Ballsy snarling attitude begging you to kick open the door and strut down to the bar. Occasional glimmers of a Bowieish croon break up the tone and provide some light and shade. Feels classic, lots you recognise from cultural touchstones, but not something I'll put putting into regular rotation, in spite of some epic needle drops.
What to say about Reggatta de Blanc? Firstly the title track bangs with energy that feels almost ahead of its time. Listening to this album gave me a new appreciation for Copeland's drumming chops and style. Actually I wasn't fully aware that Stewart Copeland was the drummer of the Police before I talked about the record with friends after giving it a play through, so if nothing else I finally put that piece of the puzzle together.
Elsewhere though, the record is notably full of varied vocal textures, styles and most weirdly - accents, this leaves some songs feel extremely disconnected from the rest, for example `On Any Other Day`. Another surprise the album holds for instance, is Kermit the frog delivering the first verse of `Does Everyone Stare`, which is otherwise a true heater of a song for the genre. Again I'd give a lot of credit to Copeland here
However the iconic sound and groove of `Message In A Bottle` is undeniable and atmospheric, which actually is true for much of the record. In spite of (not because of) Sting's faux Jamaican patois in `Walking on the Moon`, that particular song and its siblings on the album (`The Beds too Big...` etc) contains a certain smokey cinematic magic which is very hard to find outside of records like Hats by the Blue Nile.
For all it's idiosyncrasies, this is a records I can definitely see myself listening to again on a quiet night in the city.
An album I can't believe I've not heard before, some songs from it already indelible in my consciousness. Victoria, of course, I have particularly fond associations with, and the rest of the record was a joy. So far, no notes, I'll be listening to I again very soon.
45 seconds into How Many Mics I'm already inhaling at the debt Doechii must owe to this track, and then by the end the "mini mini many" vocal stim that seems to predict the vocal patterns of Jacob Zuma desperately attempting to say "In the beginning". While I'm still chuckling about that `Ready or Not` hits with it's haunted panning vocal hook and switches up the whole vibe, what a track. This is a cool album, it's a window into a world I've only ever walked in through films, video games and to a lesser extent music videos. It's smooth, its accomplished, theres some obviously classic tracks and subtle samples deployed masterfully. But it isn't very me as much as I enjoyed cycling to work pretending i was a character in San Andreas.
The skits, I did not see them coming. Killing me softly is a beautiful diversion and compelling version. Lauryn Hill's flow on The Score is notable.
A few CCR songs already have a home in my heard so it is as a genuine compliment that i say this record sounds like it was recorded on a hay bale. While you're taking in the sound and picturing the classic red American barn they hit you with a masterful wailing one note (no, literally) guitar solo that absolutely knocks off your socks. `Wrote A Song For Everyone` is the first emotionally vulnerable break and its where I really start listening i think. Giveing that glimmer of what I love about Fogerty the most, which I think is the melancholy happy sad thing. `Lodi` also absolutely does it for me. I wanna listen to Cross-Tie walker riding rail cars like Jack Kerouac, full hitch hiking beat generation mode, and Sinister Purpose is so sexy it belongs in a vampire movie. Loved listening to it, come away with a few song I'll remember, but a good few that if I span it again I might feel like I was hearing them for the first time.
This was always going to be an experiment for me, I know the Beastie Boys and have some respect for them, but their output doesn't necessarily speak to me. Stylistically it's so much it's own thing that you can't argue with their credentials creatively. I'm also thrilled to discover that the theme track from Broad City is an excerpt from Beastie Boys `The New Style`. However it's a struggle to hear past a lot of the awful shit contained in the lyrics. The spirit of the party is strong, but they're teenage boys in the 80's, their takes on women at this stage in their lives are basically as problematic as they come, maybe I'd prefer the rerelease where they recanted and redacted a lot of the most ire inducing lyrics. Honestly though, the limits of my love for it are probably in it's use for summoning a kind of immaturity and parody. They remind me of nothing more than Michael Scott's Rap Video `Straight Outta Scranton`, and thats about as high as I think they're ever going to soar for me.
Look, it's not bad. It's not the Beatles, but it takes some getting used to. Without the attrition and back and forth chipping away at the rocks of invention of the rest of the band, the outcome is different. Without the smoothing down Lennon's ideas until they're glistening and perfect like a greek marble, or a perfectly round pebble on the beach, you get the raw, unprocessed ore. It feels straight out of the ground. There are some real gems in here, a few lyrics that really hit. Unsurprisingly, some performances that really hit too. It's still John Lennon. But this record is most effecting when it deals with his relationship with his parents, and the least when he's singing "A working class hero is something to be". It just falls down in the chorus department. The lyrics are actually pretty solid, but they're hung on a clothes horse, not a model, and it doesn't land. I liked `Isolation` though, this is where the record picks up a bit.
The song "God" on the other hand. My lord. That fucking hits.
"The Dream is over
Yesterday
I was the Dreamweaver
But now I'm reborn
I was the walrus
But now I'm John"
I felt that in my soul.
For John to have found such contentment with Yoko that he could write the song `Love`, and not think it was a bit much to have half the lyrics of a song be the word `love`, gives you a real sense of where he was at. It's a vulnerable record because it's casting off the play acting, the deliberate facades, masques, skits and bits. He was the walrus, now he's John. The dreamweaver coming down from the trip of a lifetime. Now he just wants to love his partner, and be a real boy. Oh and deal with his parental abandonment issues. You know what, good on him.
Cut by The Slits takes me by suprise, it's so strong and it's so weird. I expected weird, because I remember looking these girls up before. That they had little musical talent and were forced to be in a band by their nut of a father, then I realise I'm thinking of the Shaggs. The Slits in the other hand are prepossessed and cool, clearly talented, musical and overflowing with DIY inspiration and attitude.
The first track Instant Hit, is almost normal and lulls you into a bit of a false sene of security. It doesn't last. So Tough starts with ASMR of a level rarely served in music. The panned vocals make for a really weird listening experience, like you're sat in a chair with the band performing all around you in the centre. I feel extremely exposed, like I'm drinking with a table full of comedians and they're all mining me for material while I struggle to keep up.
