1001 Albums Summary

This was my first review for the 1,001 albums project and I initially gave it two stars, but I gave it a second listen and found more to appreciate. Folk rock is not really my thing and the pace here is leisurely for my tastes, but from a technical perspective I think this is very well done. The instrumentation is used to good effect and David McComb has a distinctive and pleasant voice. It's funny to read the troubled history of the making of this album, because I think from a production standpoint, it sounds great. It's varied in melody and pace. I can't go higher than three stars because I don't really hear a song that I want to seek out or put in a playlist, but the album as a whole isn't a bad listen. I'm happy I came back to it.

Despite enjoying The Bends, OK Computer and Kid A when they came out, I somehow missed Amnesiac until this project made me listen to it. I'm not sure why that happened. Maybe I heard "Pyramid Song", didn't really like it, and forgot to check out the rest of the album. 24 years on, I still don't care for "Pyramid Song," but I have chalked this up to a Me Thing. The album properly starts for me with "You And Whose Army?" and I enjoy every song from that point to varying degrees, with the exception of the instrumental "Hunting Bears." There is a cohesion here, and I suspect I enjoy listening to these songs in contrast with each other more than I would listening to them piecemeal. Anyway, I'm happy I got around to this album. There's a whole lot more to say about this period of Radiohead's career, but I'll circle back when the project gets to Kid A.

One of my all-time favorites. Pace, biting guitars, raggedy melodies, head-bopping rhythm section. The songs are short, sweet and full of energy. The songwriting would be more polished on Doolittle, but for bursts of manic, punk energy, nothing tops the more blistering tracks on here. The band also shows that they're versatile beyond three chords and a cloud of dust on "Where Is My Mind?" (the album's most well-known song due in large part to it's inclusion in the movie Fight Club) and the Kim Deal-fronted "Gigantic". Steve Albini's production here that makes you feel like you're in the studio with the band (including some snippets of conversation, unbeknownst to the band members). The loose energy almost makes these songs feel like demos, but in a good way. With everything in pop music so engineered within an inch of it's life nowadays and all imperfections removed, it's great to hear something that feels alive and in the moment.

I'm not a Steely Dan guy, but even setting the bar low, I've never gotten the praise for this album. The only songs I find engaging are "Rikki Don't Lose That Number," the Outlaw Country "With A Gun," and the angular, sinister "Charlie Freak." "Any Major Dude Will Tell You" sounds like warm milk but gets points for extremely corny '70s lyrics ("I've never seen you looking so bad my funky one/you tell me your super fine mind has come undone"). "Barrytown" might have been a good song if there was even an ounce of menace the lyrics suggest in the music. "Parker's Band" is the Dorky White Guy tribute to Charlie Parker to the point where it's almost feels like an insult to Bird. "Pretzel Logic" is the dorkiest, whitest, blues song you'll ever hear. Everything else is so forgettable that I can't even bother to make fun of it. I am certainly not one to criticize vocals too much (I just praised a Frank Black album, for chrissakes) but Donald Fagen's warbling straddles the line between "quaintly charming" and "I wonder if I would like this more if they had a better singer." Pretzel Logic is an album very much of it's time. Steely Dan's previous album, Countdown To Ecstasy, was a commercial failure and they needed to get back on the radio. 1974 top 40 wasn't really a neighborhood for challenging music, so yes, compared to Barbra Streisand, Grand Funk Railroad and John Denver, this was practically avant-garde. But a lot of their music was suggestive of better, funkier and (dare I say) Blacker music that was taking place at the time, and nobody should have needed the White Guy filter to enjoy any of it.

Let me start by saying that I have a tremendous bias for David Bowie. This was the music of my "I feel miserable and I need to not feel miserable" music. The day he died, I went in to work early and put on my Bowie playlist and when the first notes of "Life On Mars" dropped, I started sobbing uncontrollably. I've never shed tears for a celebrity before or since. But this was my guy. A more rational opinion would acknowledge that "Eight Line Poem" and "Fill Your Heart" ain't that great, "Andy Warhol" isn't much aside from a cool guitar riff, and impending fatherhood made Bowie maudlin on "Kooks" (although this a song I sing to my dogs, so I obviously don't hate it) and I don't know what he's on about in "Quicksand" (but the music's great, so I don't really care). I rarely focus on lyrics and Bowie could often be inscrutable, but "Changes" is not that. Unpretentious, pointed prose that comes together melodically and resolves in a great chorus. Life On Mars is a seminal piece of music and never fails to make my heart swell. "Queen Bitch" has one of the all-time great riffs. "The Bewlay Brothers" is a devastating song about Bowie's schizophrenic brother. "Oh! You Pretty Things" is joyous and "Song For Bob Dylan" that serves as both send-up and tribute is a lot of fun. Any album with "Changes," "Life On Mars" and "Queen Bitch" is getting an automatic five stars, but even without those three giants, I think this album might still earn it. One of the best from one of the greatest English-language artists of all-time.

