This album feels like the musical personification of random = funny. There are some cool psychedelic grooves that almost venture into Trip Hop territory, but they're padded out with a bunch of artsy bullshittery that I feel make the album less cohesive as a whole. The vocals seem uncertain of what they want to be, and the lyrics leave a lot to be desired. If it was cleaned up a little bit and had a couple more substantial tracks to replace the filler, the album would be a cool and trippy late-90s gem. As is, I only really got enjoyment out of Brimful of Asha and Good to Be on the Road Back Home, and found myself pretty bored with the rest. The record is certainly unique, but maybe hone it in a little for the sake of listenability?
When people ask what my favorite Queen album is, I usually tell them Sheer Heart Attack. A Night at the Opera seems a little too obvious, and A Day at the Races just doesn't hit the same. That being said, revisiting this I was surprised by just how weak the B-side is. Stone Cold Crazy remains incredible, but almost all of the other tracks on that side are incredibly forgettable. The A-side makes up for it at least, being comprised of some great glammy tracks like Flick of the Wrist, Now I'm Here, and of course Killer Queen. I still think I would say the sound they are going for here is my favorite of any of their albums, but after Stone Cold Crazy I almost feel inclined to just leave the rest be and move on.
What can I say about Paranoid that hasn't already been said. An album that practically invented metal as a genre, influenced decades of artists, and still holds up well even by modern standards. It feels like an album that should've come five or ten years after prog rock and the likes of King Crimson, but unbelievably was released not even a year after In the Court of the Crimson King. Every single track carries with it a disgustingly classic riff, to the point I sometimes let the genius of the rest of the album pass me by. It's Paranoid, what more needs to be said.
Nick Drake may very well be my favorite songwriter of all time. In his tragically short career, he put out three albums all of which I consider perfect, with Five Leaves Left being his first. This album has a very interesting duality to it, with some darker and more ominous tracks like River Man being right next to bright and soothing tracks like Time Has Told Me. They almost sound like they should be on different projects, but the fact that they aren't honestly makes it better. Five Leaves Left is such an expansive world fit inside of a 40-minute disk. It's a beautifully-colored canvas using very simple paints. Nobody has captured a feeling like this album does, a deep, poetic loneliness that hides behind beautifully simplistic melodies and lush chamber instrumentation. What can I say? Nick Drake was a troubled genius.
Once upon a time this was my favorite Dylan album, carried mostly by the fact that Don't Think Twice, It's All Right was and still is quite possibly my favorite song of all time. It's not my favorite anymore not because it has gotten worse for me, but others, namely Blood on the Tracks, have grown on me significantly. That being said, there's a simplicity and rawness to this album that I don't think Dylan ever achieves again in his career, even if his songwriting improves and his sound gets tighter. Something about this early version of Girl From the North Country really makes me appreciate how much can be done with bare-bones instruments and a knack for songwriting. There are a few songs that drag on, World War III Blues sticks out, but the more I listen to them the more I appreciate them for what they are. The album is simultaneously a product of its time and also incredibly forwarding for folk music. It not only lays the groundwork for the path Dylan's career will take in the next 5 years, but also encapsulates an anti-war sentiment that would define America for years after. While some of these songs have lost relevancy to time, it's fascinating to view them through the lens of a Kennedy-era American. The music might not be flashy or impressive, but it lets the songwriting take the reigns and immerse you in Bob Dylan's world. Even if he would go on to do even greater things, that should be a testament to just how good Dylan was.