Spend Spend Spend is when the band starts to wear some Jamaican dancehall or ska influences on it's sleeve and the refrain drenched in that echo/verb on "I've got a new improved remedy" is a production turn and atonal melody that feels so off kilter it completely works. It's very unsettling.
Where the records really grabbed my attention though is Ping Pong Affair. It feels absurdly modern, like an early Wet Leg song, or perhaps something avant guard by The Last Dinner Party trying something new. Lyrically it's sharp as a tack, just a weird down to earth, honest, unpretentious, relationship, breakup, dating narrative somehow crafted without cliches. An almost impossible feat, especially since there's been 50ish years since it was written for people to steal from it and turn it into cliches, but no-ones managed it.
The same is absolutely true of their most famous performance, the cover of I Heard It Through The Grapevine. It's idiosyncratic and totally holds up, it's also by far and a way their most played song, you can see why, it's a natural born needle drop. Guaranteed to turn heads all the way round like an owl.
I had a brief R.E.M. phase at 15, I'm honestly a little giddy with excitement to revisit beyond the greatest hits CD or whatever it was that gave me access to them back then. It's so funny because it's not a style of music I ever consciously tried to ape, or even felt particularly in love with. But what I do know is that when I started writing my first songs in bands with friends at school, the minor, modal tonality, the parallel 5th harmonic motion, the lyrical sensibility, the narrow repetitive melodic ideas almost drone like, are hauntingly familiar. It seems like writing songs like REM just came very naturally to me. And I guess by that I mean the less good ones. `Oddfellows Local 151` really epitomises what I'm talking about here.
The record really soars when the Jangle Pop shines through. It's the Smithsian guitar arpeggios. `Disturbance at the Heron House` breaks out of the melodic drones and does some trademark REM moves in it's switches between sections. By far and a way the biggest song on the record is `It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)`. The spiritual sibling and forerunner of Billie Joel's `We Didn't Start The Fire`, it's an absolute tank of a song, you can just imagine the crowd waiting patiently and going nuts for it when they finally blast it out.
In a nutshell, the band has real range. Lyrically it doesn't have the elegance of early Morrissey, sometimes it feels like Stipe is just singing a list of lines he thought individually sounded interesting even though they bear no relation to one another, `King Of Birds` is the most blatant example of this. But structurally there are similarities to the Smiths that I don't think I appreciated before. There's an awful lot in this record, and Peter Buck deserves a lot of credit for bringing the jangle, cause without it I think Michael Stipe would have gotten very stuck in a rut. It's at it's best when the vocal melodies are running the show, it's at its worst when the chords are simply walking up and down in parallel with each word Stipe sings, a la `Fireplace`.
It's a raw, pretty simple record, not a lot of funny business sonically, but it's the sound of a band cranking out songs and getting one banger for every two they make. It's a decent rate of return for mature garage band in the 80's.
Amazing for an artist to do so little with so much. Absolutely stunning voice, but i was barely able to force myself to pay attention to the record. 0 dopamine delivered, I had some mental notes made about the first track having weird pacing and starting the record with a very middle of the album energy, and then my brain slid straight off the music and starting thinking about something else.
After the biggest track, apparently, 'Sign Your Name' with 200m plays on Spotify, wrapped up, it had barely touched the sides. Just as I was considering literally switching it off to do something else, the opening gambit of As Yet Untitle peeled out, unaccompanied vocals finally delivering some sonic contrast and letting Terences true talent genuinely shine. But my optimism is shortlived, by the 5th minute the vocal only endeavour has once again forgotten to be interesting in spite of technical ability and vocal talent. I'll be honest, i switched off if the final track is the cover of Who's Loving You i think it is, I'll stick with the Michael Jackson version. Thanks Terrence, now i see why your record is on every charity shop vinyl shelf in the Uk.
Maybe the perfect Sunday afternoon album, for album made in the early 90's it still predicted the soul of the most wholesome end of the noughties. The record is never in a rush, each track landing a groove and locking in in a way that says, now you're here, enjoy it, we're not in a rush to get anywhere.
It's got range too, tunes that wouldn't be out of place in a sunlight morning movie montage conveying clearly that the protagonist has their vibes aligned and their life together. Tracks which deliver seductive, laid back, determined - it's got the lot and it works. Is it obvious I like this album yet? One listen in and I would highly recommend reaching for this the next time you're having a weekend coffee in the flat, putting out flowers, going for a stroll, or having dinner, alone or with friends. You're in good hands with Sheryl Crow's Tuesday Night Music Club.
I've tried quite hard with Neil Young in the past. I've had friends and musical collaborators who worshipped him, and honestly my attempts to understand it back then hit a dead end. I thought who the hell is this guy with the squeaky voice, and why do these songs take so long to get to such unrewarding hooks & chorus'. When he was set to headline Glastonbury I revisited the scene of the crime, sure I must have missed something. Taking his highest played tracks on Spotify felt like a surefire way in, if this didn't work nothing would. So I listened through and after a while I came away with 'Heart Of Gold', and a sense that there was just something I still wan't quite getting as nothing else stuck. Then I spent some time with Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, where I found songwriting and performances that rung me dry on the first listen, and on every subsequent listen, so I can tell you it's nothing personal, that I just hadn't gotten Neil yet.
So with that out of the way, lets talk about `Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere`. The album cover is strangely beautiful to the point that I actually kind of get lost in it, who isn't a sucker for a man and his dog? And you know what? It's quite a jam. The kind of energy I feel very satisfied to be working to, scratch that, I'm happy to be strutting through the streets of Soho to it. It's got `Withnail and I` vibes, for all I know it's featured on the soundtrack and I never noticed. The guitar solos are super satisfyingly meandering, the bass lines interesting enough to not get boring. And Neil's voice works here in a way I've not fully appreciated in my previous exploration of his solo work. `Down The River` has a Pink Floyd-ness to it that really works for me, I'm quite happy for it to go on and on.