It's 1956 and big band is dead, daddy-o. All the hep cats are listening to dudes like Charles Mingus and Sonny Rollins and Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker (no wait, he died the previous year). That young man Miles Davis was cookin', relaxin', workin' and steamin' his way into the public consciousness. Quartets and quintets are where it's at, Jack. Paying 16 musicians is for squares. Okay, I'm going to stop talking like this. Ellington was struggling when 1956 came around. Bebop, modal, cool jazz, latin jazz, etc. etc. had usurped the big bands of the 1930s and 40s. His band was surviving on European tours and royalties from his previous work. At the time of the Newport Jazz Festival, he didn't even have a record deal. The concert at Newport was a major success, reinvigorating interest in Duke's music for the rest of his life. He signed with Columbia and the ensuing LP (which was mostly a studio recreation of the concert because some of the live audio was missing) was a smash hit. My mom owned it. Some time between 1956 and 1999, some other live tapes were found and the concert was painstakingly put together in all it's glory on a two-CD set. Ellington himself passed before I was even formed into molecules, but I've seen the Duke Ellington Orchestra live several times, dragged people to listen to it who had no interest in jazz and nobody could tell me they didn't have a good time. It's bouncy, it's fun, it gets into your bones. Unless your soul is made from concrete, you can't help but enjoy yourself. Having said that, it's never tempted me to riot and demand the band never leave the stage, and even listening to the concert in retrospect, it's hard to say what provoked the Rhode Island crowd into such a frenzy (there are chapters of the reissue titled "Announcements, Pandemonium" and "Riot Prevention" which... wow! This is definitely a hypothetical Time Machine stop.) Everything comes to a head on Paul Gonsalves's 27-chorus solo (lasting almost six and a half minutes) which is pretty amazing for such a long solo in that it never gets repetitive and also that he didn't pass out, but what he's playing is less interesting than the chaos that you hear rising up around it. Something is clearly happening. Gonsalves's bandmates are hooting and hollering, and you can hear the crowd (who supposedly got up out of their wooden lawn chairs and started dancing in the aisles) steadily join them. The end of the solo isn't greeted by raucous applause--people are *screaming*. And that energy is maintained throughout the rest of the concert, with Duke having to try to calm the crowd down multiple times through many encores and only playing a minute-long "Mood Indigo" as the closer (with the crowd still audibly angry the concert will soon be over) with the band probably desperate to get off stage at that point. If I were to grade this album strictly on musical quality, I'd give it four stars. Duke's compositions are earworms and the band is cracking. But the recording of the concert and the audience's reaction is an experience well worth hearing at least once in your life, and that earns the extra star right there.

I don't like being dismissively negative about music since one person's trash is another person's treasure and I try to glean the positives that other people might see in any given recording. But my honest opinion is if this album wasn't made by Paul McCartney, I don't think anyone would have given it a second thought. The best song on here by a significant distance is the breezy "Jet" with it's chugging rhythm and fuzzed-out guitars. "Band On The Run" is a good song up until McCartney thought everyone would love to hear the name of the song repeated two hundred times. (It's only twenty, I counted, but it feels like two hundred.) Repetitive choruses and songs wearing out their welcome are a theme on this album. On most of them I kept checking to see how much time was left. There is also, if I may be blunt, a lot of self-indulgent nonsense here. "Bluebird" is a song you only record after you have achieved some fame. It angered me to finish "Picasso's Last Words (Drink To Me)." There's recording a fuck-around track and recording a fuck-around track that lasts almost six minutes. A pox on you, Paul McCartney! Another demerit: I don't think the album sounds good. Not the music necessarily, but the production. I know the album was recorded in Nigeria and there were issues with the studio. Whatever the case was, it doesn't sound like a polished product. This is especially noticeable on the closer "Nineteen Hundred and Eight Five" where Paul's going for a big blowout with the orchestra and the horns and guitars all at once and the production doesn't live up to it. It just sounds like a mess. (I listened to the 2010 Remaster for this exercise, and maybe there's a better version out there, but honestly I really don't consider this album worth revisiting to find out.) A few good points: As I said, I think "Jet" is fine and despite my complaints, I don't hate the title track, but it's nothing I would seek out or add to a playlist. I think "No Words" is pretty good, although I wish he had taken the title's advice because the vocals are the weakest part. It is also, not coincidentally, the shortest song on the album. I like the bouncy bassline on "Mrs. Vandebelt" and the the first half of "Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Five". Both songs stick around too long. Everything else is a slog, especially "Picasso's Last Words." I'm going to keep track of my least favorite songs from this exercise, and that one's in the pole position for now. In summary, not a great album, at least for me.

A truism I feel about 90% of songs is I'd like them more if they were played at double time. For Leonard Cohen, that may not be enough. His singing is so deliberately slow, it almost feels like that Second City sketch about Perry Como falling asleep while singing. The primary emotion I get out of Leonard Cohen's singing is somnambulance. The music is secondary to the lyrics here, and I'm not really a lyrics guy. But even paying attention to them, the ideas are not anything that speaks to me. Cohen is a glacial poet who revels in inscrutable imagery and I'm not feeling what he's putting down (although in "Famous Blue Raincoat," imagining Leonard languidly penning a letter to the man who cuckolded him is very funny too me for some reason). Anyway, this is another Me Thing since a number of smart people (including many musical artists I like) love his music. It's just not for me. (A notable exception is the angry, growling "Diamonds in the Mine" which I think is terrific. If only the rest of the album was more like it!)

