1001 Albums Summary

Well, this list is off to a fun start! I haven't thought much of Metallica since my peak classic rock years as a teenager, and even then I only liked Metallica's singers. I tend to believe that people whose favourite band is Metallica are either 13 or 45 - either they've just gotten into harder-edged music or they were around for their peak years. For me, this is too catch-all as metal music to really pique my interest. Despite the thrash-metal underpinning, this album is already trending in a more accessible, generic "heavy metal" format in the vein of Judas Priest around this same era, but while Priest made the heaviest album of their careers by the dawn of the new decade, Metallica had firmly veered in a more commercial direction. Master of Puppets is their definitive statement because it's situated right at the intersection of their genuine thrash roots and the heavy rock direction they would take from the 1991 self-titled onward. This album is carried by Hammett's soloing, which take up the bulk of the runtime. Most of it is surprisingly transient as there isn't enough substance to make these songs into favourites without repeat listens. Overall, a fine first album to give me, but I wish there was something more to grab onto. Key Tracks: Master of Puppets, Welcome Home (Sanitarium,) Disposable Heroes, Orion

"Play this solo as if your mama just died." Those were apparently the instructions provided to create the now-iconic solo in the opening title track. The rest of the songs are not far behind that absolute titan of psychedelic soul, though, of course, none ever reach that height. Funkadelic really displayed their interplay on the rest of the songs, like on "You and Your Folks..." and the closer "Wars of Armageddon." This is definitely an influential piece but, with all of the acts that clearly aped it in the years that followed, Maggot Brain has sort of worn thin, and a listener might come in thinking they've heard all of this before. This one is best listened to while the listener divorces themselves from all the subsequent influences. Taking this album on its own, at face value, is the best way to listen to it to appreciate what it did for funk. Key Tracks (besides the title:) Hit It and Quit It, You and Your Folks Me and My Folks, Super Stupid

The greatest cure to insomnia besides golf on TV. If only this album could inject the tiniest smidgen of energy into it, and I might not have been so disappointed. For all the talk of its weird time signatures, they might as well have played everything in 4/4. In modern times, this would be on a click and snapped directly on the grid. It doesn't matter if they're in 3/4, 5/4, 9/8, or 17/8, this is all cocktail lounge, elevator jazz music to my ears. Barely a step above those Various Artists easy listening compilation records they sold millions of back in the 70s. Virtually every song except the iconic "Take Five" blur into the background, and even the solo sections don't save many of the songs from being a total bore. When Colonel Sanders was still visiting KFC locations after they were sold to private equity, he called the gravy "wallpaper paste," which I feel is a pretty apt descriptor for this album. Key Tracks: Take Five, Pick Up Sticks

A very serviceable rootsy rock record from the era of that subgenre's peak. The Band are best known for "The Last Waltz" and their association with Bob Dylan, so it's not surprising to see an album of theirs was included. I was always of the opinion that Big Pink was their best one, but this has some of their biggest songs ("Across the Great Divide," "King Harvest," "Jawbone.") I can't really find too many overly descriptive quips about this album because it's played so straightforward and with so few pretensions that a listener just doesn't have much to say about it by the time it's over. It's the physical embodiment of stereotypical 60s rock. This is the blueprint for all of folksy, bluesy rock to follow in the decades since. Key Tracks: Across the Great Divide, Rag Mama Rag, Jawbone, King Harvest (Has Surely Come Again)

One of the lesser-known Stevie Wonder albums from his classic period, Fulfillingness is more proof that the music was just pouring out of Stevie Wonder in the 1970s. It's a pretty eclectic album, full of powerful funk grooves and some more dour ballads, all topped off with Stevie's signature jazz-influenced modulations and (usually) tasteful soloing. This one does noodle around more than the others though as the pure pop of the previous 2 albums - Talking Book and Innervisions - is forgone in exchange for a more "musical" album. Stevie would create the perfect hybrid of the 2 on Songs in the Key of Life, but this album is the perfect bridge between the 2 very distinct sounds that defined his career. Key Tracks: Heaven Is 10 Zillion Light Years Away, Boogie on Reggae Woman, You Haven't Done Nothin', Please Don't Go

This album's title was honestly my reaction to this album. The most hyped band of the 2000s kicked off the new millennium with this apparently unmissable debut. Going into this album, I had only ever heard "Reptilia" from their catalogue and thought it was a fine little piece of rough-and-ready garage rock. A full album of it was a harder sell. I mean, the entire middle section uses the same chords and the same structure, so there's a fair chunk of this album where songs are utterly indistinguishable. Julian Casablancas also hasn't found his voice yet, so he sounds unsure of his limits and of the best way to go about each song. Some might find it endearing for its apparent artistic spirit and dedication to the rock and roll spirit, but one look at the band's aesthetic says otherwise. Make no mistake, the Strokes were groomed to sound imperfect, and they were deliberately made to be unpolished, but attractive and marketable enough to sell millions. And they did! The first big band of the new millennium that couldn't have had a hit in the 90s. The press also bought this album hook, line and sinker, despite it not having enough substance to justify the hype. Not in my opinion anyway. All in all, this is a perfectly acceptable piece of commercial garage rock promoted as something bigger when it wasn't. You might like it for its simplicity, so listen for what you can find.

Miles Davis was a hard one for me. I always found his playing too perfect, too structured, too put-together. It was as if he has spent agonizing hours in the studio buffing out every wrinkle of his playing, cleaning it up as much as possible. That aspect of Davis isn't nearly as perceptible on In a Silent Way as it is on something like Kind of Blue, which I have no doubt is also included on this list. Composed of 2 lengthy, side-long suites (take that prog rockers, the jazz cats beat you to the punch!) In a Silent Way presents a variety of moods and changes as they develop incrementally across their 20-plus minute runtimes. My personal favourite of the 2 is the A-side "Shh/Peaceful" for its lengthy buildup and the heavy organ presence. It has a very live feel, as though the individual musicians are on guard to find the next direction to take the song into. It's a far contrast from most of the Davis catalogue I've listened to so far. The title suite on the B-side is no slouch either, with its sense of dynamism more pronounced than on the opposite side of the record. It's a more patient song too, giving the listener a quiet moment of reflection as it resolves in its final minutes I enjoyed this album quite a lot: it's definitely more adventurous than most of Davis' work, and the wide contrast of genres really made it feel like a jazz symphony in multiple movements. A great album to recommend to someone already somewhat versed in jazz, but it might not be the best entry point.

Though the album title translates to "A Good Beginning," this was actually Sigur Ros' second album. Their debut, Von, released only in their native Iceland and sold only a few hundred copies, but this debut/sophomore hybrid launched the slow-motion movie score rockers into the cosmos where they apparently came from. From the instrumental intro to the sonar beeps of lead single and post-rock lullaby "Svefn-g-englar," Agaetis byrjun seems completely invested in submerging the listener in the sea of stars, auroras and humming mountains that inform their grandiose sound. The distinct instrument here is frontman Jonsi's bowed guitar. Though he wasn't the first to do it, I can't think of anyone who can get more out of a single bowed wash of half-speed chords than him. The rest of the instrumentation - dramatic strings, pianos, slide guitars, and even the occasional brass - fill out the rest of the indie-darling orchestra that seemed to automatically generate high review scores back in 1999. A listener might dismiss a lot of this as dreamy and banal hospital-drama music, especially on a song like "Staraflur," but the beauty of the songs lies in their deceptive simplicity. This is just plain alt rock done in slow motion, deliberately slowed to a crawl to make you feel every motion. And nowhere is it more effective than on tracks like "Viðrar vel til loftárása," which makes the listener wait 7 minutes for the massive swirling climax. Easily the emotional high point of the album, it never fails to make me tear up. There was this one time I couldn't sleep no matter what, and I put on this album. In that sleep-deprived state, I managed to catch the ending of "Loftarasa" just as the sun was coming up: far and away one of the most poignant musical moments of my life. Kind of hard to give an album associated with a moment like that one anything less than a perfect score. Key Tracks: Svefn-g-englar, Flugufrelsarinn, Viðrar vel til loftárása, Olsen olsen

How in the hell did an album like this get on here? The band name is deceptive: you won't find anything remotely bluesy here (aside from rock's own blues influence of course.) Instead, you'll be met with an explosion of bizarre, experimental garage(?) rock that sound like it's on the brink of falling apart. Most of the lyrics are inscrutable and indecipherable. The singer mostly rambles on about sex, drugs, and rock and roll in a very sardonic, IDGAF sort of tone. He sounds like he cares for neither the musical structure itself nor for the subject matter he's been told to sing about. Songs mostly struggle to stay together and a few are just barely carried to a 3-minute runtime, almost as though the album itself was exploded and was put back together by the band when they found what was left. I must say that's quite impressive to do with audio as the only medium. This is definitely among the most unique albums on this list, though it doesn't necessarily mean this is among the best. It also impresses me with its runtime, as the album never wears out its welcome despite its many shifts in tempo and its 16-song tracklist, normally hallmarks of a bloated, overlong album. You can find better punk rock, better garage rock, better industrial, and better experimental elsewhere, but I really doubt that you can find them all in one place as they are on this album. Key Tracks: Wail, Dynamite Lover, Firefly Child, R.L. Got Soul

Apparently there are several more Steely Dan albums waiting for me on this list. I never could get into them, mostly for how they seamlessly blended the 2 most irritating tropes of the 70s and early 80s pop scene - languid adult contemporary melodies and cool, smooth jazz. The result is an overly preppy, self-centered sound that reminds me of sleazy businessmen and plain ordinary suburbanites. Of course, the Dan has a couple of songs I like here and there, but they're on Can't Buy a Thrill and Aja. This one, at a crossroads between those 2 albums - one came before and the other after - Steely Dan can't quite seem to consolidate their sound, and though songs like the title track and "Charlie Freak" show some promise, the rest is too middle-of-the-road to be memorable. I think the previous 2 albums could definitely be included on this list (and I have no doubt they will be) but I'm not sure why they would include this one as well and not something with a better critical assessment, like Gaucho or Royal Scam. I'm also not sure why certain artists like these guys, Costello, Dylan or even Bowie need to have this many releases represented... Key Tracks: Night by Night, East St. Louis Toodle-Oo, Charlie Freak

Far and away the greatest of the true old-school hip hop releases, Low End Theory is considered to be Tribe's crowning achievement. While I personally prefer Midnight Marauders over this one, mostly for its more direct beats and better production, this album is certainly a strong contender as well. There's a lot on this album that hadn't been done before (invoking a live performance-based sound, for instance) and several songs just haven't been equalled quite yet, even 35 years after the album's original release ("Excursions, "Check the Rime.") Definitely the best entry point into the discography of A Tribe Called Quest, one of the only rap groups to have the elite honour of no misses in their entire catalogue, and one of the only groups whose individual rappers are immediately distinguishable. An absolute high point of old-school hip hop, and one of the sparing few documents of a truly united rap scene. This album and its followup capture the end of a unified hip hop sound as regional divisions split it just a few more years into the new decade. In short, The Low End Theory captures hip hop between generations - moving away from the early beginnings and the oldest old schools into the new, more refined and adventurous rap to come. Key Tracks: Excursions, Show Business, Everything is Fair, Jazz (We've Got,) Scenario

Of the first 4 self-titled Led Zeppelin albums (sort of; the 4th one is always a subject of debate) this one is probably the most ignored. It's the folkiest and the most psychedelic of the bunch, that's for sure, so many fans who expected the driving, air-raid siren rock that defined the previous 2 (and almost the 4th one too) were in for a surprise. Recorded in the English countryside, you can definitely hear the pastoral influence of their environment on these songs. There's shockingly few rockers here outside of "Immigrant Song," easily the most famous tune to come off of this album. That gives Robert Plant the breathing room to showcase how versatile he really was. It's on songs like "Friends" and "That's the Way" that Plant proves there was more to him than the macho gesturing and the tornado warning siren of the debut and sophmore albums. Besides that, the instrumental palette is also much more varied, giving the listener acoustic guitars, strings and even the occasional flute, all without forgetting the classic Zeppelin hallmarks of a blues ballad ("Since I've Been Lovin' You" - easily one of Plant's best performances) and the closer "Hats off to (Roy) Harper," which covers a song by the criminally underrated Bukka White. This is certainly the most unconventional of the classic Zeppelin albums, but it's no less effective at adding another layer to the myth they had already established early in the decade. Key Tracks: Immigrant Song, Friends, Since I've Been Lovin' You, That's the Way

For how safe and commercial Adele's sound is and was, there sure is a distinct lack of anything that remotely sounds like her. I can't really explain it, but Adele sounds familiar yet foreign, like you've never heard her music before but could easily sing along to every song. I think it's her heavy reliance on more traditional, pre-1960s pop: not quite modern, not quite traditional. Despite all that, there's something distinctly modern about the huge, squeaky clean production that puts Adele front and center on every track, and there's something even more modern about the contemporary R&B and rock influences that pop in here and there. All in all, this is a solid modern soul album, and the 2 monster singles that bookend this album also made 21 a smash hit: "Rolling in the Deep" STILL gets regular airplay even 15 years after its release! That's probably due to its utter timelessness - truly a song that could have come out in practically any era. The deep cuts aren't really much to write home about, and 21 is very much an album that put about 70% of its energy into its singles. There's one album track that caught my attention, "I'll Be Waiting." I swear it sounds like a 90s Britpop song, and if Suede or Blur had done it, it would be seen as an unsung classic in their catalogue. Otherwise, the non-singles start to blend into each other as they're quite samey and meandering, which definitely knocks this album down by a peg. The big, BIG songs though? Those are utterly inescapable, and for good reason. Key Tracks: Rolling in the Deep, Rumour Has It, Set Fire to the Rain, I'll Be Waiting

One of the first signs that Springsteen had more to him than the all-American hero thing going for him. This is an album that delves into workers' struggles, getting out of small-town America for better opportunities, and long-lost love. Hardly a feel-good piece if you ask me. Springsteen had started mastering the art of dynamics and tension-release around the time of this album, and it's apparent on songs like the closing title track, "Candy's Room," and the short-but-poignant "Factory." I can't say I enjoy most of this as it's still very plain to my ears and the songs aren't quite fully formed this early in The Boss' career, but it's definitely a promising sign of things to come. This is an album that documents the small-town America the tourist agencies will never show, and it must have been an incredibly jarring release to follow up one of the most uplifting albums of his career. Key Tracks: Candy's Room, Factory, Streets of Fire

An album of spirited worldbeat offerings. The listener is immediately greeted with those loud melismatic vocal performances that instantly identify this kind of thing. It starts at mid-tempo before picking up in rhythm, and there's a few quite interesting moments where some African polyrhythms try to shine through and groove into something genuinely interesting. Sadly, this album suffers from that incredibly dated early 90s production style of substituting real instruments with artificial MIDI sounds, which is absolutely the opposite direction to go if you're trying to make this an authentic introduction to West African music. I can only imagine it was done to make the material more "accessible" to the new-age/world audiences of the West. These songs would have probably benefited IMMENSELY if they were just allowed to shine by being played completely live, without studio enhancements. For what we get on a final result, you could do much worse than a commercialized West African folk album, though I'm still not sure why this is considered essential listening...

The album that transitioned Tom Waits out of the drunk piano jazz blues of his early years and brought him into the middle period of his career. Heartattack and Vine definitely has one foot on either side of the border, as the blown out guitars that appear in the opener are sat right next to the boozy piano ballads that made Tom Waits a name to watch a decade prior. "Saving All My Love for You" is the absolute saddest Christmas song I've ever heard someone write, regardless of whether it's about Christmas or not. "Downtown" has a spy movie feel that later Waits never revisited, and "Jersey Girl" - probably the best-known song from this album, has the most bitter la-la-las ever committed to tape. Waits is enraged, overjoyed and despondent all at once. This album feels like the last time Waits was ever fully put together, with all screws in place, as his later 80s output only got more unhinged before going completely off the rails in the 90s. Definitely a highlight of his catalogue and an excellent transition album that works equally well as a standalone release. Key Tracks: Saving All My Love for You, Jersey Girl, Mr. Siegal

In my estimation, this is squarely in the middle of the pack in the pre-Rubber Soul Beatles catalogue. They were still in their "boy band" phase at this time, but you can tell the Fab Four are desperate to burst out of that mold and do something bigger and better than the tepid, beige material they chose here. There's a few classic rock and roll covers to pad out the tracklist, with all of the performances being perfectly serviceable, but the rest of the songs sort of sound identical to one another, with only the vocal melodies and lyrics being swapped out. There isn't anything here to really make this one stand out, and I doubt it would be included on this list if not for the name attached to the title.

I had heard of Farka Touré's previous album, The Source, several years ago and was thoroughly impressed with how similar his fingerpicked style was to the American blues. I guess The Source was his "breakthrough" album, because here the Malian guitar great teams up with world-travelled guitarist Ry Cooder for a similar collection of weathered, sun-beat jams. This is definitely a very laid-back, relaxed atmosphere dominated by the guitar interplay and complemented by occasional interjections from what sounds like an African kora harp and/or a violin of some sort. Despite collaborating with a Western musician, I don't feel there's anything really "Westernized" on this album; everything seems to be played exactly as it should be, with all resemblances to other genres like the blues being coincidental. The music here seems tailor-made for typically "exotic" experiences like open-air markets, late-night firelit slow dances, and desert adventures. And yet, nothing feels overly commercial or cloying. I appreciate how well Cooder's inclusion balances these things out. It goes without saying, that Farka Touré - dubbed the African John Lee Hooker by the Western press - is the main attraction here, as the Malian desert blues, apparently called Tishoumaren, really doesn't sound like much anything else out there. This is, in my estimation, the album that paved the way for similarly faraway acts like Tinariwen or Mdou Moctar to find an audience in the West, and I think we all benefit from that sort of cultural intersharing. Key Tracks: Bonde, Lasidan, Keito, Diaraby

Queen's 4th album is their biggest, most overblown, most bombastic, and all-around greatest statement. This is an album that throws everything and the kitchen sink at you and makes sure everything leaves an impression. Where else will you find an album that balances glam, prog, hard rock, symphonies, folk and music hall in equal measure? There's more ideas included on Night at the Opera than some bands have in their entire discographies. For a band I never thought of much outside of the hit singles, the deep cuts are just as solid as those massive hits. Normally, I'd dismiss the music hall interludes as cheap joke songs that pad the runtime, but some of them are genuinely kind of funny and/or endearing to help them go down easier. They also transition perfectly between hard rock songs - listen to the first 3 songs on the A-side to see how the 2 rock songs essentially form a suite when connected with "Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon." It's the most British thing committed to tape on a rock album since the Kinks made their Britishness their entire M.O. The main event of A Night at the Opera is, of course, Bohemian Rhapsody. An utter anomaly of a song, it's a 6-minute progressive suite with no chorus and lyrics that haven't yet been cracked even a half-century later. No other song has make regular, ordinary people sing about Scaramouche after all. My dad will forever refer to this song as "Bismillah" since he never bothered to learn the actual title. While the 2018 biopic somewhat exaggerated this song's legacy, it cannot be argued that this is an utter titan of popular culture, and I wouldn't be opposed to putting it on a new Voyager record if they ever made another. My favourite of the long songs on this album though is "The Prophet's Song" that opens the B-side. It's another epic, multi-part piece whose only crime was coming late to the prog rock game - the genre would start making its exit just a few years later as the 70s became the 80s. It brings the same elements to the table as Bohemian Rhapsody, but ratchets up the massive multi-part harmonies and searing guitar solos. It's the most underrated song in Queen's catalogue and it would be the centerpiece of literally any other album. Overall, this album remains an absolute gem of 70s rock as it explores virtually every facet of the genre as they existed in its era. A true classic in every sense of the word. Key Tracks: Death on Two Legs, You're My Best Friend, The Prophet's Song, Bohemian Rhapsody

One of only a small handful of releases that can confidently claim to have pushed rock music forward, King Crimson's now-iconic debut shows a band fully confident in the direction it was heading. This album feels like it was made in a vacuum; there's very little of the blues stomping that gave rock and roll its rhythm, nor is there much of the folk and gospel stylings that influenced how the genre would be sung. Instead, King Crimson turned to jazz, medieval folk, and classical music to form a rock album that sounds like it came from another timeline entirely. The heavy use of mellotron substitutes a string section here, but despite how aged and analogue the instrument itself sounds, nothing on this album shows signs of being recorded over half a century ago. It's unlikely anyone would confuse it for a modern release though, as there's a distinctly out-of-time feeling to how these songs are written and structured. Look no further than the soft ballad "I Talk to the Wind" or the grand, sweeping closer, "The Court of the Crimson King," which both sound like musical antiques, albeit incredibly well-preserved. Of course, the main item that drew me into this album years ago was the proto-metal skronk of "21st Century Schizoid Man," which could have come out any time after its release date and still sounded fresh. "Epitaph" is an absolutely wonderful, sweeping ballad, anchored together by the emotive performance of the late great Greg Lake. It's power ballads before the concept even existed. The only other song here is the 12-minute noodling session that is "Moonchild." Much has been made about the aimless free improv that follows the 2 minutes of pure balladry that starts the song. I can't say it's something I revisit very often, and it honestly drags the album down a lot since all the momentum it builds up is ground to a halt. At least the closer more than makes up for it. In the Court is a visual album almost as much as it is a musical one. The fact that this album cover is such a common sight when looking through the shelves of record collectors is basically a meme at this point, but that album art of a screaming red face is strangely evocative. I've always thought it to be some kind of humanoid whose creator just gifted with sentience, only for the creature to realize all the horrors that exist in the world. It's kind of a metaphor for where rock music was in 1969 as the genre went from a naive, good-times genre in the 50s to a much more mature, socially conscious beast by the end of the 60s, thanks in no small part to innovative releases like these. Key Tracks: 21st Century Schizoid Man, Epitaph, The Court of the Crimson King

The dreamiest dream pop that ever dreamed.. Hazy shuffles and swirling pastel landscapes make up the bulk of this album, now seen as a crown jewel of the pillowy soft dream pop movement. Of course, Cocteau Twins always felt a step ahead of their contemporaries as they started off in the early 80s as a gothic pop group recording in empty caves before turning over an optimistic new leaf by the end of the decade. This is the culmination of those efforts. Despite dream pop's reputation as a soft unobtrusive style of mood music, Heaven or Las Vegas is surprisingly direct: this one is a lot more bass-heavy than their previous releases, and the persistent keyboard plinking lend a mechanical feel that seemingly heralded the arrival of trip hop a few years later. Appropriately so, since nonsense singing extraordinaire Liz Fraser did end up involved in trip hop (that's her singing on Massive Attack's "Teardrop," "Black Milk," and "Group Four," all off of one of my all-time favourites, Mezzanine.) Apparently, Fraser sang actual lyrics for virtually her entire career with Cocteau Twins, but was so embarrassed by how clunky they were that she had them drenched in reverb until they were no longer decipherable. That's still evidently the case here, and it allows her sonorous, crystalline soprano to join in the instrumental haze and disappear into the music itself in a style not unlike shoegaze. The album itself is a little frontloaded, to be sure, but those first 5 songs are more than worth the price of admission and are a major reason this album has a guaranteed spot among the pop album canon. Head over Heels might be my favourite Cocteau Twins album, but this one is more than likely turning into a close second for me. Key Tracks: Cherry-Coloured Funk, Pitch the Baby, Heaven or Las Vegas, Frou-Frou Foxes in Midsummer Fires

I'm very surprised that something this ordinary, this mundane, would appear on a list of apparently unmissable albums. To my ears, this is perfectly serviceable 60s pop, played stone-cold sober and completely straight. Was there something exceptional in the lore of Paul Revere and the Raiders that warrants their inclusion here? While it might not be the most thrilling album to listen to, with its sound so squarely stuck in the mid-60s, this is a surprisingly eclectic release that veers between beat music, surfy garage rock, R&B and pure pop. It's also shockingly well-produced for its time, so it doesn't suffer from the same under-production as even the better albums of the 60s did at the time. There just isn't much in the way of standout, memorable songs on this thing. Everything is played well, every song comes and goes without leaving much of an impression. It's 60s pop rock in a paint-by-numbers format.

