M ONLY SLEEPING HAS A WEIRD REVERSE GUITAR SOLO AND LOVE YOU TO IS HAS FULL ON SITAR AND TABLA AND WHAT IN THE LOVE OF CHRIST IS GOING ON Best Beatles album frfr and also if this is your first time listening to this you probably got to listen to the 2022 remaster and not the godawful 2009 fake stereo mix where they just stick the guitar on one side and the vocal on the other.

The story behind this album's inclusion on the list is actually quite interesting, as it was intended for the companion book "1001 Albums that Make Brandon Want to Die" but ended up here due to a publishing mix-up. An understandable, though unfortunate, error.

I saw how long it was and then went to go check to see what the bonus tracks were and, to my horror, there are no bonus tracks and the album is just actually that long. At least a decent amount of it is pretty good. But it’s offset by sheer volume. I looked during “Move Around” and got genuinely angry that there were 5 more songs left.

I’m a big Tom Waits guy and this has always been my favorite of his albums (Mule Variations is close second). It's the first step in his evolution from "enjoyable but not especially interesting Leonard Cohen/Randy Newman facsimile" to "old timey hobo jazz man" to his seeming endpoint as "I think this man might literally be the Beast from Over the Garden Wall deep scary voice avant-garde character artist." I dig the vibe here and the concept is strong. You're at a jazz club and there's a crazy man doing a hybrid between standup and jazz. Also he throws in a ghost story. I don't really have any way to intellectualize this, it's just an album that tickles my lizard brain and honestly I listen to it the whole way through probably at least once every 2 months because I wish I was creative enough to make anything like this.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENdnlBdvM-4

I think Alanis has a really fun voice and cadence to imitate. You’ll never watch Full House the same way again! Here’s a really, I don’t want to say interesting, but weird bit of personal lore. Circa spring 2015 I listened to this album a lot while playing old ratchet and clank games. This week i have also been playing ratchet and clank games and this album came up and it was a very specifically nostalgic experience.

This is as good a place as any for my "grunge is not a thing and is just a marketing concept invented by labels and media" rant, so I will start by saying "grunge is not a thing and is a marketing concept invented by labels and media." If you look at the "big 4" of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, and Soundgarden you will first be struck by the fact that they sound nothing alike. Pearl Jam is just a classic rock band, Alice in Chains is like... sludge metal or something, and Soundgarden is a recovering hair metal band. Nirvana was a punk band who happened to blow up, so then the others decided to ape their aesthetic and pretend there was a "scene." Further, despite being Flanderized post-death into "flannel guy" there's like strikingly few photos of Kurt Cobain wearing flannel. Like, yeah there's a few, but you've gotta do some scrolling on Google Images to get there. You know who did wear lots of flannels? People in the Pacific Northwest. Like, remember when Agent Cooper gets suspended from the FBI and he just starts wearing flannels? I do. In short, it is my hypothesis that a bunch of journos from Chicago or NYC caught some shows in Seattle, saw a bunch of people wearing flannels, and just assumed it was some crazy new subculture. In 1992, the New York Times, ran the following and was somehow unaware that it was being mocked: "All subcultures speak in code; grunge is no exception. Megan Jasper, a 25-year-old sales representative at Caroline Records in Seattle, provided this lexicon of grunge-speak, coming soon to a high school or mall near you: WACK SLACKS: Old ripped Jeans FUZZ: Heavy wool sweaters PLATS: Platform shoes KICKERS: Heavy boots SWINGIN' ON THE FLIPPITY-FLOP: Hanging out BAND AND HAGGED: Staying home on Friday or Saturday night SCORE: Great HARSH REALM: Bummer COB NOBBLER: Loser DISH: Desirable guy BLOATED, BIG BAG OF BLOATATION: Drunk LAMESTAIN: Uncool person TOM-TOM CLUB: Uncool outsiders ROCK ON: A happy goodbye" and this straight up got published by the most prestigious American newspaper. So, in sum, I do not trust the prevailing historical narrative on this matter. Also, the album is very good.