Oh hell yeah! I knew of The Gun Club but had never heard any of their music before nor did I realize they were the progenitors of psychobilly/cowpunk, etc. This is great! Short, punchy, catchy songs that somehow combine punk with shuffle beats and slide guitar. I think the songs are better at the sub-three minute time with their longer songs wearing themselves out a bit, but I think that's pretty typical for punk in my estimation. A bit more variety would have escalated this into five-star territory, but even as is, it's a good time.

Yeah, of course, five stars. I imagine there will probably be too many Beatles and Beatles-adjacent albums in this exercise, but this is not the one to take off. Just the variety of impeccably crafted music here is stunning. I think "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" is too corny to be anything other than a trifle, but I can't really take issue with anything else. George might be the MVP of this album with "Something" and "Here Comes The Sun" but Lennon is close behind with the shifty, paranoid "Come Together," the trippy, psychedelic "Because" and the primal, minimalist "I Want You (She's So Heavy)." A note on that last song. I have complained in the past about overlong, repetitive songs on other albums, but I love this one. What a hypocrite! The organ stabs, the bluesy instrumental break, the swelling, chaotic three-minute outro. I understand if people don't like it. I've complained enough about songs like this, but I always ride this one to the end. "Octopus's Garden" is terrific. Best song Ringo ever did or would do. Paul may have my two least favorite songs here (outside the medley). "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" was a precursor to a lot of the silly Paul solo/Wings stuff I couldn't vibe with. "Oh! Darling" is fine, I always wind up singing along to it. But he saved his best stuff for the end. I've never really thought of the medley as a single musical work. "You Never Give Me Your Money" is a complete song in it's own right, and it's quite good. "Sun King/Mean Mr. Mustard/Polythene Pam/She Came In Through The Bathroom Window" is an impressive string of snippets that could have worked on their own as individual songs (but arguably, they were as long as they needed to be) and "Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight/The End" is the Beatles saying goodbye. I pretty much like everything here, but my favorite bits are the Polythene Pam guitar bridge leading into "We Came In Through The Bathroom Window" and the orchestral integration on "Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight" (shout out to George Martin). Anyway, this is a tremendous album. I've listened to it too many times for it to surprise me any more, but there are very few I'd keep in my collection over it. Abbey Road forever.

The Kinks had some great, catchy songs and could crank out addictive riffs, but almost none of them are here. The praise for this album is confined almost entirely to the lyrical content and that's mostly because the music and production are nothing to write home about. "David Watts" is a cool little song. You should hear The Jam play it. Ray Davies took over the recording and mixing of the album and admitted that he didn't have the skills to handle it. The instruments are often muddy and the whole thing exhibits a real lack of polish. Certain types of music can benefit from a more relaxed production, but this isn't garage rock. The stylistic references (music hall, baroque pop, etc.) feel like relics of a past before musicians learned what you could really do with a guitar. Yes, the lyrics are clever and evocative. It's the delivery method that's a chore to get through (nowhere more so than on the grating verses of "Lazy Old Sun"). I know this is considered a classic album, but I would rather listen to almost Anything Else by The Kinks.

Fun fact: "Rock Lobster" got banned at school dances at my high school because kids would slam-dance to it. Love this album. Fred Schneider and I are clearly on the same page that words are secondary to the music and you may as well just have fun with them. Nonsense lyrics about beach trips, phone numbers that don't work, the moon (which is called the moon) and a woman from Planet Claire (which has one of my favorite funny song bits where after the chorus repeatedly tells us she's from Planet Claire, the second verse says some people think she's from Mars or the seven stars before Schneider angrily sings "well she isn't!") all served as excuses to riff on the Peter Gunn theme or play some surf rock. The music is catchy, danceable and fun and Kate Pierson's and Cindy Wilson's harmonies are punchy and irresistible. Not every song works. Dance This Mess Around gets a little screechy (but still contains the wonderful phase "I'm not Limburger! I'm a limber girl!") and I think listening to all these songs back to back is a little exhausting, but nevertheless, if you like fun, bouncy, unserious music, there are several bangers on here that are worth your time.

Not much to say here. I like it. You give me pacy, melodic guitar and keyboard-driven music and I'm a happy camper. I'm not the biggest fan of Bernard Sumner's vocals, but his voice doesn't lessen the overall impact for me. Can take or leave the instrumental "Elegia" and weirdly-mixed "Sub-Culture", but otherwise every song is good.