Time Out by many accounts is one of the most influential jazz albums of all time. It popularized the idea of uncommon meter in jazz, as well as introduced a large population of White Americans to contemporary jazz, growing the genre's popularity significantly. The alto sax of Paul Desmond is a major highlight of the record for me, it's such a whimsical and playful tone that makes this record have such a distinct sound. The track Take Five is an obvious standout, becoming arguably one of the most recognizable jazz recordings of all time, but there's a fun and cool vibe to be found in almost every track on this record. For me personally though, I've never been super impressed by Brubeck's piano. Other piano greats like Evans and Ellington have a personality on the piano, and use it so much more expressively than I feel Brubeck does on this record. I feel like he prioritized a clean and consistent tone to appeal to a wider audience, but it feels a little flat even if the licks he's playing are quite nice. I tend to prefer intimacy in my cool jazz, which could be why this record can't be considered among the greats for me. The B-side is also pretty forgettable, while it's nice when it's on it doesn't have the same potency as the A-side. That being said, I always enjoy the record when it's on, and I have to recognize its historical importance in shaping popular jazz.
What were the Brits doing in the 90s man?
I've never been a huge fan of Blur, in fairness I've never really given them a fair shake, but upon listening to this album it cemented my distaste for them. I just don't get it. Sure, Parklife is out there and does some cool things; found myself bopping along to To the End and Girls & Boys, but overall the album just kinda went in one ear and out the other. Maybe with repeated listens it would grow on me, but something about the sound they're going for here feels very ignorable and stale. Banger album art though.
The Yes Album is without a doubt the breakout album for Yes, who would quickly make a name for themselves as one of the most influential and forwarding prog bands of all time. The record is a little safer than the magically experimental places they'll go a year later in Close to the Edge, but that by no means detracts from its quality. Every track on The Yes Album is just undeniably infectious to a degree that very few prog artists have ever achieved. It draws the perfect line between the bluesier side of rock that was dominating popular music at the time and the less accessible prog that would spawn countless classic albums to us music nerds, but go mostly under-represented in the popular world. In this way, Yes is the everyman's prog band, pushing the boundaries of the genre while carrying a sound that was incredibly fun to anyone who knew the slightest bit about music, and I think The Yes Album is the perfect personification of that. It's no wonder that this album and Fragile would make plentiful appearances in pop culture well past their released dates. While it's not something I find myself putting on all that often, I can't help but recognize just how influential The Yes Album was in establishing prog's presence in the music world.
I did not at all expect to dislike this album as much as I did. My experience with the Monkees, though limited, has been mostly positive, with the few tracks I remember off More of The Monkees and Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd. being quite fond in my memory. This album gave me the ick in a way I did not expect a psychedelic pop album could. Aside from For Pete's Sake and Randy Scouse Git, almost every track made me actively cringe while listening to it. I don't know exactly what it is, if it's their slightly off singing, the questionable lyrics, or the whimsical yet generic psychedelic pop behind them, I just could not get into this album for the life of me. It was rather disappointing, especially given this is the only Monkees album on the list, I expected at least something I could bear to stomach. sheesh...
Guns n' Roses is a band that was hugely successful, but unfortunately for me it's to their detriment. Appetite for Destruction is heavily reliant on its singles, but I have a hard time enjoying any of them because they've all been played to death. Welcome to the Jungle, Paradise City, and Sweet Child o' Mine are decent enough hard rock songs, but they're just too everywhere. The rest of the album isn't great, a lot of fiddling with a very generic screams-of-the-80s sound with a lot of uncomfortably sexual songs that just don't do it for me. While I don't love the sound they're going for, I'll defend it a little from an engineer's point of view. It's very well produced and I think in terms of hard rock everything sounds punchy and full. That being said, it doesn't make up for the fact that the only three songs worth a damn on this whole record have been forever ruined for me by the MLB and 94.7 FM Dad Rock Radio.
Killing Joke is a band that has never stopped evolving. They've built on their sound for decades, consistently putting out new and interesting material for over 30 years. Their eponymous debut is the starting point of that evolution, and dammit if it isn't a good foundation. One thing this record has going for it over most other post-punk bands on the scene at this time is the riffs are just so groovy. It keeps this really dark and ominous sound throughout, but at the same time invites you to bounce along to it. The effects they get out of the synths are also very interesting; though they'll push it further on later records, those textures have their roots here, already quite well developed. It really feels like every member of the band is completely in their element, every part being just as interesting as each other and combining to make an incredibly cohesive post-punk sound. Almost every track is a great blend of darkness and drive, with the only track I didn't love being $.O.3.6.. While the singles are great, I think the deep cuts hold their more than people give them credit for. Killing Joke has always been consistent and this record consistently rips.