The progenitors of all things psychedelic soul, Sly and the Family Stone were a pretty radical proposition in their day. After all, they were a mixed-gender, fully integrated band operating at a time where both concepts were incredibly new and almost totally foreign to broader audiences. This was the 5th album released by the group, and it's in this moment where all things Sly and the Family Stone come together. Phased-out funk guitars are plentiful on this release, as are the slinking, mobile basslines that form the rhythm pocket. For being as big of a personality as he was, Sly Stone almost appears to be in short supply on this album, as many of the voices heard on these songs are not his. Often times, his voice is simply one among many, like on "Family Affair," the best-known song to come from this album. That song also clears one of the hardest hurdles in popular music: being mellow while also having a genuine pulse. Dancey yet soothing all at once. A song perhaps contradicting itself, but it just...works. The band's ethos in one song. And it's not the only song like that, as the atmosphere of genuine togetherness is in full form on songs like "The Asphalt Jungle," "Time" and the extended closer "Thank You for Talkin' to Me, Africa." The self-referential lyrics on that last one are a sort of reminder of where the band had been before - and, if Stone's own issues didn't swallow up the entire project - where it would potentially go next. None of the songs overstay their welcome no matter how smooth and mellow they are or how many minutes they play for. Truly an all-killer, no-filler release from psychedelia's peak years. Key Tracks: Luv 'N' Haight, Family Affair, Time "Thank You For Talkin' to Me Africa

Surprisingly ferocious for its time, the half-live, half-studio release from Big Brother famously features the oft-imitated never duplicated Janis Joplin as its frontwoman. Joplin was known as a loud, gravelly wailer throughout her all-too-brief career, but she really shows her understated sense of dynamics and phrasing on the live half of this release. Check "I Need a Man to Love" as the prime example of her innate talent as a singer-interpreter. Joplin was also known for her ability to triumph musically despite her voice's own imperfections: the coarse falsettos that pop up here and there recall Marge Simpson to my ears. Other than that, this is a surprisingly cutting-edge late 60s rock album that draws from the blues, the emerging hard rock sound, and psychedelia to give a succinct, yet comprehensive picture of the bigger, louder side of rock in this era. There's even a straight-up 12 bar blues piece on here in "Turtle Blues," a song that could easily pass for being 20 to 30 years older than it really is just based on how it was recorded and performed. There's even of latent prog rock flashes on songs like "Oh, Sweet Mary" with its complicated intro riff and structure that moves from a capella harmonies to noisy freak-outs. The louder moments are actually quite Stooges-esque, as heard on both the fiery A-side opener "Combination of the Two" and the excellent "Ball and Chain," which sounds deceptively doctored despite being recorded live...! Truly a monumental release of its era and a must-hear for any exploration of late 60s heavy psychedelia. Key Tracks: I Need a Man to Love, Piece of My Heart, Oh, Sweet Mary, Ball and Chain

Halcyon Digest was the album that dropped right at the crossroads of psychedelia's next evolutionary step. Moving the genre out of the 2000s and into the next hazy, reverb-coated decade, this album perfectly balances swirling ambient passages with genuine indie pop tunes. While its oft-imitated sonic palette might open the album to comparisons to the ubiquitous jangle pop that surrounded it at the time, Halcyon Digest separates itself by its air of what I can only describe as menace. At some points, namely on the listless drift of "Sailing," I felt like something terrible was about to happen (I guess musically, it would mean some loud wash of noise.) It never came, but that hint of gothic evil really made the album stick with me. The album doesn't hesitate to move in more conventional directions before throwing the listener off. Take "Desire Lines," one of the definite highlights, which starts off as a rather plain indie rock song before veering off into an extended solo section that makes all previous pop connotations disappear. My favourite pair of songs are what I consider counterparts: the first song, "Earthquake," and "Helicopter," heard much later on. Both start and build more or less identically, with some electronic element for a rhythm that gives into a wash of shoegazey guitar. "Earthquake" in particular sounds like being caught in a jet engine as its whirring chords grow louder. "Helicopter" opts to add an ever-increasing number of effects on the same repetitive riff to turn it into a near-aquatic piece by the end, as though the guitars themselves have been immersed in water. I think this album would have gotten an easy 5 if there weren't so many bite-sized indie pop tracks between those pillars that bring the album together. The ones here are more than worth it though. Key Tracks: Earthquake, Desire Lines, Helicopter, He Would Have Laughed

Probably best known for introducing the world to Roky Erickson, America's answer to Arthur Brown, the 13th Floor Elevators was also notable for standing at the perfect intersection of psychedelia and garage rock. This has nothing to do with big budgets and warped production to give off the altered state effect. Instead, the "psychedelia" is confined almost wholly to the jug that quivers and bubbles in the background of practically every song. A little one-note for some tastes, but it really works in grounding the album in its most energetic moments. There's also something uniquely disjointed and angular about many of the songs, especially the first 2, "Don't Fall Down," "Fire Engine" and several others. It's the first time the air of menace that lurked in the shadows of post-Doors psychedelia had at least one foot in the door even prior to that group's debut. I would argue Erickson's performance is the standout here, with his gruff performances wailing up and down the high-octane tracks while also being able to simmer down just enough for the slower numbers. He's not always perfectly in time with the rest of the band, which leads to this off-kilter feeling throughout the record. The album is also given an incredibly raw sound, as though the master tape was left in its raw state and set out in the Texas sun before being pressed. It's the progenitor to the acid-charred sound that influenced heavier psychedelic music towards the end of the decade. This is an exciting debut from the 13th Floor Elevators, though it shows its age quite often. These days, it would probably serve more as a historical document, but it nevertheless has its own merits as a standalone garage psych album. Key Tracks: You're Gonna Miss Me, Roller Coaster, Fire Engine, Tried to Hide

The logical conclusion to the cavernous, nocturnal sound first put forth by Joy Division, Floodland is a masterclass in what I can only describe as "funeral procession rock." Led by the moribund voice of Andrew Eldritch (as if there wasn't enough gothic imagery - the frontman's last name is literally Eldritch! - Floodland actually turns up the volume and the energy compared to their debut. The band's signature drum machine leads the way forward as Eldritch almost speak-sings his lyrics like a vampire newly reanimated. Despite how brooding this whole album is, there are some pretty rousing moments, like the 7-minute opener "Dominion/Mother Russia," which has this shout-along hook that almost sounds arena ready. In short, this is Bauhaus by way of Jim Steinman, and its sense of progression betrays its otherwise extended runtime. The first 3 songs are the best ones you'll find on Floodland, as "Flood I" is a slow,stalking automaton pushed forward by a drum machine that sounds like it wants to punch you in the face. And if you know anything by this band, it's their signature tune "Lucretia My Reflection." Probably the most radio-friendly song on here (not that anything would really fit on the radio...) Later on, the 9 minute "This Corrosion" honestly overstays its welcome as a 6-minute song squeezed into 9 minutes, and "1959" is Eldritch's attempt at a ballad. That latter song would really benefit from someone like Bowie singing it. Not all is lost though, as the last 3 songs are all very consistent. Overall, this is a landmark in gothic music that most any exploration of the genre benefits from discovering. It suffers from a slight slump in the middle, but the very wide bookends more than make up for it and make ultimately create a consistently riveting atmosphere throughout this release. Key Tracks; Dominion/Mother Russia, Flood I, Lucretia My Reflection, Flood II

A standout from every angle, Hounds of Love is the album that synthesized Kate Bush's ethos the best. It's a maximalist exploration of her distinct brand of woodland spirit art pop. That isn't all that apparent in the first half though, as the pastoral feeling is set aside in favour of a dreamlike atmosphere. Look no further than the Voyager record-worthy track that is "Running Up That Hill," an utterly spellbinding and magical reflection on a relationship torn apart. There's not much else to say about it that hasn't been said before; it's perfect in every way, from its buildup, instantly recognizable main riff, and Bush's impassioned performance. The other song that gets the closest to that maximalist, bittersweet euphoria is "The Big Sky," a multipart suite condensed into a single song. From an almost city pop beginning to a thunderous guitar and drum outro. Few artists are ever as willing to let their songs get as busy and dysfunctional as Bush did this one. In the second half, the woodland creature vibe fully emerges in the form of "Waking the Witch," another multipart song with a scattershot and downright icy soundscape. Distorted synths, misplaced church bells all give way to some truly hideous growling mixed with Bush's most extreme vocal performance. I was NOT expecting a song like this on such and album like this, that's for sure! "Jig of Life" is the purest distillation of the second half's approach, and the vast a capella church choir of "Hello Earth" neatly wrap up the fascinating but occasionally terrifying exploration of human emotion and its relation to the cosmos. This is, in short, a stellar, one of a kind album. Key Tracks: Running Up That Hill, The Big Sky, Waking the Witch, Hello Earth

The band that brought you "Lovefool" has a whole bunch of other perfect pop masterpieces up their sleeve. Go figure. An underrated classic if there ever was one, First Band on the Moon is a remarkably consistent release that never really lets the momentum stop, even in its slowest loungiest moments (just check out that cocktail bar cover of "Iron Man!") On this album, twee-but-knowingly-sly frontwoman Nina Persson mostly sings of unrequited love and hopeless devotion. There's no better example of it than the mid-section one-two of "Step on Me" and the monster hit "Lovefool," the latter of which was a comprehensive introduction to the indie pop stylings of the Cardigans while also serving as the thesis of this album. It's a song so desperate for affection it doesn't care if it's even genuine; after all, the lyrics instruct you to "say that you love me," to "pretend that you love me." It's the epitome of a charity case hopeless romantic characterized in song. The reverse side of the coin is the jilted "Been It," curiously released as the follow-up single to "Lovefool." While it didn't do quite the same numbers as the former, (I don't think any song with a hook saying "baby I was your whoooooore" would ever fly with general radio audiences) "Been It" is the highlight of this album for me. A sunshine pop tune that just barely hides its disdain and mockery under a smile that doesn't quite reach the protagonist's eyes. The perfect combination of sardonic lyricism and pop sensibilities, which is really what I can say about this entire album. First Band on the Moon is proof the Cardigans were far, far more than a simple one-hit wonder: the rest of their work more than matches their lone massive hit. Key Tracks: Your New Cuckoo, Been It, Lovefool, Iron Man

The most 1995 techno-adjacent album I've ever heard. I can imagine many deep into the scene thought this already sounded dated back in the late 90s, and while it certainly shows its influence is firmly rooted in previous century, there's nothing actually wrong with Exit Planet Dust. In fact, the music inside is quintessential big beat, a perfect introduction to the genre and for the loud, abrasive, dancey-but-not-always type of electronica that swept across the UK in the 90s. The most energetic songs are all up front, and the second half takes on a more relaxed vibe (I mean, they got Beth Orton to sing an honest-to-God pop song for the closer!) Orton's languid, sweet voice contrasts sharply with those swirling electronics on that last song, and it's proof the Chemical Brothers hadn't shown all of their tricks to the public just yet. Honestly, it pays to have some more mellow beats after track 8 since they're all high-octane pedal-to-the-metal material before that. This, to me, mimics an album made for the era of flipping records over rather than playing a single continuous CD. The whole thing is more or less sequenced like a DJ set, with tracks leading into each other and building off of elements left behind in the transition. Take "Song to the Siren," which picks up the final residual elements of its predecessor before being warped and twisted as it ends and becomes "Three Little Birdies Down Beat." The heavy snare hits are eventually replaced by jarring beats that cluster together and repeat for minutes at a time. It's a remarkably live feel for an album so meticulously tailored in studio. All in all this a fine release in the big beat cannon, and while The Prodigy's Fat of the Land might have arguably done big beat the best, Exit Planet Dust serves as the godfather of the genre, providing all the tropes and elements to build off of. Key Tracks: Song to the Siren/Three Little Birdies Down Beat, Life Is Sweet, Alive Alone

An excellent live album that captures a genuine live feeling. It's harder to accomplish than one would think, but this 70(!) year old release does it perfectly, probably due to the limitations of the time. Sarah Vaughan herself is in top form as she slinks through lovelorn ballads and the jumpier numbers. There's always a sense of bitter-sweetness to her performances, even on the happiest songs. It's as though these are all nostalgic pieces for her and she worries she'll forget about them forever if she lets the last note go. It's important to note that nothing here is genuinely high-octane as it's a fairly low-key set full of delicate piano chords and soft brushing snare drums. Perfect mood music for a night at some fancy club on a rainy night, which I imagine was their preferred way of capturing the live atmosphere at the now-legendary Mister Kelly venue. I really thought I would go into this dismissing it as background fodder, but Ms. Vaughan surprised me with how compelling even her most subdued performances could be.

This is a 9 or 10 song album squeezed into 20 songs, a 45-minute album squeezed into 94 minutes. In short, this album has a little fat around the edges. It especially doesn't help that the lyrics essentially repeat themselves across different melodies and rhythms. Every song seems to cycle between 4 subjects: the complicated legacy of the southern US., the worship of the Southern rock originals (namely Skynyrd and the Allman Brothers,) tall tales not unlike fisherman's stories of wild events out in the great Southern frontier, and the isolationist, reactionary culture of the South. This album might have a theme going through it. Some of the more specific subjects include the Lynyrd Skynyrd plane crash, where a plane carrying the band from Grenville to Baton Rouge, LA, crashed and killed several band members; it's one of the greatest tragedies in rock history, and Drive-By Truckers somehow turn it into a grandfather's story about how this part of town was once all sticks. It's a very unique way of talking about the subject, I must say. Other than that, the album drifts between the same few styles - alt rock, harder-edged boogie, and of course, some good ol' Southern rock - but the band plays very well into their strengths, with powerful 4 on the floor beats and driving guitars serving up a lot of momentum. It's hard to keep an album interesting for 94 minutes, and Drive-By Truckers somehow managed it. The best thing they could have done though, was keep the songs that mattered the most and trimmed it down, because having 20 songs all about the same few things make few, if any of them, truly memorable. I will give it this: it's probably the best "pure" Southern rock album to come out after that genre's 70s heyday (not that rock itself was ever "pure," let alone the boogie, country and blues-fusion that made the Southern variety.)

I had well and truly never heard of this band before this list gave me this album. I had never read a single word about them in any publication, any website, and had not seen a single trace of any of their CDs in any of the record shops I visited. Truly, I thought the 1001 Albums list had made this whole Beta Band, Heroes to Zeroes thing up. And yet, this album, supposedly the last one released by the Beta Band before their initial breakup, is a surprisingly comprehensive document of 2000s British alt and indie rock. There's the post-punk-influenced shine of "Assessment," the bouncing jaunt of "Easy," the almost medieval folk of "Lion Thief," the electronic buzzing of "Liquid Bird," the sharp punk edges of "Out-Side," and the spacey Beck tribute of "Space." There's everything and more included on this thing. While I could stand here and tell you that this band is just aping the sound of other bands who did each of these myriad sounds better (which is true,) there's also a distinct charm to albums this eclectic that make an honest effort at every genre they attempt. And Heroes to Zeroes is an album that pulls almost all of these styles off fairly convincingly. The album's major fault certainly isn't its eclecticism or its songwriting. Rather, it's the boring, flat production that are this album's outdoing. Seriously, this album is mixed way too low (and it came out DURING the loudness war!) It sounds like they're playing all of these songs late at night and are trying not to wake anyone up. Only the punk songs are mixed the way they should be. It's a real shame because it drags down a lot of these songs since they sound so muted as a result. Production aside, the songs might not hold up compared to the genuine article(s) but you can count of them to get the job done in the absence of said genuine article(s.) I guess what I'm trying to get at is that this is a fine album to just put on and sample the many sounds of 2000s alternative. It won't blow your mind or anything, but you might leave it with a song or 2 that you genuinely like. Key Tracks: Assessment, Lion Thief, Out-Side, Liquid Bird

The part everyone knows is in the first 3 minutes of the Part 1. That at least helps entice the listener to stick around for the next 40 minutes. This full-album suite is meant to by played as a single continuous piece, only separated by the need to turn the record over 23 minutes in. Divorced from its Exorcist context, the opening movement of Part 1 still retains a tense atmosphere before slowly transforming into one of wonder, through only a slight chord change and sheer repetition. Despite Oldfield himself being a maximalist musician - a teenage prodigy who composed the entire album and played every instrument himself - this is a surprisingly minimalist release. It recalls modern classical pieces like "Music for 18 Musicians" or "In C" more than it captures anything even vaguely pop or rock. Unsurprisingly, Tubular Bells was eventually considered a precursor to new age, which is pretty well exactly where I would fit Tubular Bells. Each new section of the first half showcases a different instrument, almost like mini-concertos; towards the end, a voice actually introduces each instrument as though this was a live recording of some symphonic ensemble - I found that rather charming. The second half is much the same as the first, featuring pastoral guitars and Hammond plinking that recalls rolling hills and greenery. It's in this section that I fully realized this album is new age to the core. There's a little bit of prog rock that shows up about 12 minutes in, another surprise in this album's bag of tricks, which it uses sparingly otherwise. The whole thing ends with some ambient-sounding guitars and strange little jig to wrap the whole thing up, so if that isn't the most Clannad way to end this album, I don't know what is.

I can almost feel it: this album is so so SO close to being an all-time classic but it's just too unobtrusive and plain sounding to make it to that next level. The opener "La femme d'argent" is very promising, what with its 5 minute buildup from a lounge piece to a whirring shoegazey texture later on. The buildup songs are the most interesting to my ears, as "Talisman" does much the same thing as the opener, and "Remember," the following track, has a chopped, glitchy snare that really sticks out amongst the more romantic sounding instrumentation. All the other tracks seem to blend into one another, and the rest of the album comes off as a wide-eyed and fluffly reimagining of Stereolab's Dots and Loops, which did a similar thing in blending lounge instrumentation with krautrock-esque instrumentation. This is a serviceable record for a YouTube algorithm (and I have no doubt it appears there plenty!) but there's much better loungey electronica out there.

The only thing this album has going for it is that it came early enough in the alternative rock sphere to be considered a noteworthy - but not essential - album to its development. That's really where the positives end for this profoundly unmemorable, in-one-ear-out-the-other slacker rock album. Hardly any of the songs even get past the 3 minute mark, and while I can never fault a song for being concise, having a full album of 2 and 1/2 minute mid-tempo indie rockers makes them all blend into each other. At least punk songs have some energy to them: this whole album feels like it was recorded late at night and the band didn't want to wake anyone up. It also suffers from the early alt rock trope of doing everything at once, which makes the whole thing feel very catch-all and like it's just trying to see what will stick. The only song that really stuck out to me "Elixir Is Zog," which has a genuine wiry energy that would have easily kicked the album up a notch or 2 if the band stuck with it (that's some pretty cool Dax Riggs style screaming; I was not expecting that on this album!) At one point the instruments sound like they ran out of batteries. Honestly, all the high-energy songs like "Elixir," "Sister" "Telescopic Alchemy" and "Bouquet for a Siren" are the best songs here, but it still only gives about an EP worth of material, and the songs would still need to be cleaned up afterward. The ramshackle performances recall Pavement, but they don't quite have the snarky pop songwriting down pat, so it ultimately ends up sounding messy for no real reason. It's an ordinary, forgettable album that combines a lot of influences in an academic sort of way: there's nothing here that Dinosaur Jr., R.E.M., or Pavement didn't do better.