Listening to this, it makes sense that there was this whole very theater-like presentation with costumes and such. It doesn't sound like music for it's own sake. It's music and a show. Like there's something that should be happening on stage during all of these instrumental breaks. I really can't discern the appeal of most prog music aside from "this is different from what everyone else is listening to and also look at us, aren't we impressive in our ability to play it?" And sometimes there can be enjoyment found in that, but I don't find it on this album. The jams that run through most of "Dancing With the Moonlight Knight" are sometimes cooking and sometimes just aimless noodling like they had a set time eight-minute time limit and were struggling to fill it. That's how I honestly feel about a lot of these long suites. They're just there, notes played next to another notes. Not randomly, but without any real spark or enough craft to match the sense of grandiosity that seems like it's the intent. The absolute nadir of the album is the 11 minute and 44 second "The Battle of Epping Forest" which as a forest is a slog on par with the Ardennes during both world wars. I am absolutely done with this song by the three minute mark and there's so much left to go. The next song, "After the Ordeal" is fitting in a way that the band probably didn't intend. The intent and purpose of any specific music can be debated endlessly. Calling something like this sort of thing pretentious feels overly dismissive. What it comes down to is do I enjoy listening to it and for this album, the answer is no.

How would you react to Ghosteen if you didn't know that it was put together in the wake of the the death of Nick Cave's son? Is the knowledge necessary to appreciate it? You might be able to discern that something happened because of the various themes (grief, loss, hope, etc.). You might wonder what Elvis ("Spinning Song") has to do with any of this. I did go in knowing the circumstances of this album and I still didn't like it. It's like warbled beat poetry accompanied by some (admittedly nice) soulful backup singing, all played over the sort of ambient nothingness you might try to fall asleep to. I play every album in this project in it's entirety to provide an honest opinion, and so far this one was the toughest to get through, even more so than Leonard Cohen's quarter-speed snooze ballads. That seems harsh for an album about a man reconciling with the death of his child, but hey, he marketed the shit out of these circumstances, with a documentary, an album, a "live recreation project" (of the album, not his child's death) and a concert tour. There's nothing wrong with expressing grief through art. Grief as commerce leaves me feeling squirmy. Grief On Tour seems like the kind of thing a burgeoning cult leader would show up for to find recruits.

Only know this band from "Bittersweet Symphony." Was interesting to read up on their tumultuous history and how Oasis was involved. Anyway, music was okay. I liked "A New Decade," "A Northern Soul" and the guitar freakouts in the Reprise the most. I'll circle back and give this one another listen.

I've stated repeatedly that I'm not a lyrics guy, but this project has made me shift through so much pretentious singer-songwriter bullshit, and here we have Gordon Gano, age 19 when the album came out, writing most of these songs in high school and delivering so many direct, simple, emotional, cathartic statements and marry them perfectly to anxious, wiry, angular, catchy music. Yes, this album is seemingly about high school angst, but let's be real, the emotions covered here stick with most men throughout their lives. Their greatest hits are all here: "Blister In The Sun," "Kiss Off" (one of my all-time favorite songs), "Add It Up," "Gone Daddy Gone" (the greatest use of xylophone in any rock song ever) along with some less-heralded but equally great album tracks in "Prove My Love," "Promise," "Ugly" and the sinister "Gimme The Car." Gano may have peaked as a songwriter in high school. Their follow-up, Hallowed Ground, was very good, trading teen-angst for religious angst (his father was a Baptist minister), but after that the band felt like a ship without a course. Regardless, the first album is an absolute masterpiece.

Let's get one thing out of the way. There's a lot of cheese across this album. "Glass Onion," "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da," "Wild Honey Pie," "The Continuing Story Of Bungalow Bill," "Martha My Dear," "Piggies," "Rocky Raccoon," "Don't Pass Me By," "Why Don't We Do It In The Road?," "Honey Pie" and of course, the eight-minute avant-garde wankfest "Revolution 9." Do I think any of these songs are great? No. I'm also not really a ballad guy, so you can throw "Blackbird," "Mother Nature's Son," and "Julia" on the list of stuff I'm not crazy about. Wow, that's a lot of songs to not like, how can I possibly give this five stars? Because there's still a lot of great music left. "Back In The U.S.S.R," "Dear Prudence," "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," "Happiness Is A Warm Gun," "I'm So Tired," "I Will" (the rare ballad exception), "Birthday," "Yer Blues," "Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except For Me And My Monkey," "Sexy Sadie," "Helter Skelter," "Long, Long, Long," "Revolution 1" (even if it is the lesser version of this song), "Savoy Truffle" (yes, I like it, shut up), and "Cry Baby Cry." That's a lot of good music, including several classics, so as a collection of songs it's got enough to be a five-star album for me easily. But you'll notice I used the term "cheese" in the first paragraph and not "filler" because I don't think anything here really qualifies. As much as the album was the boys being divided and working on their own stuff, I think the album works as a cohesive listening experience, partially due to the songs being mostly very short (the album averages out to 3:06 per song and that's including Revolution 9) and partially due to some ingenious sequencing, so whatever you're listening to at any given moment, you've got something different coming up next. It is my most played Beatles album. When I had a 90-minute commute to work, very often "Back in the U.S.S.R" would be blasting when I pulled out of my driveway, and Ringo would be singing "Good Night" to me when I pulled into the parking lot at work, and I never got bored or annoyed. I even listened to Revolution 9 all the way through, a track I hated for a long time until it eventually grew on me, at least to the point of tolerance. We live in a time of artists deliberately creating music that is as uninteresting as possible so they can get Spotify plays as background noise. The White Album is the opposite of that. It grabs your attention throughout.