`The Losing End` again has a great mix, Neil's vocals shine and the hook is aching and familiar. `Cowboy In The Sand` is another standout for the same reasons. The record is a love affair with the competing tones of Neil's warble and the wail of the overdrive scratchy guitar. The hooks deliver hardest when accompanied by a swell of harmonies along with the lead vocal, and I'm sure that another listen would maybe yield the full emotional impact of the lyrics here. Maybe one day it will get it, and I'll look back and wonder how I let them wash over me without getting caught in the thorns when I was 34. But for now, my door is open for Neil Young again, we'll see if he ever shows up for tea.
Cool, laid back, funny, very horned up. What's not to like? A very easy record to enjoy. A welcome addition to my, admittedly very small, stable of hip hop knowledge. Listening to music from unfamiliar genre's is like going on a city break and trying to figure out the public transport system, it's more fun that getting the train at home but you won't be doing it every day.
There's plenty of nuance I won't understand about why this album is special because I don't know what's easy and what's hard when it comes to making music like this, but it isn't hard to appreciate the sense of humour and lyrical flow of `Dr. Octagon`. From the porn movie dialogue samples (`Intro` / `Visit To The Gynecologist`) to the tracks that read like one long role play chat-up line (said with absolutely nothing but respect - `Girl Let Me Touch You`) I was immediately considering what kind of mix I could drop using something from this record as I was listening to it.
I'd never heard of Dr. Octagon before and I don't know how well known they are these days, the Spotify monthly listener sits at a respectable 91k listeners which is really not bad for an underground act that released their first record in 1996. All it'd take is one viral tiktok trend using a sample of theirs and they'd be off to the races again. But I digress, `Dr Octagonecologyst`, there's no dance-floor heaters, heartbreakers or all round crowd pleasers, but it's funny, clever, chilled and and a little sinister. `Bear Witness` is a standout banger which brings to mind `The Avalanches` best work. I'll be putting on again for sure.
Sometimes things just align for better. For this record to come into my life on a blazingly beautiful spring day, sunlight beaming across the park outside my windows and bathing my living room as the birds sing, well it's really been setup to succeed. Because this is hot weather album. It's a day to night album, packed with heat, made for spring days, cinematic road trips in convertibles, 70's movies & summer nights on the beach. What I'm saying is, this record is classic 20th century cinema.
Astrud Gilbert's voice is gorgeous, it's lovely. Echo's of Minnie Ripperton in there, perhaps largely due to the arrangement similarities & style. But it's there nonetheless. The track "You Didn't Have To Be So Nice" is so sweet it'd take a heart of stone not to crack an "Aww" listening to it. "My Foolish Heart" and "I Think Of You" got saved straight to my months discovery playlist, always a good sign. And I'll definitely be putting this album on at a dinner party near you soon.
Bad Company, more like good company am I right? Honestly theres not a ton to say Bad Company's eponymous record. It's pretty good fun, and the tunes all have the energy of a guy slinging on his leather jacket, and walking into <insert manly place where guy is going to kick ass here>. I just know that Johnny Lawrence from the Karate Kid (and Kobra Kai) would absolutely love them, and I don't mean that as an insult. Glad I know who they are now, but it left a fairly minimal impression on me beyond "I bet this absolutely slapped in the 80s".
Immediately incredible, I expected nothing less, I'd have loved this as much at 15 as I am right now, but I'm a sucker for a crooner and I always was, aspirationally. The real emotional foothold of the album tho is cemented, like a boot in when concrete, by 'You Won't Let Me Go', my god this one hit.
An impressively experimental broad album for the band most only know for the song Bohemian Like You. They avoid all the normal principles of song order on the record and with first half of the record deliver a slow build of soundscapes, drones, and slightly sinister, sexy grooves some might consider dirges. But they do work, it's like a well crafted DJ set with a slow build. By the mid-album the energy's been wound right up and you're catapulted into `Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth`. A song which has a great vocal hook, a sense of humour and a delicious jangly rhythm guitar chug.
The thing that really stands out musically in the album is the use of guitar tones to build interesting texture with often very simple chord arrangements. Vocal harmonies are also applied judiciously just when needed. `Good Morning` is a really beautiful example of that, so simple, but just keeps pulling you further in, even surprising with a deliciously simple guitar solo through some unusual pedals, sounding more like a synth than strings.
Honestly, just album with a surprising scope and ambition, really pleasant surprise. So much here to remind of Pink Floyd, The Who, and bands clearly inspired by their sound somewhat in the 00's like London band Peace, an old favourite of mine. Dandy Warhols, I bohemian like you too.
These boys I have heard before and boy have they got an infectious sound. It sits in the same sound world as bands like Khruangbin and other modern western outfits like them. Blues guitar grooves bound up with Arabic and Eastern influences results in absolutely hypnotising energy that I've listened two twice through back to back with ease.
Sometimes it helps that you can't understand any of the lyrics because the unfamiliarity means you can process and enjoy it in quite a different way, without being distracted by outstanding lyrical poetry, or conversely terrible mundane dross. I have to assume these guys are singing the former, because I don't speak the language, but damn it sounds good.
It's impossible not to enjoy Bat Out Of Hell, honestly put it on and just TRY to deny it. Meat Loaf himself has a hell if a voice, and no wonder, he spent most of his career outside of Meat Loaf in Musical Theatre, delivering iconic and definitively versions of roles like Rocky in Rocky Horror. His pipes were made for the stage, and the 70s. Of course its cheesy, of course it's not "cool". But its fucking awesome fun, it's rock and roll, it pianos being absolutely battered. Its over the top and it's going to put a grin on your miserable little face. Get at it.
You know, I liked it, I didn't love it. I loved some of it, but maybe i got a bit distracted from the rest of it? Now who shoulders does the responsibility for thay lay on? I'd rather it wasnt mine, so I'll happily argue it was some deficiency in Paul McCartney. Probably the truth is more of a split the difference situation.