At least this album gets "Seven Nation Army" out of the way right away. It gives the listener the time and space necessary to appreciate the rest of the album without waiting for the Big One to finally start playing. What follows that massive stadium hit is some absolutely excellent, modernized blues rock for the 21st century. Jack White, with his massive guitar crunch and pentatonic phrasing that remains stubbornly planted in the previous century, puts on a performance that solidifies his status as the last true guitar hero to date. Meg White's minimalist drumming compliments his over-the-top theatrics perfectly. I know a lot of people criticized her "simplistic and unskilled" drumming, but any drumming besides Meg's own barebones style would feel out of place on this. Musically, this album has one foot firmly in the blues rock side of the border, while the other is in the garage rock revival part of the country. And honestly? Elephant is where both of those revivalist movements peaked, because, in the context of the movement, Elephant is garage rock at its most ambitious and grandiose, and blues rock at its most innovative and forward-looking. On the other hand, there's a few piano-ballad type songs that do nothing for me, and the production, with its blown-out, loudness-war mixing, makes this a somewhat tiring album to listen to. I genuinely felt like I was at a 50-minute White Stripes concert after this, and not because it felt live - it was just so damn loud even playing at a reasonable volume. That doesn't take away the stellar musicality and songwriting on display throughout Elephant's runtime. There isn't a single weak link in this 14-song tracklist honesty. The best thing this album does is to forcefully pull all these old styles - delta blues, hill country blues, garage rock, even rockabilly - into the 21st century, almost as an eternal reminder of where rock and roll came from, and where it could go next without having to forget its roots. Key Tracks (besides that opener:) Black Math, There's No Home for You Here, Ball and Biscuit, Girl, You Have No Faith in Medicine

The last gasp of the synthpop 80s as the decade of artificial synths and gated reverb drums gave way to the 90s. Depeche Mode are in top form here with every track building off the momentum of the previous one. From the sexed-up gothic tension of "World In My Eyes" - the best opener of their entire career - to the blues rock stomp of "Personal Jesus" to the constantly modulating monster hit "Enjoy the Silence," there's not a single note out of place on Violator. The synths might be dated to their era, but the entire album has an undeniable timeless quality to it: if the electronics were updated to reflect the times, most of these songs could have come out in just about any era. There's a strong cohesive thread that links each of the 9 songs together, which speaks volumes about the immaculate sequencing. The opener reflects a fully confident protagonist, while "Sweetest Perfection" details the drug abuse that gets them to perform (the lyrics are certainly a projection of frontman Dave Gahan's well-documented substance issues; it would hardly be the last song he wrote on this same subject.) For a set of songs so bent on using the technology of the time, Violator has remained ageless for over 35 years since its release for the universality of the themes it presents. "Personal Jesus" is a disdainful attack on the use of religion as a personal inconvenience solver, while "Policy of Truth" incorporates themes of deception as applied to a dishonest lover, a person lying about their true self, and even dishonesty in politics. That's a song I felt never got its due: I guess it's because it's in this weird middle ground where it's both too synthpop to be a proper rock song, but it's too rock and roll to be a synthpop classic. Its hook is among the catchiest on the album and it definitely belongs with the rest of their biggest hits if you ask me. I also love how it introduces small details and musical elements, takes them away, then brings them back for the final section; that's always been one of my favourite songwriting and production tricks. In short, Violator is a titan of synthpop, and its influence still rings far and wide across synthesizer based music, over 35 years after its initial release. Key Tracks: World In My Eyes, Personal Jesus, Enjoy the Silence, Policy of Truth, Clean

This album feels like a Sonic Youth album fronted by Kim Gordon who decided to take up pop singing. It's certainly something different. The guitars consistently sound like they're fighting each other and the whole album is filled with fiery shouted performances. The whole thing honestly feels like a collection of songs put forward individually by each band member in a sort of Fleetwood Mac approach. It's the only way I can really explain why everything is as cohesive yet as diverse as it is without breaking away from the established garage rock palette. While most of Dig Me Out is pretty pissed off and dour, there are some toe-tapping moments, like on "Now What You Want," a rough-and-tumble track that feels among the most organized instrumentally speaking. "Dance Song '97" is, true to its name, surprisingly dancey despite the deliberately harsh vocal performances. These ladies are not here to give a prim and proper performance in front of the mic, that's for sure. Their stylings do get the point across, with the lightning-fast vibrato coming off shrill and strident - I found that especially effective at conveying the sense of urgency that pervades the whole of Dig Me Out. There's some delightfully sinister writing no display in "Things You Say" and "Little Babies," which isn't surprisingly considering the band's staunch feminist stance and progressive political leanings. You're going to get some politics on a political album - surprising, I know. No songs are ever brow-beating though: rather, they invite a listener to think about what's being said and their broader implications. A solid, yet underrated alt rock release that flew under the radar for its release timing. In the era immediately following grunge, the rock world wondered where the genre would go next, which led to a lot of scattershot wagon-hitching; lots of bands like this one would have fallen through the cracks had the underground presses not upheld them. Key Tracks: The Drama You've Been Craving, Now What You Want, Jenny

That hideous album cover was almost an immediate turnoff. The music inside was a little more palatable, though the brickwalled guitars on the opener mixed with that shrill organ on top of it all immediately recalled Cardiacs. The rest of the album revealed it to be one part Cardiacs, one part XTC, and one part Kinks. In short, this album is British to the core, from its unrelenting punk energy to its lyricism full of sarcastic wit. Though I know basically nothing about this band, I've definitely heard "Alright" at least once in my life. It's supposedly an all-timer of British rock, though I found it to be sort of standard and middle of the pack. I suppose it's a matter of time and place considering this was 1993 and alt rock was barely coming into its own in the US, let alone in the UK. As the album progresses across its 13 tracks, the guitars constantly blasting more or less the same chords in your ear gets very tiring after a while. Thankfully, there's a few more diverse songs in the later half to keep your interest. There's an oddly flamenco-coded song in "We're Not Supposed To" which features these odd pitch-shifted voices laid on top of a sunshiney melody. There's also a blues rocker in "Time" and the massive pop hit "Alright" that help break up the massive wall of punk chords. The band could definitely do more than just punk thrashers, but songs like those are all too brief and too spread apart to truly break apart the endless guitar blasting monotony. What I did like about this album, I found quite good, but I feel like I'm missing out on the full experience by not being British. Key Tracks: Caught by the Fuzz, Alright, She's So Loose

By the time I had finished this album for the first time, I knew that "Bonny" would be a song that would follow me for the rest of my life. It has this unbelievably evocative atmosphere that conjures up all kinds of feelings of regret, pining, lovesickness, nostalgia... it brings me to a different place every time I hear it. The rest of the album is a little more complicated. I've never heard an album with such a huge gulf between its first and second halves. The first 5 songs are all perfect, then the next 6 (1 of them is essentially an interlude) are much sparser by contrast and do away with much of the busy production that lent an immense energy to the first half. The only song that, in my opinion, matches that home run of a first half is "Moving the River" because it retains most of those production techniques. I still can't quite get past that "turkey hungry, chicken free" lyric (food references in song lyrics have always been a weird thing for me.) I get that they didn't want to just repeat the same 5 songs twice, but so much of that second half is going for the same stratospheric high of what came before it, but it seems JUST out of reach. I know I've made a lot of the sequencing of the album, but it's the only glaring flaw on this entire record. The songs are brilliantly written and composed, with some of the best lyrics ever committed to a pop song's master tape. There's one line in the best-known track, "When Love Breaks Down," where singer Paddy McAloon says his love and him are boxing clever, which took me more time that I'd like to admit to figure out The same goes for the very literate writing on "Faron Young" and even "Desire As" from that second half. This is the kind of album that seems tailor-made for me; I've long been a sucker for elaborate arrangements nestled in accessible, yet literate pop songwriting. It balances all of its myriad elements almost perfectly, and it's a shame this isn't as revered as a similar art pop titan like Talk Talk's Colour of Spring, the album which it most resembles to my ears. Key Tracks: Tracks 1-5 (seriously!) Moving the River, Desire As

With her iconic beehive hair and stylish dresses, Dusty Springfield essentially formed the image of the Swinging Sixties on a whim. Even if you don't know where the image came from, it's one you instantly recognize as an emblem of the pre-rock and roll 60s. The music contained in this album is much the same, instantly transporting you back to the era of jazz clubs and the subtle hints of change hidden under the veneer of decorum and classy performance. There's some very bombastic and theatrical performances here, but most of them are surprisingly subdued and - dare I say - intimate. Springfield had an undeniable knack for making forlorn love songs apply to everyone and anyone listening, turning ever huge crowd into a personal show. That's what I get from this very live-sounding record - no amount of studio doctoring can take away how organic this sounds. The pacing really does follow that nightclub gig pacing, conveniently placing ballads and theatrical bombast at key points to maintain interest throughout. For an album I initially assumed would be nothing but plain, conservative balladry, A Girl Called Dusty thoroughly impressed me with its variety and authenticity, both to its time period and to its performer's undeniable aura. Key Tracks: You Don't Own Me, Will You Love Me, Anyone Who Had a Heart, Don't You Know

Let's get the rambling about "Imagine" out of the way first, considering it's the opener. Much has been made of this song's apparently hypocritical messages - Lennon himself had loads of possessions, renting out entire apartments in the Dakota for his coats, for instance. While the message itself is a genuine wish for peace, it kind of comes off as a naive challenge to the militant consumerism that had taken hold over Western society long before Lennon ever decided to write about it. Essentially, I find it tackles only a surface-level understanding of the problems rather than addressing the root cause of the rot. With that said, the rest of the album is actually fairly standard early 70s rock. I imagine that, if the Beatles kept going into the next decade, they would have made something between this and McCartney's Ram (actually, probably closer to that one considering Paul's control freak reputation...) Anyway, Lennon puts on a good performance here, going from gruff blues on "It's So Hard" to fervent anti-war passion on the next song "I Don't Want to Be a Soldier Mama." There's even a psychedelic piece in "How Do You Sleep" and even a loving tribute to everyone's favourite Beatle, Yoko Ono, in the closer. The title track isn't even the only piano ballad on this thing, but the others don't really measure up to it. A strong outing all things considered: it's eclectic without being scattershot, and the writing is evocative without being sappy. A nice happy medium. Key Tracks: I Don't Want to Be a Soldier Mama, How Do You Sleep, Oh Yoko!

The most energetic piece of the XX's oeuvre, which isn't saying all that much considering how low-key their output is. At least this one has honest-to-God rhythms on it! The interplay between both singers is one of the strongest points of this album. It functions almost as a core feature of the individual songs and their themes rather than a background elements that it was on the previous 2 releases. The hidden details in production also move this album in a more unconventional direction without losing the accessible indie pop sound the XX built themselves on. Of course, this album has the usual XX issue of not generating enough energy to kick the songs into the next gear and make them true standouts in the indie pop realm. It's especially true in the second half, which is where the bulk of the slower (than usual) balladry is stored. The album would really benefit from them being spaced out in this regard. With all of that said, this is still a solid consistent album nonetheless, one that I can confidently say is the best album in the XX's catalogue. Key Tracks: Dangerous, Say Something Loving, A Violent Noise, I Dare You

The crown prince of the Madchester scene itself. I had heard loads about this album when I was first getting into music seriously, but only recently gave this album a proper listen. In true Madchester fashion, this album is a perfect fusion of psychedelia and jangling alt rock, both danceable and contemplative. Confident and self-assured, the Stone Roses came out of the gate swinging, with an opening one-two-three-four(!) punch summarizing their entire ethos. If the entire album was just those opening 4 it would be one of the easiest 5s I would ever give. However, the middle section never quite catches up to the early goings, which is a trait typical of many albums released in the early CD era. Nothing is ever truly bad on this though, so the album is at least consistent in that regard. After all, few bands ever release an album so fully formed, let alone have their masterpiece be their debut. Key Tracks: She Bangs the Drums, Waterfall, I Am the Resurrection

It will never not shock me that the same Eric Burdon that played a crucial role in the 60s British Invasion was also a key member of this soul-funk giant. I'm sure most will at least recognize "Lowrider," and maybe the opener of this album "Cisco Kid." That song, and really this whole album, pushes R&B slightly left of the dial, presenting a slow, deliberate form of the genre that must have sounded utterly indescribable in the era where music just seemed to move faster and faster. Of course, this band's instrumental prowess is nothing to scoff at, as the 13-minute "City, Country, City" presents a 3-act jam that predates the popular concept of progressive soul altogether. The 10-minute title track also retains this deliberate sound, but the multitude of singers (Burdon included) that appear on the song make the track itself feel like a living, breathing metaphor of its concept: the world is indeed a ghetto; we all seek, find and live in the places set out for us, whether culturally, economically, or geographically. It's a somewhat unusual metaphor that took me a while to wrap my head around. The other, shorter songs almost match that same immense energy, though you can always tell that War put all of their energy into those 2 songs, those 23 minutes. "Cisco Kid" is of course a highlight as well, but so is the closer "Beetles in a Bog," which combines almost every element of this album - R&B, soul, funk, jazz, even Latin music - into a final celebratory jam. Despite how heavy some of the subject matter is, the album never strays from its eternally optimistic, forward-thinking ethos, and that's something admirable in every age. Key Tracks: The Cisco Kid, City Country City, The World Is a Ghetto, Beetles in the Bog

Long before U2 became Bono and Friends, and long before they started writing entire albums' worth of inane charity singles, they were a righteous group of guys intent on lifting the curtain on the Troubles that ravaged their home island. This was the first time all the elements had come together for U2: armed with a bigger budget and an utterly cracked, furious songwriting approach, the marching-band theatrics of the opener "Sunday Bloody Sunday" signaled that the crown prince of rock superstars had finally arrived. The album keeps the momentum going by-and-large, with the equally massive (in scale) single "New Year's Day" sings about the Polish Solidarity movement. The subject matter was not only timely, but it signaled a global ambition; in this era, U2 shouted "revolution!" and meant it. Even the cover art makes reference to this: the band got the same young boy to pose for their debut album, "Boy" as they did for this album. This time, the boy has aged 3 years, and his scowling expression hints at the dissatisfaction the band felt at the worsening conditions of their homeland. The non-singles might easily be dismissed considering just how huge the 2 A-side singles are, but each one has a little something going for it. "Seconds" has this absolutely beautiful fade-in chorus, the minor single "Two Hearts" is underpinned by its slinking bassline and arena-ready scale, and "Surrender" is a controlled flame of a protest song in contrast to the raging wildfire of the 2 singles. In essence, a listener could cut the grandiose ambition with a knife when they put this album on. U2's star would only continue rising from here as they became the biggest names in rock a mere 4 years later. Key Tracks: Sunday Bloody Sunday, Seconds, New Year's Day, Surrender

Released just a year after Fear of a Black Planet, Apocalypse 91 continues the hot streak Public Enemy were on since their 1988 breakthrough It Takes A Nation of Millions... There's plenty more of the duo's signature confrontational lyrical style and proto-industrial beats, starting with the opener "Lost at Birth" with its massive whining melodic line that mimics a roadster or a plane flying overhead. Not everything on this album is as in your face as that opener though, as as "By the Time I Get to Arizona" has a languid blues backing complete with processed harmonica. The rapping has also become more diverse and experiments with different stylings besides the standard furious, rapid-fire flow they were known for on the previous 2. The skits are fairly spaced out as well and serve more as interludes and transitions between the tracks with wider stylistic gulfs. For an early 90s rap album that runs over 50 minutes, there's hardly anything here that feels out of place, though there also isn't much that sets this album apart from the previous 2. I guess you could consider it underrated among Public Enemy's classics in that sense. All this proves to me is that Flava Flav was the greatest rap musician of his generation with how well these beats are crafted and how ahead of the times Public Enemy were in their heyday. Key Tracks: Lost at Birth, By the Time I Get to Arizona, Bring the Noize

The epitome of a once-in-a-century album. There quite literally isn't anything else that comes close to sounding like this. On this 90+ minute double album, the Beatles explore every single facet of their recording careers, careening from music halls and brass bands to proto-punk freakouts and acoustic ballads (with everything in between to boot!) Truly, this is an everything-and-the-kitchen-sink kind of recording. One of the major points of discussion surrounding the White Album is that it's too long, or that it could be cut down by a few minutes without losing its quality. The interesting part of this debate is WHICH songs should be cut, and that seems to be something no one can agree on. My honest opinion is that all of the songs contribute at least a little bit to the massive scale and ambition of this album, though I do concede that some of the shorter interludes could be done away with without losing too much. I might just be in awe of how remarkably consistent an eclectic, 30-track album could be, or even at how such a concept could exist in 1968. This album could have been made at any point after that initial release year and still be considered ahead of its time. Though I believe the experimental side of rock has finally caught up to this, I couldn't imagine a mainstream artist releasing anything remotely close to a White Album in this day and age. After all, how many chart toppers have made a "Revolution 9?" Now that's a song that has to be heard to be believed. It was probably the most expensive sound collage piece of all time given the limitations of the time. This is an album where a song about an amusement park sounds like the apocalypse (in Charles Manson's mind, anyway.) It's an album where an inane children's tune can coexist with proto-Sabbath guitar crunch. It's an album where wobbling blues shuffles live alongside restrained, elegant folk tunes and almond-eyed tape loops. This kind of release, at the midpoint of all that came before it and all that came after, truly only appears once in a century. Key Tracks: While My Guitar Gently Weeps, Happiness Is a Warm Gun, Don't Pass Me By, Yer Blues, Helter Skelter, Long Long Long, Revolution 1, Revolution 9

This is quite possibly the most ambitious debut album of its generation. There's no stone left unturned on this grandiose, sweeping album, which begins with a suite of cinematic opening credits and ends with a 9-minute multipart suite. In between those 2 tracks, Monae explores pop, R&B, funk, soul, hip hop, rock, gospel, jazz and even more as it tells a storry based on the Metropolis series. In that aspect, The ArchAndroid is also a concept album, both about that sci-fi series and a more general one about a robot that operates based on the love it experiences. The first 5 songs transition seamlessly into one another, and there's precious few albums that can match the energy and consistency of those 5 tracks across their own runtimes. Something similar happens in the middle and end sections, though the first 5 songs still form the best song cycle on the album (if you can call them that.) This album is a remarkable synthesis of innumerable disparate genres, all immaculately fused and produced together. It would be a nearly impossible feat for an artist to stand out among the crowd of musical styles, but Monae forms a distinct identity across almost all of them. My only gripe with this thing is that no song ever seems to stay in one place to make any one of the 18 songs here a true standout, so the album ends up sounding like a massive monolithic piece, and not always in a good way. Given its inherently maximalist framing, I doubt this album can disappoint, as almost anyone can find something interesting to attach themselves to in the songs here. This is inarguably the best album of Monae's career, and proves the old saying true: one has their entire life to make their first album, but only 6 months to make their next one. It's just a shame that Monae never reached these stratospheric heights ever again, as this album more than carries its weight in cementing her place in the pop landscape of the 2010s. Key Tracks: Dance or Die, Locked Inside, Come Alive, Mushrooms & Roses, BaBopByeYa

Arrested Development are considered little more than a footnote in alternative hip hop history today, so it's easy to forget that this album sold millions and cleaned up at the award shows. The press genuinely thought this was the direction rap was going to go. Of course, we can't discount the press' attempt to distance hip hop from gangsta rap, the sub-genre that became the true herald of 90s hip hop. This album came out in the intermediate period between the 80s old school and the eventual gangsta takeover. Evidently, this is a very Afrofuturist record, conjuring up images of fists raised in the air, dashikis and Black Panther slogans. The music contained within is surprisingly mellow and offers a contemplative look at the social issues plaguing Black Americans in the early 90s. Despite the associated imagery, this record is less intent on calling a listener to direct action as much as it invites them to think about what's really going on. The cause is noble enough, though there's a fairy thick veneer of soapboxing and preachiness permeating this album. I mean, the frontman literally named himself Speech...! His raps have aged the most bizarrely, with some of them fitting right into music that came out years later while others are firmly dated to 1992 in both style and subject matter (that magical Black man allegory on "Mr. Wendal" is the prime example.) I actually appreciate this album being included on this list, because it offers a look into the general vibe and attitude of rap as it entered a new, more prolific decade. Though Arrested Development is largely confined to the memory holes of the early 90s, they played a vital part in shaping what would eventually become the gold standard alternative hip-hop style. Key Tracks: Mama's Always on Stage, U, Tennessee

It's pretty rare that an album can offer a look into a genre being created in real time. Unknown Pleasures is among those elite few, with the first track "Disorder" transforming punk into post-punk before the listener's very eyes (ears?) After that, this is pretty lugubrious release, with Stephen Morris' drumming usually being the only thing giving these songs a sense of structure. Actually, the instrumental part of this album is nothing short of top-notch, with everyone finding their exact pocket and forging distinct styles right out of the gate. It's apparent in Peter Hook's high-up basslines and on Sumners' grinding guitars as well. Throughout this album, they imitate heavy equipment on an abattoir floor. Sometimes they're barely able to contain themselves from exploding into clouds of noise. Once you get past "Disorder," Unknown Pleasures alternates between a horse drawn carriage plodding through a moonless night and the soaked streets of the band's hometown of Salford (Peter Hook once quipped "I'm not scared of the Devil, I'm for Salford!") With all that praise for the instrumental, this album's one glaring weakness is Ian Curtis. One of the principal purveyors of the tortured artist trope in rock, Curtis sounds completely unsure of himself, as though singing his lyrics was a consolation prize he didn't want to accept. In his lower mid-range, he does a serviceable Jim Morrison interpretation, but his lack of pitch and phrasing is apparent the higher up he moves across his registers. It's a major detractor for me, and I'm of the opinion that the album would have been much more presentable if a Peter Murphy type was given these songs. As it is though, this album was a revelation in the advancement of darker, moodier rock music, and that's something that can never be taken away from it. Key Tracks: Disorder, Candidate, She's Lost Control

There's something to be said about an entirely self-contained, self-produced debut like this one. This an authentic and enthusiastic album throughout this album, which really lets its human element (its imperfection) shine through. The funk influences are abound on this and really lend an excitable energy to a rock album that came out in an era where the genre was becoming increasingly dour and introverted. That said, Kravitz's performance leaves something to be desired throughout this album; his voice almost struggles to get to where he wants to go on certain songs, and the whole album being so strongly rooted in the rock and soul funk mix makes it come off as a derivative of its ancestors, namely Sly Stone. Prince and Jimi Hendrix. This album is SO CLOSE to being a rock-solid debut but it fails to reach the necessary highs more often than not, which makes it somewhat hard to sit with for its 55 minutes. Overall, it's a fine, albeit inessential, debut album from an artist who would do far better just a short time later. Key Tracks: Let Love Rule, Fear, Be

When I was first getting into music beyond the charts, the hype around this album seemed almost overwhelming with how much the press raved about it. I remember listeneing to it about 7 or 8 years ago and not thinking much of it. On this second listen, I like quite a bit more of this album than I used to though I still feel like something just isn't clicking for me. There's some absolute gems in this tracklist (The Queen is Dead, The Boy with the Thorn in His Side, Some Girls Are Bigger than Others) but others that I just don't understand. "There Is a Light" made me question why everyone seems to acclaim it as absolute peak music. Overall there's just as much that I like about this album as there is that I don't care for, so you can consider me indifferent to this whole thing.

My first time listening to this. My only prior exposure to the Smiths was listening to The Queen Is Dead (once several years ago, and then one more time for this list.) This one is definitely more adventurous than the previous one and it does put Morrissey front and center in the mix; I found he was sort of buried under the echoey production on the previous album. His voice has this soft lilting quality to it but I find it's a little too sappy and delicate to listen to for an entire album. The wide contrast in effort between songs (the longer ones clearly have the most oomph behind them) also sort of detracts. I might revisit this eventually one day, but my opinion of the Smiths is unchanged - they're fine and I'm someone absolutely adores them, but it isn't me.