Love RATM, but maybe not a whole album at a time. The music is utterly fantastic, and while I think singer Zack de la Rosa is great in smaller doses, a whole album of him tends to wear on me. Compositionally, this album is really impressive, with a lot of variety in their framework and I don't think there's a bad song in here.

Never been a big Tribe guy, as I prefer my hip-hop to go harder than what they were serving up. Certainly not bad, though. I never listened to this album in full and was surprised at how little Phife was on it. "Footprints" is sensational and "Pubic Enemy" is very good. "I Left My Wallet In El Segundo" and "Luck of Lucien" are fun. Nothing really bad here, it's all pleasant, but other rap artists just grab my attention more.

B.B. King was in his eighties when I saw him live. He played from a couch (and was wearing a muumuu). His fingers weren't quite as dexterous as they were in his prime, but his voice still had power and emotion, and he was very funny when he talked to the audience, so it was a good time. This album is an absolute delight. This was a concert for people to get out of their seat and dance, so every song is a stomper. Both B.B.'s singing and guitar playing are emotive and perfectly attuned to the subject matter of the song, and even his spoken word intros and interludes are engaging. The enthusiastic crowd adds to the whole experience.

I only knew M.I.A. from the singles ("Paper Planes," "Bad Girls", etc.) and had never listened to a full album of hers, so I didn't know what to expect. I liked this a lot! The album is named after her mother and a running theme is struggles that her mother had to go through, but this isn't a dire affair, it's a dance party. "Paper Planes" is here and it's terrific, but so is "Jimmy" (about an infatuation with a journalist covering the Rwandan genocide set to a Bollywood disco number), the bumping "XR2" (an ode to London's '90s rave scene), the sonic assault of "20 Dollar" (which references the Pixies "Where Is My Mind?") and the charming "Mango Pickle Down River" where M.I.A. raps and sings with The Wilcannia Mob, a group of adolescent aboriginal boys about catching fish, jumping off bridges and playing the didgeridoo. Timbaland was originally supposed to produce Kala, and it's a blessing in disguise that it didn't happen. The album is all over the place in it's influences, themes, and styles, perhaps reflecting the global journey by M.I.A. in recording it in six different countries, but M.I.A.'s distinctive singing and straightforward lyrics tie everything together. It's not really like anything else, and that's what makes it great.

A classic. Hard-charging rock driven by the genius of guitarist John McGeoch, accompanied by an able rhythm section of drummer Budgie and bassist Steven Severin. Every song has a dark edge to it: feelings of paranoia, dread, melancholy, uneasiness, all encapsulated by Siouxsie Sioux's tremulous, unsettling vocals. Siouxsie and the Banshees don't get anywhere near enough critical love. Whether you call this post-punk, art rock, gothic rock, or whatever, the sound is distinctive and has a place at the table of great rock albums.

Folk music is not my cup of tea, but I'll give this album two points: It's short (only 36 minutes) and it rocks out a little bit, at least. The songs prominently involve the instruments and they aren't just there as background dressing for Stevens' hippy-dippy lyrics. Even at the short running time, it's still pretty monotonous, but better than the usual singer-songwriter fare. I'd rather they had tossed in a second Cat Stevens album than the umpteen albums of Leonard Cohen that were included.

*headbangs, makes devil horns, shreds air guitar* Good stuff!

Wanted to like this, but by the fourth song I was checking to see how much time was left. The vocals annoyed me, and the backing tracks weren't interesting enough to make up for it. Whatever they were going for her, I just couldn't vibe with it.

Like most double albums, this is a mixed bag. There are some fun, groovy numbers in here and a some forgettable easy listening. Stevie overall didn't radiate with me outside of a few songs, but even at two hours, this passes the time amiably enough.

A critical darling and evidence that music reviewers are the easiest people on the planet to impress. One review said "the sound of a band taking a mandate to be a meaningful rock band seriously" as in they haven't screwed up their aspirational *seriousness* by sounding like they're having any fun. Everything about this is mid. Midtempo, middle-register singing, middling temperament. Nothing exemplifying happiness or joy or anything to get the blood going, the kind of music you'd go to watch live with your hands in your pockets, maybe silently bobbing side to side to signify that you were enjoying yourself. There are a few moments where the instruments rock out a bit and if I'm honest, the drums sound pretty fun on some of these songs, but overall this is like the album version dry Oscar bait.

Manic Street Preachers are a first-time listen for me. It seems a lot of the discussion of this album revolves around Richey Edwards and what happened after to him, but what I hear listening to it is just a great punk album, one that (some contemporary lyrical references aside) I would not have guessed was released in 1994. The sound is aggressive, melodical, and cathartic, as easy to appreciate for it's musical elements as it's (appropriately blistering) lyrical content. One of the best discoveries I've made so far with this exercise.