I love Johnny Cash. The man is an icon. Johnny and June Carter are, I think, one of the great romances of the 20th century. And this album is just unbelievably authentic as an experience. A show in a prison? Have you heard of that before or since? No? Is it insane you can listen to it as if you were there? Yes.
Johnny's stage craft is impeccable, his between song banter controls a room full of rapt prisoners. And you can tell theyre eating it up, cause they boo the warden like all hell. If they weren't loving it, they'd be letting us know.
As an old fan of this album and the music, ever since watcing the biopic Walk The Line in my teens, it's hard to treat this as just an album. But, song wise, suffice to say the standouts for me are Folsom Prison Blues, I Still Miss Someone, and the unforgettable duet Jackson. But there isnt a dud on the album, and Cash even drops the S bomb just to give the censors something to bleep.
Pixies, not everyone believes in them, I always knew they were real but I'd never seen or heard them until now. Or at least I hadnt realised I had. Of course "Here Comes Your Man" had not escaped my cultural education, but I didnt know who i was hearing. That oversite has been remedied now thank goodness.
These guys are know for their Loud Quiet Loud song structures, they ooze 90s alt rock but they also sound more mature than that in some ways, tons of influence from earlier decades. But the vocal approach is pure 90s, really experimental. 'Tame' has whispers and explosions, 'Debaser' snarles and yowls. Both incredible songs by the way. Later in the record 'Silver' creaks, crows and sirens, in a not altogether experiment which one has to assume was deliberately off-putting. This one did have me checking the tracklisting to see how much of the album was left. Thankfully 'Gouge Away' kicks away those misgivings with an atmospheric and cool as fuck closer to the album right after.
Silver aside i do have a vague feeling that I preferred the first half of the record, I think they frontloaded the bangers a little. But I liked it so much that I'll be putting it on again right away to really examine that. This is a fucking cool album.
The most familiar reference point for the record musically and lyrically has got to be The White Stripes. The influences are so baked in, they obviously owe the Pixies a debt. Vocally, thematically and most explicitly texturally with the guitar arrangments and general textures used throughout the songs and album. In terms of vocal delivery i hear it in Jack White, and in Win Butler of Arcade Fire, who you can also tell must have been Pixies fans. It's so nice to discover the influences of your own musical foundations.
We love Joni here, since a generation (my generation) was introduced to her work in the form of Both Sides Now in that scene in Love Actually her work has been loaded for us with heartache, poetry, and emotional catharsis. Because of the immediacy of the songs on that album, Hejira poses a bit of a challenge. It's lyrically roaming, structurally it feels deliberately evasive, and musically it's drifting and beautiful, but it doesn't hang on impossibly memorable hooks like Both Sides Now. This is a record which I have a feeling will only be truly appreciated on a 5th or 6th listen.
Coyote is the most famous track on the record, and it tells a tale, it carried the hallmarks of Joni's most characteristic writing and it's a gorgeous song. It's all about a real player, an irresistible dog of the world. In todays parlance, from what I gather, he's meant for the streets. The rest of the album contains some beautiful songwriting, Hejira in particular is memorably ethereal, but all I'm saying is don't expect to come away from the record humming any of the tunes. I know there's some gold in this here sieve, but I'm going to have to run it through a few more times before I really see it shine.
This album oozes 2001, and I should know, I was actually there. It's a style that would later become a cliche, probably not that much later to be fair. But it's remarkable for it's simplicity, and effectiveness. This is from the era when Coldplay were good, when we'd all narrowly survived the much touted Millenium bug, and importantly from the era just before home studio equipment became affordable and accessible, Youtube made music production education accessible online, and even a simple record like this, required a team and studio of equipment worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Ryan Adams has since become a master the slow, emotionally devastating ballad, but at this moment you can still hear his youth and optimism. I love his later work, but listening to this is like waking up and realising it's a summer Saturday morning, and you're 13 again, just about to start honing your teenage angst. Or at least thats what the first half of the record feels like. The first indications of that talent for intimate emotional devastation are in the most played song of the album When The Stars Go Blue. Serving a style of ballad that Paolo Nutini would make his own a few years later on the other side of the Atlantic.
The second half develops a musical maturity that will take you by surprise if you have no context on Ryan Adams. The uncommonly curious introspection in Sylvia Plath, ripping solos in Enemy Fire, the timeless ensemble storytelling in Tina Toledo's Street Walkin' Blues. They demonstrate a scope to the artist that you'd never have guessed from the easy floating drone strum that kicks off the album in New York, New York. When it closes out with Goodnight, Hollywood Blvd. it's easy to see why this mammoth album (16 tracks!) made an impact.
An extremely percussive mic drop of loops and culture. It's thrown together influences from multiple continents confidently in a way which pre-empts many of the prestigious female artists of the past few years (circa 2026). You can hear stylistic elements later popularised by Charlie XCX and Peggy Gou peeking through undeniably naughties ideas. And for all those recognisable artefact's it still bears the hallmarks of a genre pushing record making bold and not necessarily commercial things choices. Some of the synths used absolutely scream 2007 indie in a way that now definitely falls into nostalgia for those of us who came up in the decade. I was kind of surprised to see this album pop up in the 1001 records, but now I get it. It's impressively weird. Built on loops in the early days of home production, and extremely London lyrical play and attitude often juxtaposed by their performer in various ways. The result is that it's extremely hard to only half listen to. Lets put it this way, i'm not getting any work done trying to listen to this for the first time.
Storytelling without words in a magnificent form. Holy shit this is amazing. And the immortalisation of moments of awe from the audience, gasps and exclamations of delight as the playing effortlessly eases from season to season in a narrative that feels like it's unfolding completely organically.
Big Star are a band that you might never have heard of, but you will know at least one of their songs, soundtrack to the hit tv show That 70's Show, `In The Street` is an ear-worm which should give you some indication of who they are. However since it's an altered cover version which graces the shows opening montage, you'd still be somewhat in the dark.