The career defining album of the most beloved rock-and-roll wife since Yoko Ono. Honestly, Love's incredibly raw and sometimes vicious performance surprised me. There's a nice mix of polished big-budget alt rock that often veers into gruff, uncompromising hardcore, usually at Love's direction. Though the album's sound palette sounds pretty dated today (you can basically pinpoint the exact year this was released) it's still a standout entry in the very, VERY wide alt rock landscape. Key Tracks: Violet, Plump, Jennifer's Body

More of that classic 2-tone ska sound that made the Specials immediately stand out on their debut 2 years prior to this. This album generally keeps up the jovial, nighttime party atmosphere of the debut with a few more with a few more slow, groovy tracks to for added effect. Some songs clearly stick out more than others, especially in the early goings; I find there's a distinct slump in the middle section that makes too much of this come off like a chintzy island resort playlist. Overall it's fine as an album but it's equal parts background music and essential listening - I don't think I've heard too many albums with such a wide gulf of quality. Key Tracks: Enjoy Yourself (It's Later than You Think,) Man at C&A, Stereotype/Part 2

I had never heard much about this band beyond their oddly memorable name, and I had never actively searched for any of their work. Upon finally listening to their debut, I can say I was pleasantly surprised. Sure, the material here is mostly safe and ordinary by today's standards, and the songs usually make the most predictable choice for any of the required changes and switchups. Despite that, there's just something...more to this album that can't quite be captured by their contemporaries. Maybe it's the icy calm that's betrayed by the active beats, maybe it's the earnestness of the songwriting, maybe it's the duo's uncanny ability to make long-lost emotions well up in you as you go along this album. I'm not quite sure which it is, but what I do know that this album still holds up in the face of all that it influenced, even if 13 years of hindsight has aged it somewhat to how cutting-edge it must have sounded when it dropped. A worthwhile look into what synthpop had been up to in the years since its 80s heyday. Key Tracks: The Mother We Share, We Sink, Tether, Science/Visions, You Caught the Light

This album is somewhat upstaged in Talking Heads' discography, mostly by what came after it (Fear of Music and Remain in Light.) This is certainly a step up from the debut, but Byrne's performance is definitely not for everyone, and I find his sing-shouting in his high register grating after a while. The band's interplay is fantastic though, especially for it being only their sophomore album; it's really the main thing that makes this album bearable for me. I also found the album cohesive to a fault, which, in this instance, means songs get very samey about 5 tracks in. Really, the opener, "Thank You for Sending Me an Angel" and the singles "Take Me to the River" and "The Big Country" were the only memorable tracks on this thing because everything else just blends together. They really did improve leaps and bounds over this on the very next album(!)

Unrelentingly loud and played at a breakneck pace, this is definitely a live album that benefits from being played with the volume cranked a little too high. The tracklist functions as a Motörhead best-of, featuring most of the Overkill album (their peak if you ask me.) Most of the songs included are nearly equal to the studio versions, with the simple, no-frills renditions really translating just how damn loud this band even as a 3 piece. This is a powerful live document that proves every bit of the band's now-legendary reputation for hard living and for playing everything louder than everyone else.

Though it's often overlooked these days in favour of other rock operas of its time (Sgt. Pepper's, Future Passed) and it's since overshadowed by the reappraisal of the Who's own Quadrophenia, this is still a seminal album in not just the Who's own catalogue, but of rock and roll in general. Despite its status as a rock opera, it only really "rocks" in a few select places(the end of "Christmas," "Pinball Wizard" and "Go to the Mirror!" for instance) so its sound is really built around the narrative the album's songs tell. Let's not forget this was one of the first albums to really have theatre-style leitmotifs appear and reappear in a rock album. This is a lot folkier and more progressive pop than I remember it being when I bought it as a Christmas gift for my dad some years ago. With all that hindsight, I would have to say this album is vital as a document for understanding how rock music progressed as an art form, but, as a standalone piece, this album is very much a product of its time and, in modern contexts, can only be considered more influential than good. Key Tracks: 1921, Cousin Kevin, Christmas, Pinball Wizard, Go to the Mirror! We're Not Gonna Take It

Led almost entirely by Redding's gruff, inimitable voice, this album is a benchmark in soul by all metrics. Personally I was fairly surprised to see so many all time classics find their earliest success here (namely Respect, My Girl.) Much of the album is covers or other assigned material in general. While I find it to be a quite robust and fully convinced album, it does get very samey about halfway through and Redding doesn't really show much of his voice except go full blast almost every time. An album that serves best as a nice background accompaniment as it rarely ever demands a listener's full attention.

Low-key and downcast to a fault. The songs are already background fodder as they are but the instant the rhythm section takes a backseat the songs become downright anemic. There's still some highlights here and there but they're mostly in the first half of the album. One thing is that the group definitely understands its sound and its niche right from the get-go, though they would only ever improve it on later outings. Key Tracks: Intro, Islands

For an album that's intended to capture the live fury of James Brown and his famous Flames, this one is a lot more subdued than I was expecting it to be going into it. Brown is, of course, in top form in the more energetic sections, but the slower songs, like "Try Me," seem sort of ill-fitting for this album. It's also odd that they would compress everything to a blink and you'll miss it 30 minutes for this live release and elect to keep only the most straightforward songs. This is nevertheless a great live document of James Brown in his prime, though later live albums do a much better job of capturing the pure unbridled electricity of his performances.

What an absolute gem of an album! Prima's voice may not be perfect but he injects every last note with so much character and joyous energy the musicality becomes secondary (I had felt this even years earlier when I first heard his voice in Disney's Jungle Book, and even more so when I connected a person to the voice.) Even 70 years on, the uproarious atmosphere of whatever club this was (or wasn't; could be studio trickery) recorded at is immediately apparent. Prima was a seminal figure in introducing jump blues and the R&B precursors to rock and roll to broader audiences through jazz, and the seamless blend is almost immediately apparent once you get past the pure swing glory of that fantastic opener. There's also some very subtle Italian folk seasonings here and there, which makes this album all the more important in understanding the development of popular music. I can't help but grin when this one plays, it's just too much damn fun! Key Tracks: Just a Gigolo/I Ain't Got Nobody, Jump, Basin Street Blues/When It's Sleepy Time Down South, Jive an' Wail, Buona Sera

A benchmark album from the undisputed titan of reggae. Much of this album retains that classic, jaunty reggae sound, which works well for shorter songs but gets very samey when the songs toe-tap past the 5 minute mark. There's just enough variety to make a listener recognize each song is different, but the whole album, in general, sounds like an extended jam session building off a groove that slowly evolves over time. Perfect for the jovial collaborative atmosphere of this album I suppose. I would say I remembered and liked quite a few songs, though just as many went in one ear and out the other for me. Key Tracks: Lively Up Yourself, No Woman No Cry, Bend Down Low

Come for "Cloud Nine," stay for the half-and-half record that follows. This one is a groundbreaking piece in the Temptations' catalogue as it adds funk to the psychedelic soul sound they had been so seminal in development. Don't be fooled by the opener and 9 and 1/2 minute "Runaway Child Running Wild;" about half of this album is plain, by-the-numbers Motown, which is still a fairly high bar for quality. And really, nothing could follow up those two giant songs so may as well play to your strengths both new and old. I can see this was probably a harder choice of an album to include than most, as the Temptations were always more of a singles act, but they're just too important as a group to outright leave off a list of significant albums... Key Tracks: Cloud Nine, Runaway Child Running Wild

Scott Walker truly was a one of a kind singer. While I'm sure many listeners will dismiss this album as nothing more than trite easy listening, the lush arrangements betray the subject matter hidden just under the surface. The album opens with a retelling of Ingmar Bergman's 1957 movie "The Seventh Seal" right down to the life and death battle as chess metaphor. The strangeness only continues with songs like "On Your Own Again" which goes through a whirlwind of emotions ranging from nostalgia to regret to grief in only 1 minute 45. You even have contemporary commentaries on war and political upheaval ("Hero of the War," "The Old Man's Back Again) which, in a way, makes this album both out of its time (let's not forget that a string-heavy baroque pop like this was released the same year as Hendrix and Zeppelin were making waves) and very much of its time. Scott's voice is brilliant as always, a velvety smooth baritone that almost wants to sing you to sleep, until you realize what he's singing about. An absolute high point of his career that would only keep moving in stranger and stranger directions. Key Tracks: The Seventh Seal, Angels of Ashes, The Old Man's Back Again (Dedicated to the Neo-Stalinist Regime)

Fela's most explicit condemnation of the Nigerian government is also one of his most upbeat triumphant songs. Go figure. "Zombie" is simply a can't miss moment of jazz funk, with its biting, sardonic description of law enforcement, both domestic and abroad, and its damning critique of political systems so fragile to abuse and corruption, and for the average person's willingness to be walked over by those same systems. On the other side, this is the album that ultimately proved Fela's undoing; the hostile reaction to this album by the Nigerian government led to his compound being destroyed, his mother being thrown out of a window(!) and the disbandment of the iconic Africa 70 backing band. While you would think this album and the next few that followed would retain a dour atmosphere, Fela kept going at the corrupt system guns blazing, with the music as upbeat and defiant as ever. To say nothing about this album musically, it's the perfect fusion of the African rhythms and jazz-funk, half-and-half instrumental-vocal style that made Fela the all-time great bandleader he was. The only thing that detracts is that the next 2 songs on this don't really match "Zombie" in intensity and commentary. A must-listen in Fela's very large discography alongside Expensive Shit, Gentleman, Coffin for Head of State, and my personal favourite, Roforofo Fight.

Quite the impressive live offering from one of hard rock's most unsung heroes. I had never really thought much about this band besides hearing "Boys Are Back in Town" on rock radio here and there. You won't find anything super daring or out of the ordinary on this one, but this album offers plenty of straightforward rockers that keep you amped for its entire runtime (and 76 minutes is a VERY long time to stay amped.) Not sure how all-important this album but it's a hell of a good time and an excellent example of how interesting no-frills rock could be at the genre's peak.

A very typical entry in Costello's catalogue. Though he tackled a lot of styles across his long varied career, Costello will always and forever sound like himself and no one else, for better or worse. There's some real effort put into this - check the soundscape attempts on "Green Shirt" - and some other very strong pieces round this album out quite well ("Oliver's Army," "Goon Squad" and the US version-exclusive single "Peace, Love and Understanding," which is vital to getting the full experience out of this album.) However, to my ears, everything beyond that handful of songs stays stuck in second gear, anchored there by Costello's reedy, weird-for-its-own-sake vocal performance; really the difference between the quality of the backing and the singer is night and day. As a result, too much of this album is in one ear and out the other to make this a solid entry in this list.

An album like this is an absolutely essential one to include on lists like these, or any list chronicling popular music. It's the perfect bridge between disco, R&B and the eventual biggest genre in the world for a time, hip hop. The first half of this starts with some absolute belters and really does feel like an actual block party common to this era. We have some of the first instances of performers calling themselves MCs on this album as well. There's some surprising variety on this first half, where the 4 tracks move from a disco groove to a more straight-ahead R&B song, to an electronic robot warp in "Scorpio," back to a mid-tempo R&B groove. That last one is a little much with its over-the-top chimes and belted "lots of men are DYING"! It stays in the same vague ballpark but each song is different enough to give you a good idea of its versatility. Things keep going on the more subdued second side, where we're treated to 2 Stevie Wonder-style ballads. It was at this point that I figured out one of the weak points of this album: most of the songs are fairly unfocused, and with so many voices trying to bring this singular album together, a substantial part of the album is off-beat, off-key and sort of struggles to pick back up after a cue is missed. I guess that was sort of the point, and I must say, it makes the album feel very inviting and, frankly, more human. I just wish it was a little more polished before being pressed. The ballads are such a huge whiplash it feels like we've gone from an outdoor block party to some theatre to see Prince play only his greatest love songs... After all that though we get the true blue reason The Message is the record of record when it comes to the early years of hip hop. The title track is a Voyager record-worthy track that transcends so many of the myriad barriers of its time, from that iconic synth line to the return of rapped performances, absent since the first half, the use of sampled speech in the bridge, and even still in the absolutely perfect groove that wouldn't really bother me if it looped for a half-hour. This song alone is worth the price of admission and it's perfect in every way. My final assessment after listening to this is that about half of this album is absolutely essential while the other half is easily expendable. A strange sort of combination for a one of a kind sort of album. Key Tracks: She's Fresh, Scorpio, The Message

This one is, for better or worse, an origin point album. It's the rare kind of release where one can pinpoint the before-and-after point of everything about a genre changing. Though others came first, no one did it with quite so much suave charm as Snoop. The lyrics are a big subject of scrutiny here, and basically every negative, guns-bitches-and-money stereotype of mainstream hip-hop is popularized here (check some of the lyrics from "Ain't No Fun...") Sound-wise this album is just BEGGING to be blasted from the speakers of someone's low rider on a bright sunny day (I guess you could say this is a very GTA coded album, or rather, that GTA is a very Doggystyle-coded game series.) The central performance of course is Snoop Dogg's own, and it's a relatively introverted performance compared to the relative bombast and unsubtle instrumentation that surrounds him. It's actually an unusual contrast that stands out among his peers even today. There's moments like on "Tha Shiznit" where those whistling G-funk synth lines basically drown him out, yet Snoop maintains that same monotone drawl. It certainly sets him apart from a lot of the rappers of this era, and even today, but in some places it makes him come off as unamused, which is a problem that persisted in his do-anything-for-a-paycheque approach to music 30 years on. Despite all that, Snoop has never sounded quite so hungry, and his performance here would never quite be equaled. Snoop Dogg is more of a rootless, catch-all "celebrity" these days, but this album gives you a glimpse into what G-funk was and is, and its wide ranging influence despite only a brief appearance in the spotlight. Really puts into perspective personality that went from being a murder suspect in the 90s to appearing on daytime cooking shows. Truly a one of a kind career.

By the early 80s, Paul Simon had firmly set his sights on the destination that would become Graceland, and the pit stop before that later album fully tapped into the sound and aesthetic of southern Africa, he had to meet it halfway with his former folk pop sensibilities. This album is the result of that. It's by and large a transitional piece in Simon's discography, one that would take him to pop superstardom in the mid to late 80s but, as a standalone piece of music, is generally unexceptional. The more upbeat numbers are serviceable pieces of 80s pop, but the slow ballads are just completely listless and sap any and all warmth or energy out of this album. I find this album kind of confused; I can only compare it to standing on a bridge in the dead center with one foot on either side while you stand there stumped, unsure of whether to turn back or cross to the other side. All it does is bore the people watching you out of their mind unfortunately.

A sort of unsung release from the LA punk heyday. There's some softer moments here and there but the lyrics never give up their biting wit and general dissatisfaction with the world surrounding them at the time. I suppose this album serves very well as a time capsule of the time and place it was recorded in. That said, X have definitely put out better albums than this (it's even sandwiched between 2 of them in their catalogue!) and, compared to the fiery debut, Los Angeles, this one feels like it's just tending the fire until they're inspired again; in other words, this is the sophmore slump in X's catalogue. Nevertheless, John Doe and Exene play off each other really well as one's strengths covers for the other's shortcomings. There's a couple of gems hidden in the blends-together tracklist as well, namely "Universal Corner" and "In this House That I Call Come" which, to my ears, both sound very southwest US for some reason.) All in all a fine release but I'm unsure why it would have to be included on a list of the most essential albums ever.

I find it kind of odd that a bootleg album is included on a list like this, I really thought they would go for more "formal" release. But I guess this is the truest, rawest document of Dylan in his 60s heyday. And, having now heard the live version of probably the single most relentlessly acclaimed artist of the past 75 years.... I have to admit about half of this album is actually pretty good. None of the good parts are in the first half though because that's just Bob Dylan, whose voice is completely shot after a long tour, a guitar strumming the same 4 chords, and a harmonica that never shuts up. If he didn't overblow the harmonica here and there I would dismiss it as a cure for insomnia; really nothing memorable for me here. The second half is a different beast altogether. If you ask me, the second half should have been the entire album and my perception of this album would improve about tenfold. Dylan is backed by a full band there, and his biggest weaknesses - the repetitive song structures and his marmite voice - are compensated by the band improvising all over them. It's definitely the best possible way to breathe life into these songs. It's an infectiously jovial half too, and all the memorable highlights are found here. Among them are "Tell Me, Momma" and "Ballad of a Thin Man." I'm told the version of that latter song is among the best ever by some. This double live album is really a tale of 2 Dylans, and whatever brilliance the listener finds really depends on what they were looking for going into it, which is something you could say about Dylan as a whole. I was just looking to enjoy it, and this album succeeded about half the time.

Beck was always a sort of oddity in my music journey. I had never really given much of his work the time of day save for finding "Loser" to be a brilliantly written piece of surrealist 90s irony. I suppose I also maintain that "Devil's Haircut" is also an absolute banger. Being given Sea Change as my listen finally forced me to confront some of his catalogue for the first time, and I have to say, this album is pretty well exactly what I look for in a singer songwriter's oeuvre: drawn-out, dramatic vocal performances, a strings-and-beats instrumental and a flair for spacey production. I was shocked Nigel Godrich produced this over Daniel Lanois, because Lanois' airy dreamlike fingerprints are all over this thing. Beck also shocks me with this boozy, forlorn vocal that kind of sounds like a cross between Scott Walker and a despondent Bono. Really threw me for a loop when I first heard him. To some it would probably be very easy to dismiss Sea Change as a boring album: it's probably the most uniform Beck album sound-wise, with everything essentially keeping up that string-heavy folk style. Probably one of the least eclectic of Beck's releases, but that works in its favour and really makes Beck's songwriting shine here. One thing I can criticize here is nothing really stands out aside from the big singles on this "The Golden Age" and "Lose Cause," but I can forgive that as the bar for quality is pretty up there. It's also a pretty frontloaded album with most of the top-tier material showing up before track 6. I was pleasantly surprised by this album, a left-turn release from one of the most eccentric singer songwriters to come out of the 90s alternative boom. Turns out (ex-)Scientologists can make good music sometimes... Key Tracks: The Golden Age, Paper Tiger, Lonesome Tears, Little One

It's been a while since I last listened to this one. While Tago Mago might be my sentimental favourite, CAN's final outing with resident shaman busker Damo Suzuki is a succinct encapsulation of everything that made this band a true innovator in all things psychedelic and experimental. There's a huge amount of variety for an album with only 4 songs. The title track and "Spray" are the requisite groovy jams (just listen to Jaki's metronomic drumming - in an era before click tracks no less!) a pop single in "Moonshake," which keeps up the accessible edge they honed on the preceding album, and an improv piece in "Bel Air." There's something distinctly aquatic and tropical about this whole thing, which I can only compare to lounging on a lazy river while 2 tabs of acid start taking effect, peaking somewhere around "Bel Air." All in all this is a landmark album in the krautrock scene and one that reasserts CAN's status as the undisputed kings of that genre, without saying anything about the innovations it brought to broader music (where, after all, did post-punk get it sound from?) Key Tracks: Future Days, Moonshake

For an album that supposedly established the groove metal sound, this one really doesn't groove all that much. It's essentially a thrash metal record played at 3/4 speed. To top it off, most of the songs sound virtually interchangeable with only the big singles really standing apart because they're the only songs that don't just chug along at the same old rhythm for 5 minutes at a time. Given how homogenous the album is musically, it basically lives and dies by the frontman's performance, and Phil Anselmo has fully settled into his tough guy act here. Gone are the Halford-style sirens and dynamics, instead replaced by a heavily distorted in-your-face shout. Instrumentally, most of Dimebag's solos are pretty interesting and memorable though the all gain no-low-end tone he goes for takes some getting used to. They all really show off how he had developed and found his defining trait as a guitarist. Anselmo's scenery-chewing macho man act also sells this whole "I refuse to apologize for being the worst person you know" thing very well too. I found most of the best songs were in the first half, which was a pretty common problem across Pantera's catalogue (only Great Southern Trendkill really bucks that trend.) I guess this is a historically significant one, but there was much better metal than this coming out in 1992; they were just the only one among those bands to have a distinct image, which certainly counts for something.

A landmark album in that this was the breakthrough album of the first band to primarily make their name online. This band's breakthrough was really the moment music promotion changed from analog to digital; make what you will of those changes. Musically it has a much harder edge than I remember it having, especially the opening pair of tracks. There is, however, a peak and valley difference between what's great on this album and what's merely OK. Compare the middle section of songs to the opening 3 and closing 4, for instance. Singer Alex Turner is also still finding his sound, and his voice would improve by leaps and boudns on each subsequent release even when the instrumentalists didn't. Most of his melodies are centered on 1 or 2 notes and is fairly unsure of itself when melodies require more out of him - just listen to the wobbly performance on the closer "A Certain Romance" to hear what I'm talking about. That's probably one of the reasons why Arctic Monkeys were unfairly lumped in with the landfill indie that permeated UK rock from 2002 to about 2007. The band has an undeniable ear for finding musical hooks though and it ensures that almost every track has something memorable about it. You can probably chalk that up to how much the band pulls from dancey club music; it's one of the key elements that really separates this band from most of the monochrome alt rock they were competing with. This was actually quite the enjoyable listen for me; I felt every ounce of character the band poured into these songs and I certainly wouldn't mistake them for anyone else's. A high point of 2000s alt rock and that's despite the huge slump in the middle. Key Tracks: The View from the Afternoon, I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor, A Certain Romance

I wasn't really sure what to make of this one. I really enjoyed the more modern takes on psychedelic rock (it hits that perfect sweet spot between "psychedelic" and "rock" and I find that far too many artists steer to far in only 1 direction.) The contemporary indie rock was fine I guess, and so were the jammier bits like "Back at the Farm." While the songs have this nice rocking edge to them and everyone puts on a decent enough performance, the songs here lack memorability and come and go with at atmosphere as breezy and the feather light production. Definitely a product of its time but I'm not 100% sold on this being such a seminal album as to warrant an inclusion here...

