1001 Albums Summary

-like a button down shirt had a bad dream and wrote an album about it. -this band had themselves figured out from day 1. A fully formed, unique style in a debut album. -file under "so square it's funky." A truly punk rock approach to r&b. -no skips. -really sounds like NYC in the late 70s, but also so influential you can hear a glimpse of what 80s new wave will be. Many people copied this sound, but no one did it as well. -say what you will about Byrne, but the guy has no inhibitions on his voice. -it would be hard to name a better rhythm section in rock music in the 70s.

-Xtina has more in common with Fred Durst than she'd like to admit. This album fits nicely with the "neo-eclectic" style of early 2000s MTV fodder. Limp Bizkit hybridized rap and rock for suburban white adolescents and this is basically market-tested r&b for the same audience's sisters. -Sure, she can sing. But the nonstop vocal backflips drive me nuts. They are tasteless and aesthetically unpleasant in the same way a Yngwie Malmsteen guitar solo is technically virtuosic but musically unsatisfying. People whose musical diet is 90% contestants from singing competitions are likely to tell you "she's actually a really talented singer!" -The ballads are pure schmaltz. Whitney she is not. -I can appreciate the W Bush-era resilience feminism (sex positivity, body positivity, "strength," etc). But it's a bit ironic the themes of the album are all about finding inner beauty, stripping away the makeup and designer clothes, not needing a makeover, loving your curves, appreciating your imperfections, etc when you take one look at the album cover.

Arguably the most important pop record ever. As the poet Philip Larkin wrote, "sexual intercourse began in 1963." It's hard to overstate how much the Beatles transformed popular culture, personal politics, and social mores at that time. Beatlemania was a world-changing event for young people, especially girls. This record signals a total redistribution of the sensible (what people now crudely call "shifting the overton window"). Contemporary listeners often misunderstand the early Beatles era as a necessary phase to get into the more "revolutionary" style of their middle period. It's true that the revolutionary New Left movements of the mid-late 60s (the anti-war movement, the free speech movement, the sexual revolution, women's liberation, psychedelic counterculture, etc) all had some kernel that originated with the screaming girls who overpowered the police (the late great Barbara Ehrenreich makes this point in one of the best essays ever written about the band). But this early phase was radical in itself. The Beatles completely changed how people thought of the auteur-performer in rock n roll; if you need proof, look at the list of 1001 albums and count how many guitar rock bands wrote their own songs before 1963. (spoiler: it's 1...Buddy Holly and the Crickets, which might as well be a solo act with a backing band. Compare that to the number only 2 years later in 1965.) Not to mention, they had a totally distinct visual style (thanks to Brian) and were witty and charming as hell. When they landed in NYC in early 1964, they were like aliens from another planet. For context, the Beatles also released 3 non-album singles within 6 months of this album: "I Want to Hold Your Hand," "She Loves You," and "From Me to You." Part of the problem with the 1001 album project is it places undue importance on "the album" as the ultimate recorded musical work. In 1963, albums were still a relatively new medium and the Beatles were still figuring out how to do it; they didn't even consider putting their 3 strongest singles on their new album and insisted on including only brand new material. They were among the first musicians to think of albums as complete art objects (see the Astrid Kircherr-style cinema verite photograph on the cover) instead of just a way to repackage popular singles around some extra filler. In other words, without With The Beatles there is no 1001 albums list.

I love the Kinks, but they pushed the whimsy faders into the red on this one. Some good songs, but also some weird retvrn-syle English nationalism.

The opening dialogue says a couple things about Ryan Adams. 1) this guy is an insufferable record collector who will "well actually..." you in a heartbeat. 2) this guy is like Morrissey: a self-absorbed quasi-literati who is half as clever as his confidence belies. I suppose any redeeming value of this album comes from Ryan Adams's occasional ability to cosplay better musicians. "To Be Young" starts off as a faithful photocopy of Bringing it Back Home/Highway 61 jump blues, then veers into a B section that is a note-for-note lift of "Girl From the North Country." By the time he reaches the bridge, I'm convinced Adams is missing the point of strophic form; he is trying so hard to convince you of his credibility, but it's such a postmodern hodgepodge of dad rock signifiers it reveals the opposite, that he's rooted in no tradition whatsoever. "Damn Sam (I Love a Woman That Rains)" is such an embarrassing rewrite of "Just Like a Woman" it gives me a fully body cringe just typing out the title. I would point out the more obvious and elegant phrasing would be "I love a woman WHO rains," but who am I to argue with someone who would win an Olympic gold medal in objectifying women. We have learned far too much about this guy's atrocious behavior over the past 20+ years to separate this artist from this art. From what I can tell, basically every song is either "I need a woman to take care of me and let me be a bad boy" or "I hate this specific woman" or some combination of both. Maybe this would be a worthwhile listen if you've scraped the bottom of the barrel on every Bob Dylan and Neil Young b-side and outtake you could find and still want more. But I can't understand why you would want Diet Dylan if you can get the full flavor.