Ironically the Big Star original is arguably more authentically 70's. Released in 1972 on the record boldly title #1 Record, your expectations might be low from the sleeve, title, and band name, but they are a revelation. And they have a sense of humour.
At this point it's inevitable that their sound is drenched in nostalgia. But I suspect that they already did in the summer of love. #1 Album, their first record is so bittersweet it'll get you in ways you might expect from ELO, or even the Beatles. Their harmonies even sometimes resemble the Beach Boys. And their song all bear the hallmarks of classics. Any track from this records could be included as a needle drop in a Paul Thomas Anderson or Tarantino film and it'd bring the place down. Honestly, they deserved Big Star-dom. These guys rock, and you'd be relieved to know, they also rolled.
I'm so sure I've heard tracks from this album before, they've been said to be "louder than god" so maybe I just overheard someone else playing it sometime. The sound is so evocative of classic stoner movies, Dazed and Confused, and School of Rock, that I'm stunned it's not featured. While it's not my typical jam, it is pretty freakin' sick. It's giving Zeppelin, it's giving Deep Purple, it's giving Gibson SGs, leather jackets, black jeans, and hot hazy unclaimed summers full of potential.
The tracks are just freewheeling jammed out grooves on the chunkiest overdriven guitar and bass licks you've ever driven a decal'd van down the motorway to. I really can't shake the feeling I'm watching a cult classic movie the whole time I'm listening to it, and you also have the sense you're just smoking a cigarette in a dark dive bar while these guys just cook on stage. You know what? Just for that, I actually love it.
A classic, a true classic of my own vintage. Binding a classic rockers gift for iconic riffs, bristling guitar tones and pace that ranges from the Ramones to Led Zepplin, with lyrical sensibilities that range from the potently juvenile to the suprisingly mature and vocals in a league of their own. If I had to describe Jack White's voice, maybe somewhere between Neil Young and Brian Johnson.
Somehow they manage to squeeze in 16 tracks to this 40 minute record, and that just speaks to their economy of style. They never milk a simple hook for all its worth. And they sprinkle the instantly unforgettable tracks, like Fell In Love With A Girl (delerious and cathartic) and We're Gonna Be Friends (delightful and arcadian), among tracks that are more about the driven lick than a catchy vocal hook. Their styles and genre references are broad as deep south vampire rock, made for TVs True Blood (no not really) in I Can Learn to 60's Beatles changes in Now Mary. If it weren't for the cornerstone texture of Meg's bombasticly battered kit and Jack's double dialed up screaming vintage guitars and catscratch voice that somehow sounds overdriven too, which glues the whole grab bag together, it could have been an extremely fractured record. Instead it's an album with enormous range. It's no suprise it launched an enormous and legendary career. 5 stars.
This is an album that is so good, it's almost hard to write a review. If you've never heard anything from it before, yes you have. It's music that's so thoroughly percolated through western popular culture in the late 21st century that anyone with a passing interest in movies, television or music that isn't limited to the past couple of years will know a few songs from the record, and if they're anything like me, those songs will carry emotional weight and sensory memories that pull you straight out of your slipstream and up into the cognitive winds.
For any album to start with Bridge Over Troubled Water is, quite frankly, astonishing. It's an emotional tsunami for which you would expect at least half an hour of warning. If you're going to squeeze me till the tears come out at least let me know so I can go to the bathroom first. Even more impressive is how the record continues and doesn't feel anticlimactic. By all rights it should. But it's full of songs which continue to tower and glitter, Cecilia, Keep The Customer Satisfied, The Boxer, Baby Drive, The Only Living Boy In New York. Are you kidding me? All needle drops in some of the biggest movies of our time and times gone by.
Another reason it manages to bring us back from the edge safely is El Condor Pasa (If I Could) delicately manages to build up from nothing after the climax of Troubled Water, and delivers something reminiscent of their earlier hit Sound Of Silence. This helps wipe the slate and ease us into the idea of listening to some folk pop with Keep The Customer Satisfied throwing in a brass section. So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright is easily the most moving song you'll ever hear about an architect. The Boxer delivers Simon and Garfunkel at their finger pickiest, folk harmoniest, heights and the refrain of "lie-la-lie" manages to go from a soothing hum to a haunting chant over the course of the track with the impeccable and unexpected harmonic choices they make along the way.
Baby Driver is so iconic it got a film named after it. The Only Living Boy In New York so full of loneliness and contentment, yearning for self actualisation, and the bitter sweetness of the smallness of living in a big world drifting in introspection. The stand out lyric tugs at my soul every time I hear it, "half of time we're gone, but we don't know where, and we don't know where. Here I am." Don't ask me to explain it any further, just dry your eyes.
The funny thing is that "Why don't you write me?", which features a much more obviously painful subject matter, deals with it in such a silly way that you can't help but grin a little listening to it. Aside from that it's probably the least integral track of the record. It's followed by a fantastic live cover of the Everly Brother's "Bye Bye Love" which fits so easily with S&G's writing that you'd be forgiven for not noticing. It provides some more light relief, and doesn't force you ask any hard questions of yourself, just to smile through a heartbreak. This comes right before the closing track says farewell so delicately offering up the record with a gentle honesty that leaves you feeling like a dear friend just wrote you a letter, and offered to write you again, whenever you need.
Well well well, another album that a launches with it eponymous track. Also the most popular track from the record by orders of magnitude. It makes for a curious start, while I listen to the familiar organ laced sexy church bating pop banger, I look forward to the rest of the record with some trepidation. But it's Madonna, the queen of pop (has she been called that? it feels like she would have), I'm sure we're in good hands.
Listening to Express Yourself I'm struck by a couple of thoughts. Madonna is 80's music! I totally forgot that. The drums and bass and synth are all absolutely textbook, maybe because of this album? Who knows. Anyway you just know this would have slapped in Stranger Things season 2 in the mall. Come to think of it maybe thats where I've heard it before? No, I'm thinking of Material Girl which... (checks track list) is not on this album.