Dolly Parton is more of a general, unspecified "celebrity" these days, but what's often forgotten about her is her incredible knack for heart-rending ballads and for embodying the great lonesome. Her voice rings clear as a cloudless sky all over this album, even if none of the material is all that energetic. Half of the songs on here were written by Parton herself, which is still sort of a radical thing in the incredibly rigged world of the Nashville sound. Of course, the main concession here is how bog-standard the instrumentation and structure of everything is; after all, country is a traditional genre with a traditional sound. Nevertheless, her voice easily soars past all the ordinary humdrum instrumental, and even some of the more unremarkable songs, to make a distinctly memorable document of early 70s city girl country (countrypolitan, I hear they call it.) I wasn't expecting to be so thoroughly entertained by an album like this; it actually left me wondering if Jolene is also included in this list. Key Tracks: Coat of Many Colors, Traveling Man, She Never Met a Man (She Didn't Like)

What to say about this album that hasn't already been said a thousand times before? This is U2's first (and greatest) foray into the postmodern, the greatest left turn in rock history to that point, and the sign of what was to come in the decade ahead. Released in an absolutely pivotal year for popular music (Nirvana says hi about a month after this comes out,) U2 got ahead of the great 80s rock mass extinction event by reinventing themselves as ironic has-been rockers capitalizing on modern trends for their last 15 minutes in the spotlight. This wasn't actually too far from the truth, as their image had taken a hit from all the sepia-toned desert photoshoots, and internal tensions nearly forced the band to break up. By the dawn of the new decade, it seemed only a drastic reinvention like this could ever have a chance of keeping U2 together. I liken this album's release to the moment the world turns to Technicolour in the Wizard of Oz; U2 at last step out of the modern world and into the realm of the ironic and the surreal. With all that out of the way, I'll finally yap about the album itself for a bit. This, to me, is a sound that was often imitated but never quite replicated. Nothing else has ever sounded quite so contemporary and so futuristic; this is the soundtrack of a trip through a subway system covered in thousands upon thousands of lights, each flashing a different colour and direction. The slower songs turn those proverbial lights to 1) ensure the album has a hit and 2) remind you exactly which band you were listening to and that the band didn't forget to write hooks. There's plenty of them on this album regardless, but there's just as many instrumental hooks as there are lyrical ones. Bono largely abandoned the full-blast belting style he had developed in the 80s in favour of a more dynamic and colourful persona, exemplified by the various characters he sang as, ranging from the delusional fading rock star "The Fly" to the devious lounge lizard "Mr. MacPhisto," the latter of whom appeared on the iconic Zoo TV tour that accompanied this album and its even weirder and more confessional little brother, Zooropa. While U2 would ultimately return to the safe Joshua-Tree era image as they entered the 21st century, this album still serves as an essential reminder that few bands with this level of fame and success ever take a gamble this wild. Even fewer come out of it for the better when it's all said and done. Key Tracks: Zoo Station, Even Better than the Real Thing, Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses, The Fly

This is music for a cold, rainy, possibly foggy November day. This is music for the downbeat and the desperate. This is the happiest collection of songs to come out of Bristol. That last joke aside, Dummy is one of those indisputable high points of the Bristol trip-hop scene, though most artists labelled as such would furiously reject that label. Much of the mythos surrounding this album probably has to do with how formless the band was; they only started playing this material live after the album had come out. All of the musicians involved were of wildly different ages and came from wildly different backgrounds, and yet the resulting 50 minutes of music has not a single note played out of place or time. Only on albums like this could a 60s bubblegum pop tune be turned into a drugged out hazy mantra (check that sample on "Biscuit.") Only on albums like this could skittering rhythms meet a morose synth and actually meet halfway. All of this is anchored by Beth Gibbons' one of a kind performance. She generally uses her more comfortable middle pocket to convey the blue-grey gloom of the lyrics but occasionally goes into this nasal Billie Holiday-esque sound, like on "Numb" and the iconic closer "Glory Box." It all makes her sound like the ghost of a Depression-era jazz singer that never really made it finally getting her big break 60 years beyond the mortal plane. Truly a one-of-a-kind album. Amazing chill, amazing depression, amazing performances. Timeless in basically every sense. Key Tracks: Mysterons, Sour Times, Wandering Star, Glory Box

I'll give Björk this: she managed to make a 45-minute album (almost) entirely a capella without resorting to anything conventional. You won't find any easy barbershop harmonies or seamlessly blended voices here. In fact, every one of the many, MANY voices on this album seem to deliberately clash against each other to make them stand out in the spacious, at times miry mix. On this album, Björk enlists throat singer Tanya Tagaq, experimentalists Mike Patton and Robert Wyatt, and a litany of choirs and beatboxers to create an oddly cold and unfeeling atmosphere. Sort of ironic as about 95% of this album is created with the voice, the most human of all instruments. The mix is also kind of dry in sections where Björk herself sounds way too upfront on some of these songs, which make the whole thing feel oddly incomplete despite how obviously prepared and painstakingly arranged this whole album was. This will probably go down as the most divisive album in her very varied catalogue. Björk would only keep veering into strange single-instrument experiments like this one, which quietly signalled that she had exited the masterpiece period that produced the 3 albums that preceded this. Key Tracks: Where Is the Line, Who Is It, Oceania

I liked about half of this album. The Beasties have never been accused of having voices that could read a phone book, and that simple fact grated on me quite a bit. It's not even the yelling for me, it's more of the strident, snot-nosed delivery of essentially every bar. This is admittedly an album of party music, and the more upbeat numbers keep the energy high and consistent. The more mid-tempo tracks on here are absolutely grating to me, especially "High Plains Drifter;" I felt every second of those 4 minutes. All that aside I can definitely see how this album is considered so essential, being that it sampled a little bit of everything from everywhere and introduced that approach to broader hip-hop as a result. To my ears, listening to this 35 plus years after its initial release, this album strikes me as a standout release that came out during the most fruitful years of hip hop's evolution. These days, its influence casts wide, but the album has aged a fair bit. Key Tracks: Shake Your Rump, Hey Ladies, Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun, B-Boy Bouillabaisse (some releases separate each movement, others group them as a single 12 minute track)

I didn't expect to enjoy all that much of this album, but there were a surprising number of gems on this one. It's also a brisk affair at just under 30 minutes, meaning the album wastes very little time in getting each song across to you. I particularly liked the harmonies that were there-but-not-really, I hadn't heard harmonies that wide (close? A little of both on some of these songs) before. The main thing holding this album back for me is the slower half of it. Those songs act like the album has 15 more minutes when, on a release like this, every single second counts. The momentum built by the more upbeat number essentially evaporates in those moments. However, this makes the higher-energy numbers stand out a whole lot more. All in all this album had more high points that I was willing to concede considering Simon and Garfunkel always struck me as the sort of soothing, inoffensive band for old fogeys whose faces would get melted by the Who. Credit where it's due, there's some brilliantly written folk pop here; I never knew the evergreen "Mrs. Robinson" was by them, or from this album! Key Tracks: Save the Life of My Child, Fakin' It, Mrs. Robinson

I'll give Joy Division one thing: both their albums start on the absolute best foot possible. "Disorder" on the debut innovates an entire genre in real time, and "Atrocity Exhibition" is that genre's vampiric cousin, brough to life (back to it?) just a year later. I really thought I was in for something absolutely exceptional, but the album ended up being more hit-or-miss than anything else to my ears. For every clear highlight like the opener or "Colony," there were 2 songs that just did noting. Too moody, too ambient, not enough rhythm to move anything forward. It felt like the B-side took a really weird left turn into synthwave especially on those last 2 songs. There's enough here to make me appreciate individual songs as highlights of post-punk and the gothic sound that emerged out of them, but they feel a little bit hidden in the gloomy, murky mire that is the album they're on. Furthermore, while the rest of the band has improved leaps and bounds from the debut to Closer - it's apparent in the grooves on the more driving songs - Ian Curtis' voice just has not kept up. It's still the same pitchy monotone on basically every song, which really detracted from the incredible potential these songs had. I know that Joy Division sold a lot of people on the strength of that voice, but I honestly find it sounds so... amateurish compared to the instrumentals. Came in with high hopes, left with a mild appreciation. Key Tracks: Atrocity Exhibition, Colony, A Means to an End

An album that sounds very much of this time. I don't think I've ever heard an album sound so exactly like the first half of 1986 like this one does. Ms. Baker is, of course, the primary attraction of this release, and she brings her incredible voice in SPADES on this thing. She belts, riffs, modulates, and sirens up and down the otherwise very beige, pedestrian instrumentals. She is, deliberately so, the only noteworthy part of this album. Musically and thematically, this is yet another album to stack onto the landfill-sized pile of adult contemporary soft R&B balladry that slowly but surely swallowed up the entire 80s. Despite the wide influence of Ms. Baker on the R&B that followed her, I would argue the most influential, integral part of this album is its format: it was the breakout release not only for its central singer, but also for the ballads-and-bops-fronted-by-a-powerhouse-diva format that brought us Whitney (despite her being a contemporary,) Mariah, Celine, and many, many more whose stars shone tackling material like this. The Revolver of supermarket music. Key Tracks: Sweet Love, Mystery, No One in the World

I had honestly never heard of this guy or this apparently seminal debut before it was recommended to me. I must say, I'm pleasantly surprised. Hip hop was hard enough to get into for me way back in the day, and French hip hop has long been one of my blind spots. To hear this Senegalese rapper absolutely glide over these very modern (for the time) beats and come out the other end as arguably the greatest Francophone rapper of his generation is quite impressive. There's a surprising variety on the musical end of this album; it's not all just Tribe Called Quest-style jazz rap beats. Though much of the instrumental is dated to today's ears, and not all of the lyrics hit like they should have, about 90% of this album still holds up. There's a lot of very standard, but never inessential, social messaging about racism, social class and human division more specific to France in the early 90s. There's also a couple of songs here and there about presence in the family and the willingness of people to fall prey to broader influences. This is a lot more eclectic and diverse than the genre and release year would originally suggest, and I actually quite enjoyed this album even if I did find a couple of songs a little overlong. You don't need to know a word of Frecnh to know this guy's got it in spades; definitely recommend this one as an entry point into the French hip hop scene. Key Tracks: Qui seme le vent recolte le tempo, Victime de la mode, Bouge de la Partie 1 (Ragga Jam as an added bonus for how insane it is)

I don't think I had ever listened to this album in full until this list gave it to me. I had only heard "Debaser," "Tame" and "Here Comes Your Man" at certain points over the past 8 or 9 years preceding this full listen, which is sort of ironic considering how much of my favourite music was influenced by this album. Needless to say, no one quite mastered the quiet LOUD quiet dynamic like Pixies did on Doolittle. The rickety, ramshackle sound of the album makes the 60s pop influence shine through like a ray of sun through a cloud of buzzing guitar clouds and clattering drums. The album somewhat loses steam past "Monkey Gone to Heaven" but there's enough solid material to last until the end, so it never really moves into less than good territory. There's also very little time wasted on this thing: songs don't ever overstay their welcome, but it can sometimes mean they come and go without leaving much of an impression. Bonus points for the really aggressive ones that feature Frank Black's screams because those are the irreplicable kind of visceral, deep-from-the-stomach-pit type that most metal frontmen spend careers searching for. All in all this is a must-listen for anyone looking to understand alt rock and the development of the sound that ruled rock for the rest of its mainstream heyday. Key Tracks: Debaser, Monkey Gone to Heaven, No 13 Baby, Gouge Away

Judging by the artist and album name and the cover art, I thought this album was much more recent than its 1969 release year ever suggested. The music included here is a nice mix of that classic folk, country and blues-influenced rock sound that would come to define what most would define as "dad rock." There's a nice medley of everything here, from jammy pieces like "On Sir Francis Drake," a relaxed proto-yacht rock song in "Sunlight" and a driving multi-section opener in "Darkness, Darkness." And that' just the A side! There's lots of classic jaunty, bouncing grooves mixed with twangy guitars and slides; it honestly wouldn't be out of place on a CSNY or Creedence release if either of those bands ever covered one of the songs here. The B side isn't all that interesting outside of the big, sax-heavy ballad "Quicksand," another early example of the ultra-commercial rock sound that would swallow up all pop music by the mid-70s. The B side closer, the drifting, chime heavy "Ride the Wind" is the only other notable song on the second half, but it does a very good job of putting a near little bow on this surprisingly eclectic album. I must say I was pleasantly surprised and thoroughly impressed with this offering. There's so much to be excited about and it's definitely a grower of an album. Though it might sound cliche and dated today, most of this album's many musical choices would be commercialized by the next decade through no fault of their own (based on what I searched about them, they never really made it big.) I think you could get a lot of mileage out of this album if you go into it considering its eclecticism as ahead of its time rather than a sign of the 70s schlock to come. Key Tracks: Darkness Darkness, Quicksand, Ride the Wind

A companion album to her seminal 1995 release Wrecking Ball. That album was a recent addition to my all-time favourites list after "Where Will I Be" brought me to tears but that's another story for another time. Red Dirt Girl released as the proper solo followup to Wrecking Ball and mostly follows the same approach that made Wrecking Ball the 1-of-1 dream country album it is. That album was produced by Daniel Lanois, hence the airy, spaced-out production. Here, Malcolm Burn mostly structures these songs the same way, using Harris' crystalline voice as a waypoint. There's a pretty good ratio of hits-to-misses using this approach but I fear the material just isn't as good as it was on the previous album; it's the same issue as Kid A vs. Amnesiac. All that aside, Harris' voice is still as devastatingly beautiful and ageless as ever; I could've sworn she was in her 30s when she made this, but it turns out she was about 20 years older than that! What I really like about her is her no-frills approach to her melodies; forget anything about rhinestone cowboys and city girls singing about rural life wearing $3000 boots that never saw a speck of dust, Emmylou Harris is the real deal. Musically the album often veers completely out of the country domain, like on the practically ambient "Bang the Drum Slowly" or the honest-to-God trip hop beat on "Tragedy." In typical Emmylou Harris fashion, there are all kinds of guest stars here, Bruce Springsteen to Dave Matthews being the most prominent among them. It's definitely an unconventional approach to an otherwise strictly traditional genre (Nashville would never allow "J'ai fait tout" on any big artist's tracklist in a million years.) But, having reach the 35-year milestone of her career, Emmylou Harris wasn't interested in listening to anyone's opinions on where her life and career were supposed to go, especially if it came from the same country radio fat cats who told her she was too old to have another hit. With all that said, the unconventional choices sometimes work against this album, where the otherwise country-folk stylings are electrified and become a vaguely trip hop-inspired stern pop that popped up all over this era. Emmylou Harris should not be sounding like the Beth Orton we have at home. That doesn't mean there aren't a few genuine gems on this one; my final recommendation is to listen to Wrecking Ball if you want to hear the sound of this album done right. Key Tracks: I Don't Wanna Talk About It Now, J'ai fait tout, My Antonia

Incredibly important to the mainstream proliferation of hard rock with a psychedelic edge. Cream was the starting point for a lot of heavier rock, which is a point I find is too often overlooked when assessing the band's legacy. In modern times, I feel this band is increasingly forgotten when listing some of the all timers of the late 60s, a far cry from how rapturously they were received in their heyday. It might be that the band never really cared to get back together save some one-off reunions, nor did they ever care much to glorify this part of their history. Nevertheless, Disraeli Gears is Cream's defining statement, featuring the iconic heavy psych sound that defined the early years of heavy metal (all despite Mr. Baker's objections.) Musically the songwriting is pretty solid here though it's pretty obvious the singles were picked out deliberately. The majority of the deep cuts are instrumental showcases more than anything, which makes sense considering this album was recorded at light speed (the band apparently only took 1 or 2 takes to finish entire songs, as groups used to record together in those days.) One of the things that sort of distracts me is the lack of a single defined lead singer. Bruce does much of the heavy lifting here, especially on the B side. Clapton is still finding his voice here but his guitar skills are very well near their peak. Really, all the instrumentalists are in top form, which makes this album such a treat compared to the relatively loose contemporaries in the psych scene. I can definitely see why this was included on the list: it's rare to find the perfect combination of strong songwriting, elite instrumentals and broad appeal to leave such a long-reaching legacy. Even if this album's star has faded, I doubt it will ever go out. Key Tracks: Sunshine of Your Love, Dance the Night Away, Tales of Brave Ulysses

One part Jesus and Mary Chain, one part Big Star. That's vaguely where I would place this album aesthetically and musically. It also sort of reminds me of The Lilys, an unsung shoegaze band from around the same era. There's a lot of noisy power pop goodness on here and quite a few of the songs are single-worthy and there's a very warm, sweater-weather feeling to a lot of these songs that remind me of the autumn months. There is one thing this album lacks to my ears, and it's pacing. So many short noisy tracks are reduced to interludes while you wait for the more digestible alt rock tracks to come back. If you look at it the other way, the slower pop rock songs detract from the incredible momentum the noisier parts build. I find the only song that really gets everything right is the opener "The Concept," which is rightfully assessed as one of the best songs in this band's catalogue. And while I don't usually comment on album art, the MS Paint energy of this cover is off the charts: I don't even know what it's trying to communicate about this album's sound...! In any case this is a solid document of the UK's take on alternative rock around the crest of the wave that swept all of rock and roll way back in 1991. Enjoyable if you're a fan of warm, jangly noise pop played a little too loud for comfort. Key Tracks: The Concept, Star Sign, Alcoholiday

It's a fairly standard piece of 90s alt-country, complete with the more indie rock passages and a vocal performance that isn't trying to be perfect, it's just trying to get the point across. It's the second example of a later-career release by a veteran country songstress exploring the new sound of alternative country, the first being Emmylou Harris' Wrecking Ball released 3 years prior. This album is definitely more rooted in traditional country where Wrecking Ball veered too often into straight-up U2 territory (Daniel Lanois produced it: go figure.) If you want an authentic middle point between the traditional country Williams had made for much of her career before this album and the more modern sound that brought country to the 21st century, this is the album for you. For me, I like about half of this album for its down to earth sound and the convincing performance from Lucinda Williams herself. However, a lot of this is a little TOO safe sounding, which makes some of the songs feel like they've been placed in the exact middle of the road depicted on the album cover. Despite how authentically country this album is for most of that runtime, there's a strikingly modern sound to it: it sounds like a 2010s album in places, which really lends a timeless quality to the mixing. Really nothing is out of place on that front It also defies the peak CD-era convention of making as many inhumanly long songs as possible to fill the 80-minute runtime - this album doesn't waste any of its 51 minutes. Owing to the stellar production job, I guess you could also argue it's a perfect bridge between folky roots rock and alt-country as well. That's the surprising thing about this album: for how straightforward it's played, it really serves as a bridge between sub-genres and movements, a road between towns if you prefer. Key Tracks: Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, Concrete and Barbed Wire, Still I Long for Your Kiss

Well if this is the way this list can include the monster hit that is and was "Take on Me" then so be it. That song is the opener so you don't have to wait for it at all. What follows is actually quite well-crafted and memorable by 80s synthpop standards. Definitely a surprise from the band widely considered a one-hit wonder (though I've had this experience before with the Cardigans' First Band on the Moon, which since became of my favourites.) Honestly, this album really puts the band into perspective for me - I genuinely think that if they came a little before or even after the new wave and synthpop boom periods of the mid-80s they would be taken a whole lot more seriously. One only needs to look at the soundscape(!) of songs like the title track to see that this band was more than its ultra-commercial smash hit. However, a lot of this album is indeed pretty indistinguishable from the rest of the synth-heavy landscape of the era, and the super-processed drum sound that was all over music gets annoying pretty fast. Doesn't help it's accompanied by lazily strummed acoustic guitars to give it a "grounded" feel despite the ultra processed everything that surrounds it. Despite all that, this is a VERY solid piece of 80s pop goodness and you could do far, far worse than listening to this. Not bad at all for a band dismissed as a sappy one-hit wonder if you ask me. Key Tracks (besides Take on Me of course:) Hunting High and Low, The Sun Always Shines on TV, Here I Stand and Face the Rain

It would be obvious to say this is the middle child of the Berlin trilogy seeing as it came after Low and before Lodger. However, I would argue Heroes is actually the middle child of Station to Station and Scary Monsters. It's just the perfect bridge point between the 70s and 80s especially considering the other albums felt very confined to the sound they were exploring. There's a sense of freedom and desire for eclecticism that the rest of the trilogy doesn't have. That doesn't mean the album doesn't fall into the half-rock half-ambient trap of the other Eno-produced albums. In this instance the A-side carries the album to its current reputation. Bowie has plenty of representation on this list, though I wonder, with so many albums included, whether this one was added simply for its iconic cover art and the monster track that is "Heroes." Now that's a song to put on a Voyager record if they ever made another one! Famously recorded with Robert Fripp on guitar, Bowie sang each verse standing a little further away from the mic, which is what captured that incredibly impassioned performance from him - far and away the best of his career. The ambient sections are a little rockier than the dirge-like fare of Low but they really are missing the extra special something (essentially there's a Bowie-shaped hole that stops them from being elevated to the A-side's level.) I think this was a fine album to include as an essential listen as it's a great way to figure out where Bowie had come from in the 70s and where he would be going as the new decade came around the corner. It also has his best song on it. Key Tracks: Beauty and the Beast, Heroes, V-2 Schneider

That atmospheric intro had great potential that immediately evaporated when the beat kicked in. That was my first impression of this album, now considered a pillar of grime's resurgence in the UK. This is a shockingly recent album for this list, having celebrating its 10th birthday at the time I wrote this. The second track converted me back with its earth-shaking bass and Skepta's much more convincing performance. My takeaway from this album is that the shortest songs are the best ones as the longest tracks like "Corn on the Cob" get lost in looping the beat and extending the song past its natural conclusion. No need to stretch out a 3-minute song to 5 minutes. I can forgive that though because basically every song has an enormous level of care put into it. It makes sense considering the significant delays this album had; it came out nearly 3 years after it was first announced, and Skepta used that time to rework and revamp the entire thing from start to end. The effort and conviction is apparent in almost every bar and every beat is at the very least distinctive and memorable. It's also an album that really comes into its own in the back half as all the big hits and more popular singles are to be found there. This is definitely the type of release that rewards your patience and dedication, which isn't something you really see in a genre as in-your-face and immediate as grime. No recency bias to be found here; this album brings the hype and its influence on the grime scene, and on UK hip hop in general, becomes obvious as soon as you finish the album and have a moment to sit with it. Key Tracks: Lyrics, Crime Riddim, Man, Shutdown

My 100th album to rate and I'm given this utter monument of popular music: lucky me! To me, this is the jazziest jazz album to ever jazz. The perfect introduction to the wonderfully calm, soothing and sometimes bizarre world of jazz. Every note in place, every change perfectly timed. To my ears, it's a little too prim and polished, working too perfectly as background music that flits and floats by as you do something else. This isn't too say this isn't a strong album by itself - there's a reason it's a standard entry point for someone looking to get into jazz for the first time. That genre can seem intimidating from afar, what with its endless talk of chords and theory (it just reminded me that John Coltrane, who appears on this album, is the decided reason for that shift.) Kind of Blue puts the listener's mind at ease and lets them know there's something in jazz for everyone, which is something I think we can all rally behind. Key Tracks: Freddie Freeloader, All Blues