Fun fact: X was the first band I ever remember hearing live, when my sister snuck me into the back of a bar where they were playing. I'm surprised X's first album Los Angeles didn't make the 1,001 albums cut because I think it's at least as critically valued as Wild Gift, but I'm not going to complain too much because I don't really care for either album. The main issue has always been the John Doe/Exene Cervenka harmonies. I just don't like listening to them all that much, and the musicianship on the album isn't enough to make up for it. I actually prefer their third album, Under The Big Black Sun to their first two. The songwriting is better and while the vocals are still not too my taste, they're more suited to the new material and less of an impediment to my enjoyment.

There are three Smiths albums and four(!) solo Morrissey albums in this exercise, and that is way too many even for 1,099 albums, but this is not one that I'd take off. I'm not a lyrics guy and I feel that you can enjoy 99.95% of music without knowing what the singer is singing, but Morrissey's lyrics are rewarding to look up. They're alternately very witty or picaresque in their conveyance of simple, urgently felt emotion. On top of it, the music accompanying them isn't simply a vehicle for the lyrics, and is enjoyable in it's own right. Many of the albums I've come across on this list have had me checking how much longer I had to go. The Queen Is Dead is the opposite. It leaves me wanting more.

Classic album for all the reasons everyone says it is. One of the best backing tracks of any rap albums ever, thanks to the Dust Brothers. The combination of Beasties juvenile (but entertaining) lyrics don't always jibe, but they were skilled and every song is different enough within their framework. There are seams, but overall, there isn't anything quite like this album. But wait, the 1,001 albums doesn't include Check Your Head? Are you fucking kidding me?

Eh, it's fine. I like this more than the Beatles' early albums, but it still feels very remedial and timid compared to what they would eventually come up with. Daltrey in particular doesn't sound very comfortable in any of the genres he's attempting. "My Generation" is good (although the stuttering makes it seem like an affectation to make it stand out more) and the instrumental "The Ox" is fantastic, but nothing else is the equal of these two tracks.

This will be one I have to come back to, because my thoughts aren't fully formulated yet. The backing music was better than I was expecting for an indie folk album. Sufjan's voice is cloying on some tracks and fits in well on others. I appreciated the generally upbeat and melodic tune of most tracks. It's a long album, and as with most long albums, there's a bit of hit and miss. Giving it three stars now, but I'll return to it for a more in-depth listen.

I'm not sure this is absolutely an album you need to hear before you die, but it's a good time. Dusty started out as a British folk singer, came to America and fell in love with soul music, giving voice to many storied composers of both white and black music. Depending on the song, the results could be maudlin or in the case of some Motown stompers, absolutely electric. This album was a collection of some of her favorite songs, and I think she had good taste. Her voice is well-suited to all the material, and the tracks here are well-produced (although I guess most on the in-print CD are alternate mixes than there were on the original album). Best song is the scorching album closer (not counting bonus tracks) "Don't You Know," (which is an unquestionable improvement over the Ray Charles original) but "When The Love Light Starts Shining Thru His Eyes" and bonus track "Can I Get A Witness" are also great and she ably takes her own turn on the Shirelles "Will You Love Me Tomorrow." Maybe not an essential listening experience, but it's enjoyable nonetheless.

I've only heard a few ska songs that I've actually liked. It would be interesting, if only to me personally, what I find so off-putting about it, but sufficed to say that I didn't like this album. I can't give you a logical reason why other than I've never been a fan of the combination of leisurely pace and rocksteady rhythm that signifies most reggae/ska music, but on top of that in this particular case, the vocals have a really off-putting quality to me. The songs with faster tempos ("Concrete Jungle" and "Little Bitch") are more enjoyable, and the bass on some of these songs sounds fun to play, but overall there are too few diamonds and too much rough. The only other thing I have to add is go for the Deluxe Version (2015 remaster) if you're going to listen to this. The 2002 remaster is terrible.

Not much to say! Good, crunchy guitar rock, very enjoyable to listen to.

Some very Beatles-inspired (maybe a little too much) pop that's pleasant to listen to if not necessarily revelatory. I like all of the individual elements of it--the vocals, the instrumentation, the melodies, etc., but the big thing that kept me from enjoying it fully is a really mushy sound, one I have to either blame on a patchy recording, because even the 30th anniversary remaster isn't much of an improvement, and it's the sort of music that really could use a polished presentation to really make it shine. If there is a really good mastering of this album, I'd love to listen to it.

I do not and will probably never understand the appeal of Tom Waits. This is a bunch of world-weary blues crooning from a 30-year old (at the time) who by his own account had a pretty normal childhood in suburban California. There were plenty of unheralded Black blues artists who were better singers and better musicians with authentic stories to tell, but he's the guy who got all the movie soundtracks and critical fellatio because his voice sounded like he gargled cigarettes. To me, this Emperor has no clothes, but there are four more albums on this list to go through and change my mind.

Young, feisty, political firebrand Morrissey isn't as dryly witty as he would be on The Queen Is Dead, but he has found a pacey, energetic sound for a soapbox, powered by the darting guitar work of Johnny Marr, and the results are fine. Only a few sloggy songs keep this one from ranking higher, but the best stuff is very good.