Well this shares a lot of the same DNA as Material Girl and works just fine.
At Love Song though, things get interesting. Prince lending guitar and vocals to the track, and recorded at Paisley Park, it's got his finger prints all over it. The vocal harmonies are super interesting, the slow groove is brave, it's peaked my interest significantly - although it is perhaps a little idiosyncratic to have the staying power of a hit.
Till Death Do Us Part is kind of good, but my favourite part, and I say this with the utmost respect, was the end which had an outro with some unconventional choices I rather liked. Cherish does a similar sort of thing in the mid-eight. I think it's basically that the extremely 80's and extremely persistent synth bass line thats in all the poppiest songs drops out and gives a bit of a change of texture for a minute. Cherish does have a hook that feels like I've known it my whole life. Chances are I probably have.
Dear Jessie again swings for a different texture and doesn't rely on the same sonic palette as the poppier tracks. But it is weird in a new and usual way. Blending something at once chamber orchestra and a Mexican flare of midi trumpets, it feels like she might have been reaching for something in the vein of the Beatles. One thing it does do well is queue up Oh Father, a satisfyingly Celine Dione-esque ballad. Spanish Eyes drops a genuinely hooky last hurrah which has a certain character and vibe to it. This is definitely later to be by borrowed by the band named after the orgasmotron wielding villain in Barberlla, Duran Duran, on their absolute banger Rio. So we may have this tune to thank for it (I'd wager a fiver on it).
Finally we reach the end, and the album closes out with An Act of Contrition. A prince guitar solo with a loop of reversed percussion and an effected choir singing over it. Easily the coolest idea of the record to be honest. The spoken word thing she's doing, the melodic ideas, the lack of cheese. I mean it's Prince through and through, even the drum kit has his prints on it. But it's fucking cool. If only more of the record was like this.
Sometimes you just know an album is going to be bloody good by the end of the first track. This is a record where you'll be convinced half way through, and at the peel of the hammond organ launching the second, you'll know you were Bloody Well Right. School has an audacious and excuting instrumental second half, and Bloody Well Right demonstrates not only Rick Davis' cynical, wry songwriting sensibility but also Roger Hogeson's prog guitar tone and talents.
You know what, it's basically a masterpiece, I'd need to listen to it a bunch more times to process it all. But the duel songwriting talents of Rick and Roger means there's no room to grow bored on the record. It has something theatrical and immersive about it especially obvious on School and Asylum which reminds me of Pink Floyd's The Wall. And alongside that it has Dreamer, which is a towering hit of a song, you hear it once and you never forget it. Rudy is also broad and captivating in a totally different way at 7 minutes 20 seconds run time. And If Everyone Was Listening and Crime Of The Century wrap up the show with pleading, hopeful magnetic musical exploration of ideas that pull you close and as you to ponder. Unbelievably good band and record, also the album cover is fucking cool. They honestly deserve more credit in the pantheon of 20th century rock.
Starting like a charging bull out the gates, Carry On careens through the first 2 minutes, guitar strings strumming like the blades of a helicopter. Then the arrangement breaks - the CSN&Y call out in unison, a call to arms, 'Carry on, love is coming, love is coming to us all.' It's magnificent. Part psychedelic rock, part folk rock, all talent.
Next up, Teach Your Children is a more traditional folk tune CSN style joint, fingerpicked and vocal harmony lead. Followed by Almost Cut My Hair, an audaciously visceral howl of guitar and vocal emotion that would be a climactic screeching needle drop in any movie set in the 60's or 70's, in fact I imagine it has been.
Helpless is a Neil Young lead number, and by gum, it really makes a difference having him backed up by the harmonies of the other boys. It's also a more cohesively structured song than you might be used to from Young and it really makes a difference to it's accessibility. He really shines here.
Deju Vu another psychedelic weird beauty of a song, lyrics about wondering whats underground and whatnot. Super cool, only to be followed by what I consider one of the most devastatingly beautiful songs ever written about domestic love. How "Our House" finds the beauty in the everyday, the flowers, the cats , the fireplace. It's poetry, it's unbelievably good. And it manages to milk tears from me every time they sing "life used to be so hard, now everything is easy cause of you". Anyone who has struggled through life, to find relief in the struggle because they found a partner to do it all with, will understand this song in their soul. This is a desert island disc for certain. And it's made even more magical knowing that it was written by Graham Nash about his and Joni Mitchells relationship in their little home in Laurel Canyon. Their early demo of this together is also heartbreakingly beautiful.
I won't go into further detail about the songs on the record, because they're all quite brilliant and I could explain why at length, but you're better off just putting it on and letting it have you. Enjoy!
First impressions? Musically tasty, lyrically a bit trite. So Far Away is very lyrically one note, we get it, you're tired of being so far away. Then Money For Nothing repeats the line "I want my mtv" for minute, it's enough to make you lose hope. But the underpinning instrumentals are so promising, and you don't have to wait long for it to pay off, because the Money For Nothing guitar lick kicks the door open and Mark Knopfler delivers the instantly iconic vocal, `thats the way to do it, get your money for nothing, and your chicks for free.` And you start to realise Dire Straits know what they're doing and where they're going, and you're being taken for a ride.
Admittedly Walk of Life is a bit more on the cheesy side, but once you're through it, Your Latest Trick delivers some really sexy vibes, a little reminiscent of The Blue Nile (who I love). This synth padded, not quite noir sound follows on with Why Worry, which is sort of city pastoral folk song. Very laid back, almost futuristic, honestly my main complaint is that I'm not listening to this at night, which it is undoubtedly made for. Like, if you're not walking through a neon lit, steamy street in an urban metropolis, I'm not sure you're listening to it right.
This album is actually laid back as fuck. The Blue Nile comparison fits much better than I expected across the whole record. The final track, Brothers In Arms is a gorgeous softly spoken ballad over a sparse atmospheric arrangement, and lands emotionally because of that delivery. It's really intimate and contemplative, almost like an Irish folk song. I liked this record a lot more than I expected to at the outset, will certainly be putting it on again, once the suns gone down.