While very much a studio effort, there's definitely something that feels incredibly (a)live here. Each and every song inhales and exhales to ease into the groove that carries it for its runtime. Electronic music owes a lot to this album that's for sure, and that's before even addressing its immense influence on the dance music that followed. This also accomplishes the important task of exposing people to the monster hit that was "Freak Out." Known to my ears as the anthem to dance parties at the end of many a 2000s animated kids' movie, I've come to reassess "Freak Out" as the song that crawled so Grandmaster Flash's "The Message" could run. The true attraction here, top-tier disco aside, is Nile Rodgers himself. The cofounder of this group, Rodgers' playing is the link between about a dozen genres and more often than not he's just strumming the same 2 to 3 chords for minutes at a time. Few could ever influence so much with such economical playing. The disco tropes of sappy mid-tempo ballads with overwrought strings appears here mostly on the back half, but what would normally repel me from many a release is honestly not a problem here. I think it's the immense good will the first half built while I listened. I would say the A-side is definitely the better one. A must-listen for someone looking for the best disco had to offer in its heyday, and for others looking for the bridge that linked rock to dance. Key Tracks: Chic Cheer, Freak Out, I Want Your Love, Sometimes You Win

This one is an acquired taste on all fronts, from the sort of distant, night-on-the-town aesthetic present in both the spacey production and suave cover art to Bryan Ferry's scattered crooning vocal performance. It's a rock album unlike any other, one that owes as much to Engelbert Humperdinck as it does the Rolling Stones. Much of it is owed to keyboardist Brian Eno, (yes, that Eno, from the Windows XP sound suite) whose sweeping soundscapes elevate this album far beyond the vast majority of Roxy's glam rock contemporaries. Despite the musical ambition, Roxy was just as fuelled by coke as the rest of the glam scene, only they chose to be tasteful about it, sipping a glass of Cheval Blanc while dressed in a fancy housecoat while sat out on a swanky balcony. Musically speaking, this is an album that wears a fair set of colours, a fact betrayed by that iconic, near-monochrome cover image. If I could convey the songwriting in a sentence, it would probably be something like "breakup songs sung like wedding proposals." So much of the sophistication and glitz the album conveys falls apart the minute you listen closely to what Ferry is saying: check out "Beauty Queen" and "Every Dream Home" for the best examples. The latter song is the high point of their career, offering a perfect encapsulation of their ethos. The song describes the daily horrors hidden just underneath the veneer of modern luxury and performative sophistication. The entire impression of wealth as a sign of merit is entirely torn apart by the increasingly tense keyboard work from Eno and the eventual searing solo that closes the track out. Other artsy rock achievements found here include an extended krautrock jam in "The Bogus Man," which is more direct in its theme of describing a stalker, and a straightforward pair of rock songs in the opener "Do the Strand" and "Grey Lagoons." You'll definitely find a little bit of everything glam on this album, and that's what makes it the peak of the genre to me. A shame Eno left the band after this to do his own thing; Roxy Music never again reached this peak, though they got close on a few occasions. Key Tracks: Do the Strand, Beauty Queen, Editions of You, In Every Dream Home a Heartache

This is a fine piece of 90s hardcore punk from a fine example of a band typical to the San Diego scene of the time. One of the more interesting things I noticed is how ahead of its time the album cover is: it really reminds me of a late 2000s post-hardcore album cover rather than something out of the mid 90s. Musically it's acceptable enough as an amped-up walkthrough of the classic hardcore punk beats. There's a little more variety than I would have expected originally given the genre, though it comes at the cost of consistency - this band does the hardcore punk thing way better than most of the other styles they try, which is mostly straightforward alt rock. I suppose that if the San Diego punk scene is an absolute must to include on a list of seminal albums, this would be a pretty good example of it. In terms of hardcore punk as a whole genre though, there is better out there, but few that seem so...oddly friendly as this one. There's just something so inviting and jovial about this album where so many other bands of this time seemed so utterly miserable. I guess that's what sets it apart: it's hardcore punk that doesn't compromise on energy or intensity while still being inviting enough to entertain the uninitiated who listen to it. Key Tracks: On a Rope, Ball Lightning, Come See Come Saw, Burnt Alive

The first Radiohead album this list has given me, and if the music press is anything close to a reliable source, this probably isn't the last one either. Hail to the Thief is the rockiest Radiohead release since The Bends, and the first one resembling conventional alt rock since OK Computer 6 years prior. This one is distinctly edgier though, and it brings the band's political undercurrent to the forefront. Inspired by the band travelling across the U.S. and writing down catchphrases and slogans inscribed on billboards across the country, Radiohead really sought out to return to their alt rock roots though there's a distinctly electronic half to basically every song. It definitely feels like it was a more spontaneous process than the calculated and deliberate sessions that produced Kid A and Amnesiac. However, that spontaneity also translates to a slightly overlong album with a few too many tracks; I think this one could really have benefitted from being trimmed down by about 3 or 4 songs with those left behind being made bonus tracks. Otherwise ideas feels like they return and repeat, but not because of a deliberate attempt to establish a theme. Nevertheless, Radiohead is a fairly consistent band, and this album managed to move the band forward once again (hard to do that 6 times in a row...) The band would never return to this level of cynicism and righteous fury again, as the albums to follow either moved in a personal direction (In Rainbows, Moon Shaped Pool) or played with the sound to a near-fault (King of Limbs.) Sometimes I miss this Radiohead. Key Tracks: Sit Down Stand Up, Where I End and You Begin, There There, Myxomatosis

I never really got into Steely Dan and I don't think I ever will. Outside of the big hits, the sound is too safe, too meticulous, too far in the background for me. This isn't to say this album is entirely bad, it's just that I would naturally only be attracted to the bigger songs on this, and there are quite a few of them on this. The music itself is quite technically correct and surprisingly elaborate as well, so I'll give the Dan some credit there, as I will to some of the more obscure lyrical references (what is "Kings" really about...?) That said I don't really understand why there's so much Steely Dan representation when, in my opnion, just including Aja would have been fine enough. Maybe it's the boomer-era critics' legacy hyping this band up as they incorporated a lot of Latin influences, which is very apparent on the songs here. Quite a bit of Latin jazz and mambo-type sounds to be found here, which I suppose lends an "exotic" quality to these cocktail bar anthems. Key Tracks: Do It Again, Reelin' in the Years, Brooklyn (Owes the Charmer Under Me)

Simon and Garfunkel meets Bob Dylan. Sounds like something I wouldn't like going into it, but I was pleasantly surprised that my ultimate assessment after listening was a resounding "meh." There isn't anything standout about this album besides having come early enough in the San Francisco scene to establish some of the reliable psychedelic folksy tropes the area would be known for. It really isn't all that psychedelic when you really listen, but many of the songs have little details that make this a pretty confident album for a band fairly early into their career. The singer does indeed sound like Dylan at times but it's clear he has a better command of melody than his much more famous comparison did at that time. There's also a surprisingly sarcastic wit to some of the songs here, as if the album was disillusioned with a scene that hadn't even been invented it. Look at "It Won't Get Better" and "Nine Pound Hammer" for examples of that latter point. Apparently there were a lot of label disputes as their previous albums were made up of covers, which might explain why this album is rather underrated. Overall it's a historical document of a budding folk scene and a pretty solid album overall, just don't expect to be blown away too often. One last little anecdote: as I was making a list of my own records I decided to look over my parents' own records to list them and was surprised to find this album among theirs! One of the last things I would have expected them to have. Key Tracks: Only Dreaming, Painter of Women, Magic Hollow

Often dismissed as a cheap copy of other big sounding bands like U2 and Radiohead, Coldplay definitely borrows from both of them on this debut release. What's important to note is they've veered in a fairy commercial and arena-ready direction as most of the Britpop bands did following the end of Oasis' true prime years (thank Be Here Now for that one...) On their auspicious debut, Coldplay try to show us they're ready to pick up where Radiohead left off in 1997. Rather than continue disappearing into themselves and create wacky genre experiments as Yorke, Greenwood and co. did after the Bends, Coldplay asked themselves "what if The Bends was beige and was your mom's favourite rock album?" The answer is somewhere around this album. Alternatively, you could say Coldplay beat U2 and All That You Can't Leave Behind to the punch by having Chris Martin pretend to be the Bono that worried about alienating his fans by being too ironic. The result is a straightforward, earnest album that plays to both of those influences' strengths while also adding a tinge of bright-eyed melancholy. You can feel sad and nostalgic, but not excessively so, partly because the songs here aren't particularly memorable outside of the big singles. It's great mood music if your mood is "bus ride home after a long day at work/school." Besides the songs I recognize, this was sort of in one ear out the other for me, which is probably what inspired me to write this utterly nonsensical rant. Anything to weird up this very, very safe record. Key Tracks: Don't Panic Shiver, Yellow, High Speed (for that ironic title)

Not 3 days after my last Steely Dan album, I'm given yet another of their albums (hopefully the last one.) I don't absolutely hate this band, but it's definitely not something I would seek out. I suspect a lot of people my age have good memories of this music because it sounds like it would be a hit with most people's parents. Well my mom liked Motown and my dad liked hard rock, so the Dan never really fit anywhere. All that aside, this one is the best of the 3 Steely Dan albums this list has given me. Every song is memorable and immaculately produced. I would have liked if it had a little more of a distinct edge but the whole album has been produced to be as prim and polished as ever, like someone buffed out every wrinkle and crease on its face. It's the equivalent of a waxed tiled floor; the pattern is nice to look at and you might find something fun, but you wouldn't dare put anything else on it lest you ruin the perfect sheen. Quite a bit of this thing also reminds me of some irresponsible playboy with thinning, slicked back hair wearing a Hawaiian shirt over dress pants driving an obnoxiously loud convertible. It's got the perfect corporate-sounding sleazy vibe to me, which might actually be something they're going for(!) There's even a song with some groove to it in "Peg," another new facet to Steely Dan's repertoire. I would honestly add that one to a playlist, it's very good. Everything else is unfortunately in that mid-tempo haze that makes the songs drift about listlessly for their entire duration. The title track is a pretty brisk 8 minutes, but more than one song whose samey riffing makes 5 minutes feel like 7. If there were half-star ratings I would have given this an extra half point, but the energy from the 2 songs I enjoyed isn't enough to push this into 4-star territory unfortunately. Beautiful sounding album overall - if only it had more songs. Key Tracks: Black Cow, Aja, Peg

Public Image works best in small doses. That's why this maximalist examination of their sound - the mechanical drums, spindly guitar passages courtesy of the late great Keith Levene, and some absolutely stellar bass playing by Jah Wobble - is a fairly challenging lesson. Everything works well in isolation. When put together and topped off by Lydon's shrill, keening tenor, the whole album sounds like the band is clashing against each other for the full hour. You could almost dance to the songs here given their length and underlying groove, but the top part - that is, Lydon and Levene - make it exceptionally difficult. Even the physical release of this album, released on a triple LP with about 10 minutes of music on each side and stored in an abrasive metal container that slowly wore away at the records, was intended to make this music as challenging as possible for you, the listener. That's why the shortest songs work the best magic on this album: they don't overstay their welcome and the discordant sound is much easier to stomach. I'm not averse to harsh, abrasive music, but Metal Box veers into annoying territory more often than not, especially as John Lydon - whose voice I can only compare to an evil grandmother's - is more subdued and lets the rhythmic, interlocking instrumentals shine. This was a harder listen than I was anticipating even though I liked about half of the songs here. The influence on the post-punk that followed is palpable: for starters, Killing Joke owe a fair bit to this album. To my ears, Public Image Ltd. does have a good album in their catalogue, but it's not this one. I much prefer The Flowers of Romance for its succinctness and punchier sound. Key Tracks: Albatross, Memories, Careering, Socialist

Often considered the North American Syd Barrett, Skip Spence was a founding member of Jefferson Airplane and Moby Grape, but those 2 bands would only prove themselves to be influential psychedelic pioneers after he had left them. Disappearing into obscurity for decades after his wild drug abuse took his mental state as collateral, Spence only managed to release a single album of his own work. This is the result. Listening to it, one would be forgiven for thinking these are unfinished, half-formed approximates for tunes. After all, these were demo tapes that Spence's label decided to put out before his train derailed even further - Spence would apparently refuse to record anything if he even caught sight of a producer in the same studio as him. The songs included on here are sparse to say the least, with Spence having recorded basically the entire thing himself to serve as a framework for a full band later on, though that ultimately never materialized. I see some complaining about it being 90 minutes in length, but the original album is much shorter, closing with the 9 and 1/2 minute "Grey/Afro." Skip's performance on these is serviceable enough though one can evidently hear just how frazzled he was as a person, and just how badly the drugs had vaporized his mind. It shouldn't come as a surprise that, much like Syd Barrett before him, Skip Spence never truly recovered or became fully functional once their time in the sun was over. The acid-charred renditions of these songs belie an incredible songwriting talent that, much like Spence's own performances, barely manage to hang on to competency but pull through with what's left. It leaves a huge cloud of sadness on it, especially if you look into the lyrics, which, admittedly, are actually quite sharp in places: "how many friends can you call your own?" he warbles in the opener "Little Hands." Spence's voice itself drifts between a wistful, reedy upper register and a shockingly heavy baritone that gives everything a very leaden feel, as though the songs are dragging themselves to the end of their runtime. It's clear that, despite being an evidently incomplete piece of music, Oar is an absolutely essential look into the darker side of the 60s as evidence by one of its prime exhibits of the acid craze's collateral damage. Spence's resilience, his willingness to create something, anything, is palpable, and I think its primacy is the main reason so many celebrated artists, from Robert Plant to Mark Lanegan to Tom Waits, banded together to create the 1999 tribute More Oar, which offers a more complete rendition of the songs included here. Spence would unfortunately never see his work celebrated as it was, as his own health issues claimed him in 1992, leaving him a near-forgotten relic of the psychedelic years. Key Tracks: Little Hands, War in Peace, Books of Moses, Grey/Afro

..........I didn't know "The Humpty Dance" was, or needed to be, 6 and 1/2 minutes long. Now that's a song that really benefits from an abridged version. In fact, most of these songs could be cut down by a minute or 2 to make something that has a little more energy to it. All of these mid-tempo grooves are nice in isolation but forcing them to repeat endlessly over a VERY dated old-school flow makes these would-be party anthems into a slog to get through. The "concept" of this record - something about quarter-sized pills for sexual potency, or something like that - is also somewhat lost since each song more or less talks about the exact same thing the exact same way. Despite all those shortcomings, these beats are immaculate especially for the era they came out of, being the tail end of old-old-school hip hop and all. Each one is memorable and wonderfully mixed; it's just a shame that the rhymes can't keep up with them more than half the time. Many of these beats are begging for an MC to recount some crimes or rough story, but they're given the dirty bar treatment basically every time. An important listen to if you want to see where hip hop started really getting ambitious, but you have to be prepared to listen to the same type of bars a whole lot. Also a pretty racy album lyrically, which wasn't out of the ordinary even at the time but you can expect straight up moaning on the beat like in "Freaks of the Industry." Key Tracks: The Humpty Dance, The Way We Swing, Gutfest '89, Freaks of the Industry

For some reason, Elliott Smith always eluded me. I had tried in 5-minute increments to get into at least 1 of his many acclaimed albums but never could. Maybe it was too late at night, where I find this type of dreary songwriting works best, maybe it's that the whole thing sounds so hushed, as though Smith doesn't want to wake anyone up by recording this, maybe it's the inscrutable lyrics hidden in the mix, covered by the double tracked vocal performances. In any case, this was my first serious attempt to listen to the apparently unmissable catalogue of one Elliott Smith, and while it's not as good as the hype would indicate, it's also not this total snoozefest of sad guy with guitar that the opener had me think it would be. Smith's songwriting is well-known for its introverted approach. Taking cues from Nick Drake a generation prior, Smith weaves in these wonderful little images throughout every song that really makes the songs stick out in my mind. There's some louder, rockier bits here and there too, which keeps things interesting for the admittedly short runtime of this album. It's a very hushed performance to be sure, and I think that really sells just how internally focused this album is. Much of this is about isolation, depression, insecurity, all topics perfect for the sensitive and measured approach this album takes. I guess it works there. I personally found myself waiting for some more energetic moments to come in, and there's definitely a few of them here. Maybe it's just what I'm used to, and maybe I'm just not used to this kind of indie folk/rock/singer-songwriter thing. I do respect albums this vulnerable and raw a fair bit though, so that definitely brings this album up a peg - or several. Perfect music for contemplating yourself long past midnight. Key Tracks: Ballad of Big Nothing, Pictures of Me, No Name No. 5, Cupids Trick

I had never, NEVER, heard of this lady before this list. A little digging into her career tells me not only did this debut win the UK's Mercury Prize, but that she was given an MBE for her services to music. All this despite her only releasing 2 albums, and the more recent one of them being released 20 years ago! Honestly I'm kind of impressed that someone whose career would otherwise be a footnote in UK hip hop was given as many accolades as her in such a short time. Upon listening to this album cover to cover, I immediately think of 2 things: Lauryn Hill and Destiny's Child. While both are fair and respectable influences given the 2002 release date, it does present a glaring problem: neither of them are Ms. Dynamite. Despite doing her best to make these beats her own, Ms. Dynamite herself unfortunately doesn't stick out of the miry early 2000s R&B instrumental even if she presents something slightly different in her sing-rapping. Lyrically there's a lot of boasting that comes off kind of preachy, which is also the biggest issue I have with Lauryn Hill's Miseducation album. The preachiness is mainly about how much better these women are than their contemporaries, like they've mastered the art of being women artists while the others haven't. Sort of weird impression that I get from them. Anyway, the instrumentals here are all very dated and kind of indistinct compared to the tons of other similarly lowkey hip hop that was coming out (maybe it wasn't as common in the UK?) Though it's fine on its own, the attempt to make this into a seminal album is kind of strange in hindsight; it's as if the critics whose opinions formed this list never got the memo that, in the near quarter-century since this release, Ms. Dynamite has been squarely placed in the Arrested Development section of hip hop history. Key Tracks: Dy-Na-Mi-Tee, Put Him Out, It Takes More

Brilliantly produced indietronica, perfectly constructed dance songs for people who don't dance, and the equivalent of that one scene in the Barbie movie where the main Barbie questions mortality in the middle of a dance party. These are all the things I think of when I hear the rave-siren beats of Sound of Silver, an album I honestly wish I was there for. There's definitely something very 2000s about this, but the songs' structures themselves are timeless. I honestly feel as though songs like "Someone Great" could have been written in practically any era of popular music. It's even more true with that universally applicable message of "All My Friends:" as we get older, we tend to lose valuable platonic connections with not just friends, but others in our community as a whole, and our world shrinks at the time when we could allow it to expand the most. It's a cold, dejected irony that's been injected in basically every song - peep the snarky sardonics of "North American Scum" and "Watch the Tapes" (in my opinion, the only real dud song on this. The rest of the tracks more than make up for it.) "All My Friends" in particular is an absolute homerun of a track. It could have been written in 1967, 1987, 2007, 2027 or 2057 for all I care, and it works in every last one of those eras because ageing is just a natural - and terrifying - thing that happens to us all (if we're lucky...) The thing is, it's terrifying until it actually happens, which is, what I feel, the whole thesis of this album. Don't worry about what inevitably happens, because you'll just scare yourself twice. Dance as badly as you want to because, if you're ever embarrassed about yourself, just remember that no one will remember it anyway. In many ways, this is neither optimistic nor pessimistic as an album; its outlook is realistic, which I find so refreshing since it ties in so well with how organic these beats are. James Murphy is a master of mixing and the art of rhythm building - just check the opener "Get Innocuous" and the album's crown jewel "All My Friends" for the best examples of his work. It feels like an actual band is playing this live in studio despite how carefully curated and measured it all is. I think what I'm getting at is this is an album full of contradictions that normally clash but blend perfectly on this pillar of 2000s indie electronica. An album that can only come from experience and some years of wisdom, which Murphy had quite a bit of compared to many of his less well-remembered contemporaries. Progress might look slow, and you might feel late compared to your peers, but it will always, ALWAYS pay off in the end, I suppose. Key Tracks: Get Innocuous!, Someone Great, All My Friends, Sound of Silver

Something something Big Lebowski having a rough night and hating the Eagles. I actually went into this expecting to really dislike it (nothing to do with the movie, everything to do with overplay) but the songs are actually quite well-written despite how...self-important(?) the more serious songs are. This album works best when it's light and easy-going, like on "Life in the Fast Lane," the other monster single from this LP after the title track. I actually felt I had to skip the title track opener to get an authentic feel for this album and not to dampen my expectations, and I think it actually helped my assessment of this album. Sonically, this is as commercial as rock gets in this era, but for a soft rock album, it does actually hit hard in some places. Most of these songs have an actual pulse, which so much of the mushy, cloudy-soft shlock of this era didn't have (there are a couple of ballads guilty of this even on this album...) A pretty enjoyable album if you want something conventional, but I feel it's included here for its massive commercial reach rather than for anything innovative. Plenty of bands did the country-tinged rock with a soft side thing in this era, but it's hard to justify any of those contemporary groups when you have a band that at one point had the literal best-selling album in the world. Actually, I've always found it funny that the best-selling US band is called Eagles, because of course they would be! If someone wrote a movie about a fictional USA, they'd accuse that plot point of being too on the nose. Key Tracks (besides the title:) Life in the Fast Lane, Victim of Love, The Last Resort

This is a pretty hard one to rate. It's a balls-to-the-wall roller coaster ride of an album that starts up firing on about 3/4 of its cylinders and immediately blasts them all by the time of the second song, rarely letting up after that. The result is a surprisingly fun romp through a throbbing, vibrating noise rock wind tunnel. Does it help make any of the songs distinct and memorable? Not at all. Is it as fun of a time as you're going to get in the otherwise extremely serious and unfriendly world of noise rock? Probably so. This album is apparently a duo's effort, but you wouldn't know it considering how full the tracks are. There's always little electronic details and some surprisingly catchy bits that seem to flit and dash about on most of the songs here. I can best compare it to the math rock band Hella if they decided to stop changing times every bar. This is definitely the type of album that forgoes technique and, really, all nuance, in exchange for raw power and virile energy. Perfect for driving way too fast while this album plays way too loud (please don't try this at home.) Key Tracks: Assassins, 2 Towers, Crown of Storms