You'd think I would have learned my lesson not to sleep on Folk Rock classics after The Band's Self-Titled turned into one of my favorite records, but here I am again being floored by an album I've put off for too long. When you put four amazing guitarists on a record together, I guess it's not surprising that the result is guitar being used as well as I've ever heard it in a Folk Rock context. Every track feels incredibly earthy, which I think comes from Neil Young's influence. It adds a complexity that makes the project a lot more interesting to dissect and enjoy. Almost Cut My Hair is my favorite example of this, introducing a grit that separates it from the more harmony-focused tracks like Carry On. The record sounds lush and absolutely wonderful for such an old recording; the use of imaging lets each instrumentalist showcase their own virtuosity in a super interesting way. I'm a sucker for pastoral folk rock like this, shame on me for ignoring this for so long.
I'm unsure of where to start with this one so I'll start with this: while I respect The Doors and Jim Morrison for their influence to music, I've never been the person to go out of my way to listen to them. Their eponymous debut is great, but outside of that I've never really ventured into the rest of their discography. That being said, Morrison Hotel was just alright for me. It didn't leave a super strong impression on me, similarly to their other records but even more so. There were some good tracks don't get me wrong, Peace Frog was great and Waiting for the Sun and Blue Sunday were also enjoyable. I was surprised by just how consistently good the record was, but that's kind of all it was to me: good. I prefer something to really stick out at me, to draw me into a listening experience and leave me with a new feeling I can associate with that album, but Morrison Hotel didn't really have any of that. The most I can say is that "it is certainly a Doors record." It may very well be that I just don't love their sound compared to other psychedelic artists from the same time, but it just doesn't personally do much for me.
2112 was, for a considerable time, my favorite Rush album no question. That can almost entirely be contributed to the epic A-side suite which to this day I still consider to be my favorite progressive rock song of all time. I've always been a fan of this era of Rush, and 2112 is a perfect concentration of what that sound is capable of. Unfortunately for the rest of the album, it kind of gets overshadowed by the tremendous A-side. While there's some greatness that peeks through on tracks like A Passage to Bangkok and The Twilight Zone, the track run as a whole is very underwhelming in comparison. This is why A Farewell to Kings eventually replaced 2112 as my favorite Rush record, it does the things that make the A-side amazing for the duration of a whole album. I'll give Rush credit, as this is still the first record where they really got their sound down. They just needed a little bit more time to hone it. 2112 remains a great album and an all-time amazing song, and despite its shortcomings remains among my top three Rush albums.
While I've heard of Jane's Addiction in passing, before today I've never actually listened to any of their music. After listening through Nothing's Shocking, I'm not sure if I'm better or worse off. I'll get it out of the way, the vocals on most tracks suck. Every now and again Farrell will do a cool scream that will have me thinking "oh maybe the vocals aren't so bad", only to immediately be dropped into a section that doesn't block his voice with a wall of guitars and drums. Outside of this major flaw, the record is honestly pretty good. Summertime Rolls stood out immediately to me, that bass tone is just so nostalgic of this era of Alt-Rock for me. In general, when the band gets in a groove, it's easy to tune out the vocals and just vibe to it. I can see why the target demographic for this band is stoner uncles named Bob. Shout out to the horns on Idiots Rule that caught me so off-guard I choked on my water.