Listening to Doggystyle as a person who's never paid attention to Snoop for his music before felt like being shown the archetypal blueprint for a whole era of music. Low rider beats, brash pornographic skits and empowering masc posturing that still hits a buzz so perfectly when you're strutting in the sun to it.
Before this listen I'd maybe heard pieces of it, and certainly its vibe, in GTA San Andreas. But as set dressing rather than something I could personally invest in. But this album is a bop. 10/10 would listen again.
London Calling, even if you haven't heard of it you've heard of it. It's in movies, TV shows, documentaries, set dressing and character exposition. The Clash is a name the echo's through the rock ages, in spite of which I can name the big hits on one hand. London Calling, and Should I Stay Or Should I Go, I Fought the Law, and Rock The Casbah. This is also all the songs of theirs I could name before this drive through London Calling. To have even one song with that level of cultural permeation is an insane achievement, but with *only* one of them on London Calling I was hoping to come away with a few more song names lodged in my brain. I'm afraid to say I will be needing to look them up at time of writing.
There is one exception to that, so I'll start there - Lost in the Supermarket surreptitiously caught me at a moment when my girlfriend disappeared into the isles of the store and I was stood there like a lemon, so when I clocked the lyrics that one got lodged in there forever. On top of which it's a real standout on the record. It's hooky, the guitar bass interplay is fresh, the beat leans on disco rhythms in a way that was destined to be become de rigueur in 00's indie and feels absolutely welcome here.
You know what - I'm going to listen to it again.
On my first play-through I just couldn't stop thinking about how it sounded like so many of my favourite indie bands from the 00's. The true forerunner of everything from grotrock to landfill indie. But that's not giving them enough credit. To be able to listen to an album released in 1979 and hear The Libertines and Babyshambles, in Jimmy Jazz, for example is wild. To be honest I'd make the same comparison with Hateful, the horse London holler that Joe Strummer delivers reminds me of nothing so much as Pete Doherty's drawl. It's so funny to see where he got it from! The whole vibe of chaotic stripped back production is bang on what they went for too. And the, presumably, slightly tongue in cheek reggae rhythm influences as well. It feels like the guitar riffs stuck around while the bass moved a little further away from source, e.g. Rudie Can't Fail and Revolution Rock feels almost like Jamaican dancehall / reggae cultural robbery.
Whats actually crazy though, is how spot on my ear is on this occasion, because my interest peaked, so I did a little reading. The Clash guitarist Mick Jones and producer actually helmed the first two Libertines albums. No wonder they share SO much DNA. God I'm a musical bloodhound, either that or this is the most blatant piece of musical lineage of the century and I'm acting like I just discovered America.
The takeaway here is that much like their prodigious progeny the Libertines et al, this record is a grower, not a shower. For all it's bravado, it requires a few listens to start really enjoying. When we've come a long way from some of the trends this record started, it can feel like you've heard all the songs a million times before as they've been copied and copied and copied. I even remarked that some of them sounded like it could have been a school bands first go at songwriting on some of these tracks. But that was only possible for school lads in 2005 because 26 years before, this lot had laid down an iconic blueprint that blazed a trail. And then they continued to nurture the seeds it spread even after they stopped playing as a band. It's sparked an interest and respect for the Clash in me that I had not previously understood or expected.
It might not be your cup of tea, but if you ever called yourself a fan of indie, in someways you've been listening to their music this whole time.
As soon as Baba O'Riley starts tumbling through your headphones, you know that it would take a serious fucking calamity to derail this record from a five star, ten out of ten, slam dunk of a review. I'm going to give a special shout out to Bargain, Love Ain't For Keeping, The Song Is Over, Going Mobile and Won't Get Fooled Again. Very selective I know, shouting out basically the entire album. I'll explain why in a second.
One of the best sensations in the world is flying down a clear street with the wind in your hair, sun on your face. Maybe rivalled closely by the same experience but bombing down the side of a snowy mountain on ski's. But 20mph on a bike in London is a bit closer to home and one of life's exquisite pleasures. While I'm sure this record was written with of a convertible sports car dream in mind, the way it feels to me is like nothing more than urban freewheeling on a sunny day. Which is all to say, this record is exquisite, from start to finish.
One thing about this record is that it feels totally mental that it was recorded in 1969. Sure, it's the modern archetype of bluesy stadium rock and roll, but their are qualities to the sound that listening to other music from the same era, you might be forgiven for assuming they struggled to achieve at the time. Which I guess tells you that even then, much of the "this was recorded on a potato and thats why it sounds so good" was an aesthetic choice / excuse.
The other thing about this record, obviously, is that it is by The freaking Rolling Stones. It'd be pretty damn hard not to enjoy it. Plus it takes two of the best songs ever recorded, which I do not say lightly, and bookends the whole thing with them. Starting with Gimme Shelter (wow, obviously) and ending with You Can't Always Get What You Want. They're both masterstrokes of adding the right voices and textures to numbers that were already incredible. They didn't just rock out on Gimme Shelter, they pulled a backing singer from her bed and got her to lay down one of the most iconic vocal takes ever in her pyjamas and rollers. Tragically Merry Clayton was also pregnant when she performed this and miscarried when she returned home, which she attributed to the vocal strain of the performance. A devastating faustian exchange that leaves a pit in my stomach, responsible for one of the most electrifying performances of the century, as my mother would say - it doesn't bare thinking about.
You Can't Always Get What You Want, on the the other hand, utilised a choice of freaking angels (presumably). It's a song where it feels like it always existed, because how could it not have? You can't always get what you want, and how else could humanity have expressed that clearly without this song? I won't go into too much detail, but Hank Moody in Californication being blown by a nun in a confession booth as this track made my soul ache, in a good way. It also bookends the main story of that show at the end of season 4, and by GOD it got me there too. It's the central premise of the show, and if it's not too trite (I already know I'll regret writing this), maybe it's the closest the west has come to a cohesive philosophy in the last 50 years.