From noise rock to this: talk about genre whiplash! Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you see it) I can't help but laugh when I hear "I Hear the Earth Move" start up. I always think of Mary Roach doing a...questionable rendition of this otherwise-brilliant song on American Idol. Carole King was famously a songwriting titan and hitmaker for several others, but she proves here she can more than carry her own weight when she's allowed to tackle her own material on her own terms. It's very safe and measured 70s pop to be sure, and nothing really matches the incredible energy the opener brings. This isn't to say King isn't giving it her absolute all on most of these songs, because I never knew she had this much voice in her; that was a pleasant surprise! Tapestry came out of the CSNY, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell school of elaborate lyrics mixed with folksy instrumentation, but I can't help but feel the individuality has been sucked out of this album by its production. If this wasn't resident established hitmaker Carole King singing, the album would likely disappear into the void of the countless 70s pop albums that aped it. I chalk it up to the effect of King writing songs for so many different and disparate artists that the album struggles to find a unified voice, though it evidences King's own versatility at the same time. To me, there just isn't much to dive into past the mega hit singles and the album suffers from being too perfect; I mean, even the Carpenters tried to sound warm and human on their records! The slow to medium pacing of most of the tracks also doesn't help restore the much-needed colour. A fine enough performance from Carole King herself, but the name value carries this album to its notoriety in my eyes. Key Tracks: I Feel the Earth Move, Beautiful, Where You Lead

Packing more ideas in a single album than many artists do in their entire catalogues, Vespertine is Bjork's wintry, snowbound take on love and intimacy. It's so open and vulnerable you almost feel uncomfortable listening in on her admittedly quite explicit depictions of these themes: I mean, how else can you describe what's going on in "Cocoon?" There's a very big emphasis on an insular and personal sonic palette, which was a fairly big departure from the previous album Homogenic, which was sweeping and grandiose in every sense of the word. Here, Bjork uses small ambient sounds like footsteps in snow or shuffling cards to craft wonderfully intricate beats that grab the listener's attention every time. And that's even before she starts whooping and exclaiming and somersaulting all over the vocal lines in these songs. This is easily one of the defining performances of her career, and though I place it third in the pantheon of Big 3 Bjork Albums - my personal list is Homogenic, then Post, then this one - Vespertine is still a one of a kind experience that transports you to a world of frosted glass and warm cozy days spent out of the cold (in more ways than one...!) Key Tracks: Hidden Place, It's Not Up to You, Pagan Poetry, Unison

Rap was the last genre I really "got;" even past my teen years of considering anything without guitars non-music, I struggled to get into a genre that I believed, for many years, was not made for me and could thus not be understood by me. I think Midnight Marauders was the first time a rap album well and truly clicked with me. This album is a lot more joyous than that one. In many ways, it feels like a celebration of success, the end result of a desire to share joy with the world after winning the proverbial lottery. This is the kindest, most pure-hearted hip hop release I've ever listened to, and while not every song is completely perfect or memorable, there's more than enough here to mark this as a standout release of 2000s hip hop. A nice cast of features, including Johns Mayer and Legend, and the completely uncontroversial Kanye, round out the brilliantly produced tracks. I'm not sure how often I'll return to this but it's a very pleasant listen that leaves a listener with a smile on their face. Key Tracks: The Corner, The Food, Real People,

My first go-around with Elvis Costello didn't go so great, so let's see how I feel about this one. Having listened to it cover to cover, I can definitely say I enjoyed this one more than the previous one, Armed Forces. I don't think I'll ever get over Costello's voice - it's just so thin, so reedy, the lyrics it sings so irritatingly self-aware. It's the audio equivalent of an irony-poisoned 50s rock and roller, or if Buddy Holly merged with Randy Newman. The songs on this one really ape that 50s ish sound as well, with a mix of 60s R&B sprinkled in to create whatever proto-new wave/pub rock thing he's doing on this apparently solo release. Can't say most of the songs here are that memorable. In the true 1950s spirit, Costello has gone for the "collection of random songs that had varying degrees of success collected onto an LP disc" approach to creating an album. I can't really comment on how well it works especially in an era where the cohesive narrative album format was at its best. All in all this is another acceptable yet unremarkable Elvis Costello album that wormed its way into this list for some reason. I really think there should have been some kind of limit on the number of albums a given artist could have. Otherwise, half of this list would just be this guy, Dylan, Bowie and the Beatles.

Despite never having heard of this group or this album, I must say I was pleasantly surprised. This is a very varied piece that journeys from chamber music to folk rock to plain old indie and back again, and I can definitely see why something so eclectic would garner as much acclaim as it did in indie circles - Pitchfork (for whatever their opinion is worth) named it among their favourites of its release year, 2003. That year alone shocked me, because this sounds about 10 years ahead of that. It honestly wouldn't sound out of place in a best-of list in any year from 2010 to 2014. Musically I guess the closest thing I could pinpoint it to would be something like alt-country, but it sounds slightly too folksy for that. Some like to say there's a Tex-Mex thing going on here and while I can sometimes hear it in the horns the album really doesn't stay in one place long enough for you to pin it down just right. It's both a blessing and a curse, because the album is eclectic to a fault. It's fine to include electronics, acoustics, folk melodies, zydeco, indie rock, and whatever else, but in the end the listener is always going to try and find what exactly the artist and their artistic statement is actually about. And after a full listen of this thing, I can't find it. It doesn't help that the album's production sounds very muffled and "live," but not in a good way. This sounds like they put a boom mic above the band while they were playing live in some bar before opening time. As a result, the singer - whose lyrics are supposed to be witty and snarky to justify the high Pitchfork score - is often buried under the instrumentation. It's a perfectly acceptable album on its own, and you certainly won't find too much like it in the indie sphere; my final assessment is that it's a loose and pleasant romp through a lot of disparate styles, which leaves it an unfocused product of its time. Despite all that, it also somehow succeeds in both sounding ahead of its time and very much of its time. A record full of contradictions, some of which work, and others don't.

With a tracklist that reads like a greatest-hits collection and some utterly stellar performances from everyone involved, it's no surprised that Cosmo's Factory is widely considered to be Creedence's best album. It still astounds me that John Fogerty got this much top-tier music out in such a short time. I mean, the man secured a 60-year legacy in less than 4 years of recorded output! A lot of it had to do with the utterly atrocious contract the band had signed with Fantasy Records (180 masters in 10 years = 18 songs a year = 2 to 3 Creedence albums a year, after all) but the quality was so consistently high, and that cannot have come easily for Fogerty. His one of a kind songwriting is out in full force here - I think the ubiquity of Creedence's music and its emphasis on traditionalism really gives these songs a timeless quality. There's just a special something here that makes the songs sound like they've always existed, that Creedence is just covering a bunch of folk tunes from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Several of the songs are indeed covers (how else are you going to pad that 180-masters stat?) but each one is delivered in a distinctly Creedence way and makes them just as essential as their original output. You don't need to look further than the searing 11 minute rendition of "Grapevine" to figure that one out. Among the originals, Creedence was evidently trying their hand at harder edged and more outgoing songwriting. The album opener (and my all-time favourite song of theirs) "Ramble Tamble" is dominated by this swirling, psychedelic riff that builds and builds as it's bookended by a bouncy old-time intro and outro. It was completely unlike anything this group had tried before or since, and I will always argue for it being their most daring song. The traditional songs are just as good here: check the big hits, of which there are plenty ("Lookin' Out My Back Door," "Up Around the Bend," "Who'll Stop the Rain.") And there's one more I always felt was an unsung hero of this album: "Run Through the Jungle," which you might recognize from its appearance in The Big Lebowski. A timely song in every sense of the world - and hardly the first Vietnam song Fogerty wrote - it's got a decidedly standard middle section, but there's an overwhelming sense of menace throughout it, from the noisy guitar intro to the harmonica solo played as though a lone soldier stands out in an empty field, waiting for a brave foe to start shooting at him. Menace is NOT a word I had ever associated with Creedence before or since hearing this song, but it's definitely there. Even a sentimental ballad closer doesn't bring the energy down. Rock bands and ballads were always a hard sell for me, as precious few could ever write and perform a convincing one. Fogerty is among the elite few, "As Long As I Can See the Light" being the defining lighters-out moment of the CCR catalogue. It offers a sense of hope that had become vanishingly rare for the band in this era as creative frustrations and personal tensions tore the band apart one day at a time. Creedence's next 2 albums didn't have anything close to the ambition and spirit as was found on Cosmo's Factory. Pendulum was fine enough and gave them a couple more big singles, but the less said about Mardi Gras, the better. This was, in every way except chronological, Creedence's parting gift to the world, released at a time when, in the wake of the Beatles' breakup, they had been made the biggest band in the world for the briefest of moments. Key Tracks: Ramble Tamble, Run Through the Jungle, Up Around the Bend, I Heard It Through the Grapevine

Another high point of alt rock from the year that genre reach its peak, 1994. If grunge was a reaction against the overblown and polished AOR and glam of the 80s, this type of indie rock was a reaction against the arena-filling, self-destructive antics of the grunge headliners. Pavement construct with these inexplicably competent pop songs using nothing more than duct tape, wire, paper clips and well wishes. The loose, IDGAF attitude of these songs might turn some off, but that's sort of the entire point - a listener has to work around those barbed outer layers to make it to the warm inner core of this album. If there's one word I could use to describe this album, it's "ramshackle." Every song sounds like it's about to fall apart on the spot if not for a well-placed riff or new verse from snarky songwriter extraordinaire Stephen Malkmus. The lyrics are quite literate but they're so obtuse and veiled in irony you could probably spend the day picking apart what the stream of consciousness verses are talking about. I think it's beside the point to look for lyrical themes in Pavement songs really, because most of them were written with that same attitude that they draw their sound from. Figure out the lyrics if you can, but if you spend all that time to figure out they mean nothing, that's on you for falling for it... That could very easily be attributed to the typical dejected Gen X aesthetic, which this album has in spades. But there's also a genuine sincerity on this - for one, there are some sentimental (?) songs on here. Well, they sound that way at least, especially "Stop Breathin" and "Range Life." There's some genuine rock out moments here which I find a lot of less abrasive alternative and early indie rock doesn't get right. Some good examples here are the "hit" single "Cut Your Hair" and the crashout blaze of glory that is "Unfair." An excellent document of indie rock released right at the moment the genre was coming into its own and separating from the mainstream of alternative rock. Yes indeed, this is the alternative to the alternative. Key Tracks, Silence Ki(d)(t), Elevate Me Later, Unfair, Range Life, Fillmore Jive

Here's another surprising one: a DNB album that won the Mercury Prize! That's probably something that won't ever be seen again, because electronic music is rarely given the time of day at stuffy, pompous award shows like those. What's a little less surprising is that the Mercury Prize would go out to an electronic album as ordinary and conservative as this. You won't find any drastic innovations in any of the 78 minutes that make up this album. And with a genre as samey as DNB, whose small intricacies are key to keeping the genre fresh and relevant, this release really feels like a slog by the time you're halfway through it. So much of it is the same old same old - the sped-up Amen Break combined with whatever minimalist trip-hop instrumental they could fine, with a distorted voice or 2 thrown in for good measure. There are a few highlights but this album will generally feel in one ear out the other. It doesn't help that the songs are mostly 3 minutes too long; it's clear they were trying to capture that dancefloor feel, but the songs are too jazzy and subdued to really work as backing tracks for a strobe lights and glowsticks rave. That's not to say the album is all bad, as there's at least a couple of noteworthy pieces on here. Most of them are in the first half though, and you'll be waiting a while to catch some memorable moments for the rest of this already overlong album. All I can say is the inclusion of Mercury Prize winners no one remembers speaks a lot of the UK-centric bias this list can have at times. It's not always there, but it's kind of glaring when it is...It's the musical equivalent of putting every Best Picture winner in a list of seminal movies: some of them just aren't as great as they were at the time.

You would never know it, but Tina Turner was at somewhat of a crossroads when she made this album, now considered the defining statement of her solo career. This was her first release following the long overdue divorce from Ike Turner, and Tina had never truly been out on her own and quite so openly vulnerable before. At 45, most had assumed her career highlights were all in the past. Little did they know, Ms. Turner (if you're nasty) had another 20 years or so left to give. As a musical document, this album is contemporary R&B to a fault. Full of the classic gated reverb sound and the instantly recognizable (and cringeworthy depending on who you ask) synth leads covering almost every track. Everything here has the cutting edge studio sheen on it in an attempt to bring Tina Turner, at the time considered an elder stateswoman with a peak in the 60s, into the modern age. Though hilariously dated by today's standards, this album did indeed give Tina Turner a second wind she so needed following the 15 prior years of turmoil she had experienced. Most of the racier songs here are also effective despite her being slightly out of the typical singers' demographic for such material (older means more experience people!) So this album is a lot of things, a mid to late career triumph that gave an icon decades of relevancy and an accurate document of the era's popular sound. It's proof no one was ever too old to make it, even for a second time, or to be considered beautiful, sexy, desirable, or whatever other superlative you'd like. Above all else, it's got some very subtle but poignant messaging related to Turner's mindset and the endless fortitude and resiliency she needed to reach this second career peak. Quite the impressive album even if not every song is completely perfect; Tina herself never was, from her lopsided, exaggerated fashion sense to her one of a kind voice. Key Tracks: What's Love Got to Do with It, I Can't Stand the Rain, Private Dancer, Let's Stay Together

Jimi Hendrix and Jethro Tull. Jethro Tull and Jimi Hendrix. Those were my dad's 2 favourite bands of his era, and for very different reasons. Jimi was for the guitar virtuosity, but Tull was for something else entirely. And that's really what Jethro Tull was: where else in rock - or in all of popular music - could one find a tree-posing, flute-playing, codpiece-wearing Shakespearean bard frontman but in the world of progressive folk rock? Ian Anderson truly is a one of a kind talent, not only for his eccentricity but also for the arrangements found on this, his defining band's breakout album. Though slightly edged out by Thick as a Brick in my mind, Aqualung is still my sentimental favourite in the Tull catalogue. From the wide cast of characters depicted in the main pieces, to the underlying sardonic dismissal of broader society, to the religious-but-anti-religious theme that runs throughout this album. Aqualung is a Dickensian retelling of northern England as it was in the late 60s and early 70s, and Ian Anderson's experience living in that era and coming form quite similar backgrounds as the downtrodden he sings of in these songs, more than likely informed the character pieces. Let's not forget about the incredible guitar theatrics of Martin Barre, who only needs to solo on the opening title track to prove his status as Anderson's right hand. I will forever consider him one of the unsung heroes of rock guitar. In all fairness, it's hard to stand out when your frontman is playing a 7-minute flute solo standing on one leg. The album itself is divided into halves, one about the miserable, poverty-stricken world of Aqualung - named for his heavy, rasped breathing - and the peers who surround him. There's the kindly schoolgirl Cross Eyed-Mary, the bold madam Mother Goose, and, in the second half, Locomotive Breath, named for his smoking habit. Locomotive Breath only appears in the later half (and features the best flute solo of Anderson's career, by the way,) but the B-side of Aqualung is more focused on the religious justification for inequality and oppression. The sprawling "My God," "Hymn 43" and "Wind-Up" are big on the damning religious imagery Anderson had rejected even in his youth, as he saw most of the justification as a cheap excuse to keep the poors in line while the haves could continue exploiting the have-nots. You know, typically prog, in a political sense as much as a rock one. Anderson remains fond of this album, but he certainly wasn't fond of what came after: the music press lumping him in with Yes and Genesis, whose brand of grandiose rock pranced around in Fairy Land. Anderson's biting, folksy style was always much more gritty, grounded and realistic than theirs, and that more than anything else was what separated Jethro Tull from the rest of their contemporaries (besides all the other things.) It was this resentment that created the brilliant followup to this, Thick as a Brick (which I sincerely hope appears on this list...) Overall, if there's one Jethro Tull album to listen to, one would do very well listening to this one only. It's got everything that makes Tull great, all in one place, with catchy, punchy songs to boot. Equal parts progressive, folk and all out rocking, Aqualung is a true standout even as more than half a century has passed since its release. Key Tracks: Aqualung, Mother Goose, My God, Locomotive Breath

The career-defining album from the world's greatest bar band. AC/DC will never make any claims to being a thinking man's band, but Bon Scott's edition of the group had a sly wit to them that was completely lost by the time they did a couple of albums with Brian Johnson. Highway to Hell has easily some of their best material, even beyond the mega-hit and immortal rock radio staple that is the title track. Even the lesser singles like "Girl's Got Rhythm" have this incredibly jaunty and fun quality to them. The deeper cuts though, don't really do anything for me. One thing is for sure though: Brian Johnson's boneheaded edition of the band would never write songs with as many layers as "Night Prowler," a song that famously incited controversy when a murder suspect was quoted saying it was his favourite song by the band. That amazing closer aside, the blues power chords do wear thin on some of the lesser played songs, and Scott's voice is keening and can certainly get grating after a while, but you just have to think of it as a small intimate club performance but expanded to arena size scales. The album is also an incredibly succinct 41 minutes, and not one of the songs overstays its welcome by any stretch of the imagination. This is among the best hard rock of its era, and if AC/DC's name wasn't fully associated with the lewd old man Brian Johnson era, this would be respected a whole lot more for its immense wit and timeless rock and roll appeal. Key Tracks (besides the title:) Girls' Got Rhythm, Touch too Much, Shot Down in Flames, Night Prowler

Ah yes, the Cars. No "classic" band has ever made me go "oh THEY sing that song from my childhood I could never pin down on anyone!" more times than them. It's that anonymity that made listening to them a kind of non-starter in my listening journeys. Their big hits were just enough for me. Now, having listened to their debut - and, per most lists, their best album - I can't say my opinion has changed much. There's some good deep cuts here, but none have nearly enough of the spark and oomph that those first 3 opening singles have. It's an uphill battle this album has to fight, that matching of the same fire as those singles. There's one gem past the singles I would say, the closer, "All Mixed Up," which I found to be quite a departure for the otherwise very standard new wave sound. "You're All I've Got Tonight" is also an underrated track that should have been a bigger hit. I wouldn't mind hearing that one once in a while on rock radio. The Cars had a reputation for playing very mechanical gigs, and, somehow, that same assembly line process is apparent in the studio as well. None of the songs are particularly adventurous, or progress in any way other than the most straight-ahead way possible. In a car sense, this is the musical equivalent of a Ford Focus: reliable, dependable, nothing particularly flashy, and gets you from A to B. Expect a smooth trip, but you won't get any joyrides out of this one. I doubt I'm the first person to ever make that comparison. Key Tracks: Good Times Roll, You're All I Got Tonight, All Mixed Up

Classic, almost stereotypical soul-funk grooves are abound on this release. There's some very good sequencing on display here, as the slower ballads lead very well into the energetic tracks. The ballads are treacly sweet with plenty of dreamy lovey-dovey lyrics that go in one ear and out the other. The funk tracks are where it's at on this album, because oh man do these groove! These songs are the antidote to the constant fearmongering, rage baiting media we all consume incessantly these days. I wish more music had that genuine escapist quality. This album was apparently a soundtrack to a movie, but you would never know it as the band has made absolutely no reference of it here (possibly because the movie wasn't all that great...? I wouldn't know, I've never seen it.) That said, nothing stands out particularly here. EWF did better on other albums, and the singles are definitely the most worthwhile tracks. EWF are deservedly represented on this list, but I wonder why this album was chosen over the other, much better material they have in their catalogue. Key Tracks: Shining Star, Happy Feelin,' Africano

Linkin Park is a band I can only compare to a roller coaster: while it may look daunting and dangerous from an outside perspective, actually getting on the ride proves it's one of the safest adrenaline rush providers accessible to the general public. Hybrid Theory is such an album: it's Linkin Park emerging as a band fully formed, and though they would change up their sound with each subsequent release, nothing they did ever truly deviated from the formula established on this auspicious debut. The late great Chester Bennington is the standout performance on here, with his shockingly versatile voice moving from huge aggressive screams to delicate tenor crooning across the album's tracks. The rest of the band kind of blends in together, all thanks to the excellent production of co-frontman and 2000s rapper Mike Shinoda (I mention the decade here because his style really hasn't changed since the year 2003.) The singles here are a step above the rest of the deep cuts here, but there are some very strong contenders on here, "Points of Authority" being among the best of the non-hits. The most distinct thing about the actual instrumentation is how seamlessly everything is mixed, from the nu-metal posturing to the industrial sampling courtesy of the in-band DJ (just another thing to set them apart) and the very earnest hip-hop rhyming. Linkin Park, in this manner, remind me of Motorhead. Where the former attracted hip hop fans, nu-metal fans, and broad radio listeners, Motorhead did the same a generation earlier with punk, blues, and metal fans. That's probably where similarities between the bands end. Reaching across the aisle is important in music, after all. This isn't to say everything on here is great: the more aggressive passages are products of their time in every sense of that term, and the overly earnest and vulnerable lyricism and performances invite a some mockery (I can't hear "Crawling" without thinking of that one meme that goes CRAWLING IN MY CRAWL, THESE CRAWLS THEY WILL NOT CRAWL...) Maybe that's just me. Linkin Park are from the Korn school of vulnerable nu-metal, with their confessional lyrics that made them a darling of kids going through their first trials as they matured. You can't ask much more of an album than that. Despite all those flaws, this is a landmark album and signalled the emergence of a new type of rock as the format entered the 21st century. It's an album as culturally, historically and aesthetically significant as anything else in the Library of Congress' current registry. Key Tracks: One Step Closer, Points of Authority, Runaway, In the End

A very solid debut from the artsiest of the British glam rock groups. It's still a little rough around the edges but there's a lot of really interesting choices being made. For one, Bryan Ferry hasn't found his Bizarro-World crooner style yet so he's kind of doing whatever feels right on each song. Brian Eno is really the one filling out the gaps with the several bizarre noises and fills he puts in: just check the crazed opener "Re-Make/Re-Model" for proof of all of the above. The other glaring item on this album is that incredibly loud sax that hovers all over everything, which makes this album part free jazz, part glam rock, part ambient electronics. Needless to say, this is a very interesting mix of elements going on here, mostly brought by the eternal frenemies Bry(i)ans Ferry and Eno. This album is one that's very hard to forget, though not every song will hit. It's also quite progressive: just look at "Ladytron," which gets 3 distinct movements in and out of the listener's view in 4 and 1/2 minutes. If you can't stomach the whole thing for all of its wild directions, I would suggest going for the A-side on its own. The B-side veers a little too heavily into the progressive electronic krautrock kind of thing that kind of detracts from the degraded-glam atmosphere Roxy was so great at creating. The band would refine the many elements found here on later releases, but they never again displayed them all at once in full force as they did here. Key Tracks: Re-Make/Re-Model, Ladytron, Virginia Plain, Chance Meeting