I know who the Stones are, I'm familiar with their hits, but for this album, I can't escape how it just sounds like a very good bar band. It's a very solid album, but nothing jumps out to me as a must-hear song, and every genre touched I think has superior exemplars elsewhere.

This was an album where I had to be conscious of the release year, because otherwise I wouldn't have understood the hype. I can imagine this sounding revelatory (or at least very distinctive) in 1977, but to me, it sounds remedial. Or maybe I just don't get minimalism. I understand that Kraftwerk formed the basis for a lot of music that came after, but it's antecedents have make the music on this particular album sound like a historical artifact. And we're talking 1977, not 1927. I wasn't expecting to give this my second 1-star rating out of this exercise. It's not painful to listen to, but it doesn't spark any emotion whatsoever for me.

Let me just start off with a disclaimer: This is not a review of Michael Jackson the human being (who I actually got to meet in a business capacity a few years before his death). The things Michael Jackson are accused of make him a 0-star human being, but I'm not reviewing Michael Jackson, I'm reviewing Thriller, and this is an excellent album. First of all, it's amazing how good the original album sounds. I've compared it to the 25th anniversary remaster, and honestly, I think the original sounds better. Just a terrifically produced album, extremely warm and spacious, even without the future advances in digital engineering, so a big shoutout to Quincy Jones and recording engineer Bruce Swedien. Even goofy schmaltz like "The Girl Is Mine" sounds so luxurious, I actually find it pleasant. But "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'," "Thriller," "Beat It," "Billie Jean," "P.Y.T." That's already enough bangers for five stars right there, and the lesser known song" Baby Be Mine" is good as well. I'm not a big fan of "Human Nature" or the closing ballad "The Lady In My Life" but so what? Who rates an album by the songs you can skip? This is supremely well-engineered and composed pop music and I think it's reputation is deserved. If you don't want to listen to the man because of what he was, I get it. From an appreciation of pop music, I think it's unassailable.

Well, I gave Kraftwerk one star for Trans Europe Express and a couple of them have come back with another band name and another stinker. Side One is "Ambient music," i.e. the background "you don't need to pay attention to this, just keep on doing whatever you're doing" slop that Spotify is making billions from disaffected people who don't have the attention span to engage with anything for longer than five seconds. Full credit to these guys, they were fifty years ahead of their time. Side Two is better, but nothing to write home about. E-Music is seven minutes of pointless chugging riffing followed by three minutes of what sounds like howling wind with occasional stabs of other stuff. It is a contender for "least favorite song I've heard so far in this exercise" next to Genesis's "The Battle of Epping Forest." "Hero" and "After Eight" are proto-punk songs and while they're not amazing, at least they're music that's trying to engage, and you can see the roots of some future great music in here. Like a lot of the stuff on Trans Europe Express, you see the rudiments that future artists would expand on and make more worthwhile music. Alright, "After Eight" is growing on me, and I may actually like it. You are saved, barely, from the one-star level of hell, Neu 75.

I feel like I'm trampling on sacred ground by saying this, but I think Otis Redding is... fine? His voice is great, don't get me wrong, but the loosey-goosey, stop/start, rambling style of his approach trades in power for enthusiasm, and maybe doesn't translate as much to a studio environment. What does translate to the studio album is the backing band: Booker T. & the MG's (RIP Steve Cropper), plus Isaac Hayes on piano, and a ripping horn section pilfered from the Mar-Keys and Memphis Horns. The music absolutely crackles. This is a largely a covers album, but Otis definitely takes ownership of more than a few songs. His version of B.B. King's "Rock Me Baby" is a sweaty masterpiece and Otis made everyone forget the original version of "You Don't Miss Your Water" (who the heck is William Bell, anyway?). He steals "Shake" from Sam Cooke, gives a looser, funkier version of "Wonderful World" and maybe doesn't quite top Sam's version of "A Change Is Gonna Come" but I do appreciate the small-band arrangement of it compared to the ostentatious strings and horns of Sam's version. The version of The Rolling Stones "(I Can't Get No Satisfaction)" is less a cover than an interpretation, with Otis abandoning the lyrics after the first verse to forge his own path, but the backing band absolutely kills it. In any case, Otis would receive a dose of his own medicine when Aretha came around to take "Respect" from him, so it's all good. Fun album, but it's a shame this is the only Otis content we'll get on this list. His album The Dictionary of Soul is also a great listen, as is his Whiskey-A-Go-Go concert album.

A classic album, and a deep one. The title track may be my least favorite song on here, and that's not a criticism. I like "Paranoid," but it's probably the most conventional song and least interesting song on the album. The songs were mostly developed from riffs that the band came up with while jamming, which is very apparent. The songs are very loosey-goosey and extremely bluesy (with the exception of the psychedelic "Planet Caravan") with very little apparent intent beyond "craft a song around this killer riff" and it works better than it has any right to, because the riffs are strong and the added elements work really well. I think this is just due to really good songcraft from guitarist Tommy Iommi and strong embellishment from bassist Geezer Butler and drummer Bill Ward, and the result is an masterpiece.