The rest of the album is also presumably amazing, but it's just not in quite the same way. There's vulnerable stripped back numbers, there are jam tracks, there are great vibes, there's even another absolutely iconic number sandwiched right in the middle in Let It Bleed. But honestly they're just dwarfed by the first and last tracks. So in spite of that it's a 5 star album, because you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you just might find you get what you need.
Kind of cool, but also kind of tone deaf? Which I mean literally, I'm not sure the singer can hear tones. It's frenetic and exciting in a way which I think requires an attentive ear to the lyrics to properly appreciate, which I'm maybe not giving it. There are some pretty cool grooves and riffs in here. The slightly detuned, twangy guitar feel reminds me of early Metronomy. Having said that, I'm really struggling to listen to it, by which I mean it also has some of the less fun qualities of nails on a chalkboard.
Solomon Burke, dubbed the Bishop of Soul - because he was a preacher as well as a majestic soul man - is a pleasure to listen to. The pipes are immaculate, the songs are great. They've all got titles I recognise but aren't the songs I expect, so listening through the record is a box of surprises when I expected familiarity. But you can hear the influence these kinds of songs had on the pop and rock of the 60s, 70s and 80s. Really foundational stuff. If "He'll Have To Go" doesn't tickle sonic memories of 'Hooked On A Feeling', released 10 years later, then your Spidey senses need tuning.
It's gorgeous stuff, that I feel would benefit from familiarity for me to get the most from it. Perhaps on a slow drive, or somewhere I can sing a long, maybe a dinner party - or even, Fallout style, while exploring the wasteland. I want time alone to inhabit these songs and to know every word before it comes. Lovely stuff.
Massive Attack is a name that commands respect, but until now it's been for a few tracks that I knew as monuments in a landscape of 90's trip-hop. Safe From Harm the opening track brings to mind the sound of the iconic soundtrack to GoldenEye on the N64. Soundtrack to the youth of every British boy born in the early 90's. The other way I'd describe it would be `not out of place in a triple X movie`. And that isn't a slam, it's a vibe.
Some of the choices made in this record are really interesting, I mean One Love is an insanely slow jam with a very weird atmosphere, I think if I'd have made it, I'd have left it on the drawing board, because I'd have been wondering in what situation someone would want to listen to it, and I don't know if I could have pictured one. But the sluggish, hazy hotbox of a texture actually makes sense when I scan back to the teenagers i knew as a kid in the 90's. Rooms seemingly with no sunlight, walls painted black, plastered with posters, a million VHS cassettes, magazines, a games console and if they were real legends, ashtray and cigarettes.
I won't try and tie up that tangent of the imagined audience to this record. It's got enormous longevity and breadth. Be Thankful For What You've Got is an incredible jam that floats along with an incredible sample for the 1972 DeVaughn original granting it what so far looks like immortality. The other standout of course is Unfinished Sympathy, again bringing that kind of GoldenEye texture. Cinematic, full of tension, trip hop royalty - a forerunner to tracks like the This Bitter Earth - Dinah Washington & Max Richter collaboration. This track screams 5 star album, but I have to remind myself that there are records out there where every track is this good. So, after all these years, Blue Lines is getting a respectable 4 stars from me.
We live in a beautiful world, yeah we do, but we lost something truly special as Chris Martin tried and failed to mature as a musician. Oh how I miss the band Coldplay once was. The absolute mastery of naughties yearning, every single song on this album is top of it's class for experiencing your life as a personal anguished unrequited love montage. Even now, the strains of Shiver are literally yanking at my heartstrings like I've been pining after the girl of my dreams but she just doesn't know I exist.
The album is full of songs that are the equivalent of musical valium. The bass line of Sparks for example brings to mind nothing more that being half asleep on a sunny afternoon. It's delicate and complex, like all the songs on this record, the chord progressions are genuinely delicious. How the writer of this album is responsible for 'A Headful of Dreams' or even the album art on it for that matter, is one of the great mysteries of the 21st century. There is literally not a song on the album that doesn't deserve to be called out by name, but I think Yellow deserves special mention for probably being the single that even people who never got the CD would know inside out. I have to believe its written into the DNA of all brits born before the year 2000. Which to be fair is getting on a bit. Anyway, it's a 5 star album, there isn't a bad song on it, not even a filler track really - and the final song Everything's Not Lost even pulls you up out of your lovelorn malaise so tenderly you might actually tearfully believe it's central refrain.
Cool guitars, cool muffled, buried vocals, a drum part that sounds like it might be a drum machine. The first song is sick. With some gorgeous guitar textures switching it up after the first chorus, and the introduction of Kim Gordons vocals. I know I'll enjoy the record because I can already hear it's influences in bands I know and love. The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart, The Cribs, Blood Red Shoes.
It's punk, it's shoegaze, it's rock and roll. It's cool in the way the bands in Scott Pilgrim Vs The World are cool. Listening to it you get the impression it's made by slackers who take only one thing seriously - this music. On the other hand, it does continue to prioritise being cool as fuck over trying too hard to be super fun to listen to, and after a while it's easy for that quality to wear a little thin. It's fucking brave, it's fucking interesting, it's not that fun to listen to after a while. A bit like a video installation in a gallery, maybe it's goal was never to be engaging to consume, but to be kind of hard work.
The Velvet Underground, avant guard in the extreme. I thought I'd like it more. I tried listening to it sat working, I tried listening to it out walking, commuting, shopping. Perhaps it's an album that can only be appreciated when doing literally nothing else, but my generosity towards it has been spent and I'm moving on. It's best understood as theatre I think, it's certainly not pop music in any traditional sense. I remember seeing Kieren Culkin doing a tribute band called the Pizza Underground in the naughties and thinking it was a hilarious if talentless bit. Now I realise the parody was more accurate than I could ever have known, I just didn't have the context of this album, a collection of sprawling, hypnotic, tuneless yarns told over the same few chords chugged out for 17 minutes. I think it's safe to say, it was a one time experience, and I can't recommend it.