Seeing how I typically enjoy country more than most people on this website, it's a bit contradictory that John Prine is an artist that never really clicked for me. While his lyricism is clever and he writes some great songs, I've always gravitated towards the more solemn side of country. With this listen though, a few tracks did click with me for the first time. Pretty much the whole A-side was quite enjoyable, once I got used to Prine's voice it was a very smooth experience. Sam Stone stands out as the best track hands-down, but Hello In There also deserves a mention. The B-side is certainly a step down, with the final four tracks not doing a whole lot for me. Maybe I just got worn out and the magic from the beginning couldn't carry on to the end, but Your Flag Decal Won't Get You Into Heaven Anymore is the last track I would say piqued my interest. Maybe those tracks will just take a bit more time to grow on me, (to be fair, I'd heard the big songs from the A-side a few times up to this point), but I found myself losing interest in the last 20 minutes or so. Overall the album does have its bright points, but I much prefer the more raw, emotional side of country over the accessible production of this record.
"Heroes" has always been a very interesting addition to David Bowie's discography. Capitalizing off the sound so well-executed in Low, the album clearly has one focal point, that being the self-titled track Heroes. Regardless of how good the rest of the album is, Heroes will always stand out as one of the most interesting songs of all time. It is the merging of three great forces, Bowie, Fripp, and Eno, into a singular, concentrated 6 minutes of greatness. It's a track that momentarily makes me forget my love for album-oriented music, as it's hard to focus on the rest of the album afterwards. In forcing myself however, the rest of the album is quite pleasant, though not particularly memorable, which is just a testament to ambient music I suppose. The A-side is more traditional vocal tracks, all of which are decent but a little too artsy and lacking in catchability (aside from Heroes, of course). Eno's influence certainly makes this side a unique listen, with some tracks not being too far off from stuff found on Another Green World. The ambient B-side is nice in the moment, but far less interesting or memorable than Low's instrumental section. Moss Garden is the only track that really sticks out to me as being worth a specific mention, with some incredible synth work making it the most immersive of the ambient tracks. Overall, the album has it's weak points, and if it wasn't for Heroes, I think it would've easily fallen in line with a lot of Bowie's more forgotten albums from this period. Because of the legacy of that one track though, it marks an arguable turning point in Bowie's career, extending the influence of Low and cementing its place in rock history.
Frank Ocean has always been a singular artist, with a style so unmistakably unique yet smooth and appealing. He has been a leading force in modern R&B for over a decade, and Channel Orange really showcases how much talent he had even early on. This album is so evocative for me, makes me think of warm summer days and simpler times. It might not be as emotionally vulnerable and explorative as something like Blonde, but I don't think it needs to be. Sometimes it's good to just have a nice, flowery, romantic summer album to remind you of warmth during cold and dark days. While the singles are absolutely stunning, with Pyramids being one of the greatest R&B tracks of the 21st century, I think the album as a whole works incredibly well in creating a cohesive vibe. In a weird way it reminds me of Songs for the Deaf, probably because of the whole television theme, but more so because it's eclectic bunch of songs that work together as a way of exploring different avenues of life. Each track drips with exploration and creativity while still managing to maintain their orbit around a beautiful, warm, tight R&B sound that Frank Ocean has mastered. Though I may have some criticisms, there is no album that is more reminiscent of the joys of summer than Channel Orange.
Al Green took the longest to grow on me of the big Soul names of the 70s, with his unique production style not quite agreeing with what my ears want to hear. That combined with his more directly sex-driven subject matter made it an uphill battle to compete with the likes of Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder. Eventually, I'm Still in Love with You clicked for me, and it has helped me appreciate much of his other work as well. Even after this though, Let's Stay Together as an album does not hold up as well for me unfortunately. Despite the eponymous track being absolutely stunning, the rest of the album fails to carry that momentum anywhere. With the exception of How Can You Mend a Broken Heart, the rest of the tracks feel flat and formulaic. It leaves the album feeling more one-note than I would like, with any shred of memorability from the other tracks being overshadowed by the only two that venture to do something interesting. Albums that are packed with nothing but love songs typically struggle to keep my interest, but I can get into it more when the musical material supporting them is engaging enough. Unfortunately, I think Let's Stay Together suffers primarily due to its lack of variability for the majority of its runtime, relying too heavily on its wonderful singles to make up for the rest.