Sade is living right. Make an album, go on tour, make a bunch of money, chill out for a decade or so, come back with another album, make more money, go back to your cottage in England and live a happy life, rinse, repeat. The fact that people always show out for the new albums and tours in enviable numbers means she's doing something right. I'm not the best person to judge what she's doing right as whatever this kind of music is (Wikipedia lists the genres as "smooth soul," "sophisti-pop," "quiet storm" and "smooth jazz," and I can only say the last one is wrong, because this isn't any kind of jazz) really isn't my bailiwick, although I certainly don't mind having it on. It's pleasant and polished, and the music production side of me approves. Even though the album is forty years old, it doesn't feel like it needs a remaster. It's not very exciting (to me), but if I were in the mood to just listen to something to chill out, you could do far worse.

I love the Beasties. On my shortlist for albums to contribute to this list when I've finished is Check Your Head (my favorite of their albums), but I'll admit I rarely go back to listen to their debut in full. The album is too much screaming, too many similar break beats, too much Rick Rubin, whose production I appreciate in short bursts, but if I'm honest, about half the tracks I could skip because they're monotonous. It should be pointed out that the Beasties were young, dumb and stupid at this point. The original title for this album was "Don't Be A Fa**ot" (they have since recognized the error of their ways and apologized) but while there are quite a few funny lines throughout, the album is largely crass and juvenile, and not necessarily in a way that makes their protagonists likeable. There was also some startling creativity being hemmed in by Rubin and Russell Simmons, who were conspiring to rip them off, and it would come out after they moved to Capitol Records in the masterpiece Paul's Boutique. The bangers on this album, "Fight For Your Right," "No Sleep Til' Brooklyn," "Brass Monkey," "Girls," "Paul Revere," etc. mean I can't rate this album too low, but it ranks well below what were going to see from the group.

Amiable rock & roll with various drops into a country-ish vibe. I admit, a lot of this went in one ear and out the other, but the more energetic tracks were enjoyable enough ("Monday" being my favorite), and I don't mind giving this another, more attentive listen.

I had heard various songs from this album, but never listened to the full thing. What a revelation! This album arrived in the midst of a lot of tumult: Graham Nash had broken up with Joni Mitchell, Stephen Stills had broken up with Judy Collins, and David Crosby's girlfriend was killed in a car accident a few days before they started recording and him often being unable to function. Further tumult arrived in the form of notorious curmudgeon Neil Young. Since Stephen Stills practically played everything with a string or keys on recordings, they needed another pair of hands for touring and invited Neil Young. Naturally, he complained about everything and only participated on half the tracks. This was like CSN's version of The White Album, with each member mainly working on their own stuff and only getting together to have other members play the instrumental parts and add other vocals, but it all comes together surprisingly well. I listened to the 2021 remaster, and while I don't think it sounds pristine, the sound quality isn't an impediment to the music. There are a lot of great songs here: "Carry On", "Woodstock", "Country Girl" and the romping closer "Everybody I Love You," but my favorite song is David Crosby's visceral, cathartic "Almost Cut My Hair" (which Stephen Stills curiously wanted to cut because he didn't like the vocal performance, which is nuts, because Crosby sounds amazing). Anyway, this is a terrific album with a lot of texture and some especially great performances, both vocally and musically. A classic.

Aesthetically, this is up my alley. Hard, fast-paced, raggedy-ass music, hell yeah, let's go! There's only one problem, and it's that I don't really enjoy much of it. Every song sounds like it's being run with the reverb switch glued in place, giving the effect that the album was recorded from inside a metal box. I don't mind this technique being used once in a while, but for a whole album, it's exhausting to listen to. The same with Lux Interior's vocals. Fine in short doses, wearing over time. The overall style of garage/psychobilly still holds some pleasure for me, so I can't hate on this too much. A song from this album sprinkled in among other music is fine. But the whole album at once is too much of a specific thing.

A candidate for my favorite rap album of all-time, and one of my favorite albums, period. A once-in-a-lifetime project where the circumstances came together to create something thoroughly unique. First off, this is one of the best-produced rap albums of all-time, with beats and samples perhaps only exceeded by Public Enemy's "Apocalypse 91" and the Beastie Boys "Paul's Boutique." The RZA lays down a sonic environment that combines old Chinese martial arts films and soul samples. The nine MCs had to battle for the right to rap on each track (the scorecard, not counting choruses, intros, outros, etc.: Raekwon 8, Ghostface Killah 7, Inspectah Deck 7, Method Man 6, GZA 5, Ol' Dirty Bastard 5, RZA 5, Masta Killa 1, U-God 1; although GZA and Method Man got solo songs). This meant a group of young, hungry and talented MC's were competing with each other to get bars and in this iron sharpened iron. The verses are exceptionally strong. I won't even get into how influential this album is; maybe the most important album in New York hip-hop history. What matters is that even after 30 years, it's still as exciting and fresh as ever.

I thought Being There was a decent album, but Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is mostly a snooze. Very well produced, and some of the musical choices are interesting, but the vibe is very contemplative and introspective, and I don't need that in that music! I have a child-brain and it wants to be stimulated with excitement!