Yes, RATM are part of the machine. Yes, most of their political messaging is purely liberal posturing that isn't intended to bring about actual change. Let's not forget, this is a band that was heavily promoted by a major record label, one of the biggest capitalist machines this band is supposedly raging against. And yes, about half of this band's Wikipedia pages have their parents' names in blue. All of this has somewhat coloured my perception of this band and placed them squarely in the "controlled opposition" category for me. It's always somewhat harder to dissociate the political leanings when the entire band is predicated their politics. That said, this is actually a great album. Lots of excellent riffing as Tom Morello still had some restraint with his effects - I could never get into Audioslave because his solos often devolved into the sound of Nintendo cartridges getting a little too intimate. Zach de la Rocha is also a terrifically charismatic frontman, and, to my ears, he's the really the one who believes in everything he raps about. Truly the heart and soul of this band. The rhythm section is also thoroughly on point - Commerford proves to be incredibly underrated and Wilk lends a live energy to all of the beats. This album genuinely feels like a live performance captured on tape, slightly enhanced by the studio, but never loses its radical spirit. The messaging, of course, isn't all that radical, but it was certainly a change of scene from the rest of the early 90s, which had fully embraced pro-capitalist Cold War propaganda. In an era of resoundingly neoliberal policymaking, a left of center band shouting about the white supremacist underpinning of US policing seemed extremist by comparison, and that certainly couldn't have been the easiest thing to get on radio at the time. But "Killing in the Name" was a hit! I don't think you would ever see anything like that outside of the 90s - basically everything and anything could be a hit in that decade. The album sort of trails off in the second half for me as the Rage sound is great for 5 songs or so, but 50 minutes of similar buildups, riffs, and shouty lyrics wears thin on me. I definitely understand this album's importance, and RATM have rightfully earned their place in rock history, but their sound works best in small doses. Otherwise, you get lost in the sauce of same-sounding songs. Key Tracks: Killing in the Name. Wake Up, Freedom

The second studio effort from the not-so-little band from Montreal's Mile End that unexpectedly transformed indie rock forever. The sound on their sophmore effort is somehow even more sweeping and grandiose than the revolutionary debut, Funeral, but the sonic palette is also more restrained at the same time. Essentially, a select few elements from Funeral carried over to Neon Bible, and everything that did was blown up to stadium size. The songwriting and sequencing is much the same as it was on the debut as well, with the best songs bookending the first and last couple of tracks. In typical CD-era fashion, I find the album to be somewhat sunken in the middle as tracks blend into each other due to the more selective composition choices from the band. All this is to say not everything on Neon Bible hits, but the hits go very hard. Take the closer "My Body is a Cage" and the huge pipe organ crush of "Intervention," for example. Arcade Fire even proves they can still write more conventional indie songs as seen on "The Well and the Lighthouse" and the only song I recognized from this album "Keep the Car Running." The only song that really resembles what they had done before is "No Cars Go" with all its accordion melancholy and marching band buildup. It's a song that inches towards a Godspeed You Black Emperor type of buildup, which isn't completely far-fetched as funeral was recorded at Godspeed's H2T studio in Montreal. I feel like I've heard before, and not because it's the second car-themed song on this album. I don't have too much else to say about this except that this is a purer, more distilled Arcade Fire, a more straightforward interpretation of the band and the indie sound that marked a generation. Listen to Funeral for the full experience, and Neon Bible if you like only the biggest moments off the debut. Key Tracks: Keep the Car Running, Intervention, The Well and the Lighthouse, No Cars Go

.....The opener "I.G.Y." and "New Frontier" are pretty good songs. That's about all I can say about this album. This is the third time this list has given me something from the Steely Dan realm, and only Aja was really worth it. 2 to 3 good songs in a sea of beige, flavourless tracks does not a seminal album make. Sure, everything is prim and polished and every note is in the right place, but it's the insipid combination of proto-Kenny G smooth jazz and middle-of-the-road pop rock that grinds me down. I feel like I'm constantly teleporting between a waiting room and some rich snob's yacht listening to this. There are some occasional fun moments on this album, but nothing truly sticks, so most of the songs end up disappearing from my memory the instant they're done (barring the 2 big singles of course, those are, again, the only worthwhile tunes here.) This is definitely an album for the Steely Dan diehards - casual listeners can leave this one alone and just listen to "I.G.Y." and "New Frontier." However, it seems the critics from whom this list was compiled were Steely Dan diehards.... Key Tracks: I.G.Y., New Frontier, The Nightfly

Bjork's best album since Vespertine, and her latest high-quality release to date. Inspired by a breakup with her longtime partner, Bjork goes for the art-poppiest art pop possible, full of strings and long, drawn-out beats that easily stretch all of the songs past the 6-minute mark, with only 2 exceptions. In typical Bjork fashion, the beats take inspiration from the IDM acts that influenced her years prior as they skitter, glitch and jump all over the the strings that sweep over the album like a massive migratory bird formation. It's not all uniform though: songs like "Notget" have a distant folk influence - Chinese in this track's case - and the following song, "Atom Dance," features a warped ANHONI guest feature as the watery beat splashes around the plaintive string backing. The 2 shorter songs, "History of Touches" and the closer "Quicksand" condense the full electric fury of the breakup into less than 6 minutes total with their huge, violent drum patterns. The second half is honestly a lot more interesting than the first, so long as the clashing musical styles are more interesting to the listener than the utter sorrow communicated in the first half. To my ears, that second half conveys the clashing emotions following the end of a relationship much better than the lonesome sadness of the first 4 tracks. Best among those is the opener "Stonemilker," as that first track provides the full thesis of the album as the many elements it introduces are further developed in subsequent tracks. I had listened to this album several years ago and not remembered very much of it at that time, so this was a very welcome revisit: I didn't expect to like this album as much as I ended up liking it. Definitely a later-career triumph for Bjork, and while her voice has definitely aged in the years since her peak years, it hasn't lost any of its emotional weight. Key Tracks: Stonemilker, Family, Atom Dance, Mouth Mantra

This debut album from the most all-American band of all time certainly shows some promise, but it's too rough around the edges to recommend outside of the big hits "Breakdown" and "American Girl." Nothing else stands out besides those 2 songs, and the very first-draft songwriting makes this apparent major label come across as a small-town high school band making a record with their pocket money. Most of the non-hits sound like they came out of some coming-of-age family movie from the late 70s or early 80s. I guess this is well and truly the "heartland rock" sound played to a T. Petty himself also doesn't seem to have found his voice yet - here, he sounds like Gregg Allman getting over a cold. I find that his songwriting style works best when there's a tension or energy just under the surface, and that's something that's largely absent on this paint-by-numbers release. Except for that last song, "American Girl," basically everything here is played as plainly and paint-by-numbers as possible. Not sure if something so uninventive is really so must-listen. Key Tracks: Breakdown, Strangered by the Night, American Girl

I always used to confuse this band with Ultravox and UB42 for some reason. Even now those 3 are intertwined in my mind, though none of them have anything in common save names starting with U. Anyway, I've never listened to a full LP from these guys, so I had no clue this was one of those dumb-but-we're-self-aware pop punk groups. Unfortunately, I can't say I like this kind of thing very much. The singer sounds like a cross between Jello Biafra and Joe Strummer, and the instrumentation is mostly restricted to a vaguely upbeat surf-rock sort of vibe. This is rather unremarkable pop-rock with some extra voltage pumped in, nothing less and certainly nothing more. You might enjoy it more than I did if you really like the early 80s new wave/pop rock sound, amped up to make it "punk."

Formed from the ashes of the stoner rock giant Kyuss, QOTSA was formed by that former band's guitarist Josh Homme. This was his first attempt at fronting a band, and for a first outing, it's not too bad actually. Sure, Homme's voice needs some work, (the subsequent albums would see him develop his instrument much more) and there's certainly a few songs that could benefit from a little more time in the oven, but the potential is already quite apparent on this debut release. The songs mostly involve some classic hard rock riffing mixed with Josh Homme's soft, undeveloped tenor, and the 2 mix surprisingly well. I can't really compare it to much except later Queens releases. I will say, however, the songwriting gets kind of repetitive as the tracklist cycles between slow and bassy Sabbath worshipping riffs to the more standard ZZ-Top meets a fuzz pedal hard rock. Homme's own vocal lines leave something to be desired as well as he mostly does the weird jumping-intervals thing for every hook. Listen to this if you want to marathon Queens of the Stone Age's discography: for this sound perfected, check out the followup, Rated R. Key Tracks: Regular John, If Only, Walkin on the Sidewalks, Mexicola

I guess James Murphy had the time to read Infinite Jest while LCD Soundsystem was broken up...Released 6 years after the apparent breakup of the groups that put indie's greatest sound engineer on the map, American Dream was almost hailed as a comeback album of sorts. With its title inviting a political bent, a listener might find that the songs contained within don't really address the political or social issues themselves as much as they address the feelings surrounding them. After all, that's what LCD was best at doing: making you dance while worrying as much as possible. Dance music for people who don't dance I like to say. My main issue here is that while previous LCD albums had a strong sense of memorability ingrained in each track, this one has some clear gaps in songs Murphy sank all his effort into. Many of the songs also kind of run overtime - there's more than a few that fly past the 6 or even 7 minute mark that could easily have been trimmed down to 4 or 5. Still, this is a solid comeback effort and it really runs the entire gauntlet of LCD Soundsystem tropes. This album would actually serve as a strong entry point to their rather small catalogue, though it's overlong and doesn't really excel in any one department as the other LCD albums do. Key Tracks: Oh Baby, Other Voices, American Dream, Emotional Haircut

Maybe it's because I'm not American, and maybe it's because Springsteen's heyday was a fair bit before my time, but I never really understood what made "The Boss" so great. I'm told he still has the goods live and puts on a show like nobody else. That's fine and all, but the studio records just read as plain, no-frills rock with a saxophone to my ears, and that's a sound I find instantly dated. It's Tom Petty if decided to start yelling a lot more. And I'll give it to Springsteen, he's shouting for his life out there on these songs. The tracklist reads like a greatest hits compilation, though you might find yourself waiting for a hit single to kick in since the gulf between album cuts and singles is a mile wide. There's one very strong deep cut here, "Downbound Train," which I think could have been a minor single at some point. Despite the pure-hearted rock and roll atmosphere Springsteen was projecting at the time, there's a lot of 80s synth washes and distinctly shiny AOR polish on the production of this thing. You don't have to look further than the keyboard hits on the title track or the very Police-sounding "I'm on Fire," apparently a major hit that I've never heard before listening to this album. There are also some distinctly old-school cool songs here, like "Glory Days," which sounds like it was written by the local small-town band for their prom before a major label swooped in and prettied it up in the studio. It's followed up by the one Springsteen song I can say I like, "Dancing in the Dark." I'm of the opinion that it's the one song where Springsteen does everything I want him to do: he tones down his shouty delivery, lets his immense, stadium-ready chorus writing shine, and creates a danceable, upbeat song. Honestly, my main issue with this album is that so much of it sounds so serious and dour its attempt to be uplifting - the title track is the complete opposite of this though, with its national-anthem posturing combined with its criticism of the military industrial complex. I guess Springsteen was still shaking off Nebraska, released 2 years prior to this arena-rock giant. Probably his most accessible, commercial album, and the best entry point into his glory years catalogue. Key Tracks: Born in the U.S.A., Downbound Train, Dancing in the Dark

I'm very happy that something this indescribably bizarre could get made and also get enough attention to be included on a list like this. If you took all of George Harrison's raga rock pieces and deep-fried them in acid, you might get something similar to the sitar-driven tracks on this. There's some more "conventional" guitar-driven folk songs, but if a song on this album goes past the 4-minute mark, there will be at least 2 tempo changes. It's the progressive undercurrent that pins this album of very disparate people and influences together. I mean, there's a 13-minute song on here that changes up every minute or so! You'd be hard-pressed to find an album more eclectic and varied than this in the 60s British folk scene. Of course, there's a very cultish thing going on, especially with the songs like "Witches Hat" and the 13-minute centerpiece "A Very Cellular Song." The sitar-driven songs like "There Is a Green Crown" does the Indian influence justice, as does the singer who does a pretty serviceable job of imitating the vocal runs and microtones heard in Hindustani classical music. This is an everything-and-the-kitchen-sink kind of album, where the everything is basically any and all string instruments within a 50-mile radius of the band members (where else would they get their name from?) Definitely not something for everyone, but not something whose innovations can be discounted either. Key Tracks: Koeeooaddi There, Witches Hat, A Very Cellular Song, There Is a Green Crown

For my money, the closest thing there is to a greatest album ever made. It checks all of the boxes: commercial success (tens of millions sold, stayed on the top charts for literal decades,) critical acclaim (still finds itself in the top 5-10 albums lists over half a century later,) and a lasting legacy (among the most influential releases when it comes to atmospheric anything, huge universal themes that listeners connect to instantly.) I would say that the one thing that takes away from Dark Side of the Moon is that only about half of the tracks are full songs. The rest are interludes extended to full-length songs, so the album takes a little while to get going and to end after that absolute all-timer of a middle section, which holds all the gold at the end of the rainbow depicted on the cover. Seriously, "Time," "Great Gig," "Money" and "Us and Them" all consecutively is among the best sequencing I've ever heard on an album. The production is also virtually timeless, with only minor tweaks and adjustments having been made over the past several decades. Pink Floyd's legacy is made and broken by this album, and no amount of Roger Waters' political stunts and Gilmour-less redux albums will ever take away from this album's immense legacy. A Voyager record in itself. Key Tracks: Breathe (In the Air,) Money, Us and Them, Brain Damage

The Doors return to fighting form on this release after 2 softer, more subdued releases in Waiting for the Sun and The Soft Parade in the preceding years. Morrison Hotel eschews most of the carnival organ psychedelia that marked the Doors for most of the 60s and exchanges it for the most driving blues rock of their career. That doesn't mean that there aren't more contemplative moments on this album though: the second track "Waiting for the Sun" does an excellent dynamic quiet LOUD quiet build throughout, and "The Spy" slinks around like its titular character in a rainy film noir. The most immediate songs are among the best: opener "Roadhouse Blues" sounds like a bar brawl that quiets down then picks up again after the saloon piano intro of "You Make Me Real." Morrison's voice is an anomaly on this thing: I can't think of another singer whose drinking and drug use continued worsening all while his voice kept improving. It shines best on the last 2 songs of this album as it careens between the warmer than normal baritone of "Indian Summer" to the bearlike growl of the closer "Maggie M'Gill." The Doors' hardest hitting album of their careers was resounding proof that the CIA's favourite psych rock band (if the rumours are to be believed) could hack in the new decade. Morrison Hotel showed a lot of promise that they ended up delivering on in the follow up, "LA Woman," which I like to believe is their best album. It's just a shame they would end up losing Morrison the very next year; at least the band definitely stayed broken up and DEFINITELY didn't make 3 more albums without their image-defining frontman, right...? Key Tracks: Roadhouse Blues, Waiting for the Sun, Peace Frog, Indian Summer

I don't what all the hype is about Mott the Hoople, but it feels like something I would have to be British to understand. It's an example of the UK bias this list sometimes has. I don't hear anything that's an absolute must-listen - it all feels like derivative slightly glammy rock to me. Nothing Bowie or even Slade hadn't done earlier and better. The songs mostly talk about the downsides of fame, glory and having too much money, which, again, was done earlier and better by Roxy Music. It's not to say there's nothing redeeming about this album - the production is quite clean and doesn't have that same dated 70s sound as most other work from this era, but that's about it. Not too much more to say about this rather pedestrian and frankly original glam rock release. This album has that vibe of contractual obligation all over it, and it's inescapable once you get past that actually pretty decent opener.

I think the first thing I noticed about this album is the gulf between Kanye's rapping and production. Kanye was never known as a lyrical genius or an excellent rapper, but his style has been fairly serviceable across his discography. However, any and all innovations Kanye brought to the rap genre come from his immaculate production: he wasn't the first to do the soul sampling over marching hip-hop beats, but he damn sure was the best to ever do it, to the point that few ever tried to replicate that "chipmunk soul" sound after the 2000s came to a close. If the album was instrumental I think it would bring it up a notch or 2 for me honestly. Lyrically, what I can get out of this is a sort of threadline about dropping out of college (hence the title,) aiming for something bigger and better independent of institutions, then finally disregarding and transcending(?) the materialism of those institutions, which ultimately serve to prop up consumer society, which is a pretty unique and noble thing to be rapping about. Kanye was at a crossroads in his life at the time this debut came out, and it seems hip-hop was as well. In the transition between gangsta and bling, there was a brief moment where this soul-influenced conscious style achieved mainstream success. Though its time was ultimately brief, it did set the stage for rap's greatest sound engineer to forge a career of innovations and many, MANY controversies, and it's pretty impressive that a debut album can break as much ground as that. Key Tracks: We Don't Care, All Falls Down, Jesus Walks, Last Call

The Police's final album is their most diverse, their most ambitious, and their least immediate. Though the band's internal turmoil would have probably lit the spark of WW3 if they had stayed together even another year, there's a sort of free-form collaboration going on here. Not everything hits (especially not "Mother") and some of the lyric writing is clunky (especially on "Walking in Your Footsteps") but the album is remarkably consistent outside of those 2 issues. It was clear the Police wanted to go out with a bang; at that point, it feels like their biggest-ever hit in the eternally misunderstood "Every Breath You Take" was intentional. I always get a kick out of hearing that in a romantic context, because the song is, of course, about a stalker. The band's technicality also shines through on several songs, like in the boss-battle 6/4 groove of opener "Synchronicity I" and the philosophical musings of its sequel "Synchronicity II." The band's most vivid lyrical imagery appears on "King of Pain" and "Wrapped Around Your Finger." The production is also distinctly very airy and offers a lot of negative space to let the songs breathe, which I find mostly absent on previous Police releases. All in all this is among the best final albums of a band's career and one of the most ambitious releases from a group as mainstream as they were in the 80s. Few bands ever decide to call it at the very peak of their career and end up as anything more than a "what-if" question decades later. The Police have never had any doubts about their place in pop history, and it's largely because of this album. Key Tracks: Synchronicity I, Synchronicity II, King of Pain, Wrapped Around Your Finger

These days, MTV Unplugged is an old relic of Gen X's eternal quest for "authenticity," whatever that meant at the time. Essentially, the philosophy for this series was that bands could prove their chops by playing undistorted, acoustic sets of their biggest hits. Nirvana's set is far and away one of the best of the bunch, and while there were some genuinely good ones, like Pearl Jam's, Alice in Chains,' Unplugged definitely had more misses than hits (let's try not to remember Korn's set, or even Kiss'...) Nevertheless, Nirvana's acoustic set here reveal something very interesting about Cobain's songwriting: the shocking harmonic complexity hidden just under the surface of the Pixies-worship guitar crush. Seriously, the details of Nirvana songs become so much more apparent when they're played on something other than distorted guitars. I think this album was a necessity to uncover what would otherwise remain hidden for much longer. Cobain's own performance is a career-defining one as his shockingly fragile voice crackles and struggles to soften against the barren instrumentals. It's a powerful contrast that makes him feel almost separate from the rest of the band, as well as the occasional string section that pops in here and there. It's never more apparent than the closer, a cover of Lead Belly's "Where Did You Sleep Last Night." Here, Cobain starts off in a mid-register that seems most appropriate for this old blues tune before he starts screeching and cracking over the still-morose blues riffing. In a way, this was very much his final farewell to live music: Cobain would be found dead not 5 months after it was recorded, and it wouldn't be released until 7 months after that. An important live document to be sure and a solid release on its own, featuring excellent covers of bands like Meat Puppets and the Vaselines, as well as most of their biggest hits. A must-listen to get the understanding of Nirvana's impact on alternative music, and the magnetic persona that created the mythical Kurt Cobain we read about today. Key Tracks: About a Girl, Jesus Don't Want Me for a Sunbeam, All Apologies, Where Did You Sleep Last Night

REM was definitely moving in a rockier direction as the 80s progressed, though this album is more of an in-between moment for the eventual arena rock giants. Here, Stipe's voice is pushed to the forefront of the mix, likely to display his improved confidence and the improvement of his instrument by leaps and bounds since their debut 5 years prior. The arena rock ambitions have become increasingly apparent on this, with the big hits "Stand" and "Orange Crush" incorporating big sing-along choruses that, while still not being the most obvious lyrics, are simple enough for a crowd to catch and recite. The best part of this album is honestly how clean the production is without sacrificing the distinct jangly REM sound. Even the deep cuts are remarkably consistent: peep "Turn You Inside Out" to hear the best of them on this album. While the album does have a pretty high bar for quality, it's a case of a high floor and low ceiling where everything is more or less the same. The album also loses quite a bit of steam after that last deep cut. REM would end up perfecting the sound explored on this album and improve upon it, so this album is best used as an introduction to the several facets of this band. Key Tracks: 89 Pop Song, Stand, Orange Crush, Turn You Inside Out

This was the album that signaled that Michael Jackson, the eventual biggest and most famous pop star in the world - and probably of all time - had well and truly arrived on the pop scene. Nearly half a century later, it's hard to go wrong with most any of the songs on this album. The opening one-two punch of "Don't Stop" and mega-hit "Rock with You" is proof enough that 1979 was peak disco, in no small part thanks to those 2 singles. The songs that follow all keep up the roiling steam engine going, with only some occasional breathers like the relatively tame title track. I'm quite impressed that some of the sexiest songs ever written came from the mind of an uptight, shirt-buttoned-to-the-top Jehovah's Witness (Michael hadn't quite left that whole thing behind him yet.) All in all, this album was the catalyst behind Michael Jackson's superstardom, and even the more low-key B-side takes nothing away from the myth of Michael Jackson. If you wanted to hear the genesis points of the King of Pop's oft-replicated never duplicated style, from staccato interjections to the "hee-hees," this is the place to start (actually, this is, in my mind, Michael Jackson's best album vocally. He never quite matched the performances on here if you ask me.) Key Tracks: Don't Stop Till You Get Enough, Rock with You, Off the Wall, Burn this Disco Out

If my 2 previous ratings of Costello's albums are anything to go by, I was expecting to assign this album a score of "meh." But This Year's Model actually clears the previous album by a pretty wide margin. It's on this album that I finally hear what the press had told me about Costello for decades: there's some brilliant songwriting buried under the nasal cartoon character who wrote and sang them. Some biting wit is woven into the lyrics, all delivered by a dejected faded star persona who, perhaps deliberately, took half of his name from a rock superstar turned burnout. One of my main gripes about the previous Costello albums was that they would jump between genres but always sound stuck in the same place. That simply isn't the case with this album, which seamlessly moves from garage rock to new wave to pop. Needless to say this album has shocked me in more ways than one, and while I got a little tired of the multiple short tracks towards the end of the B-side, this remains a remarkably consistent release that, at least in some measure, opened my eyes to the best traits of Elvis Costello, apparently hidden in plain sight. It might take me a little while longer to warm up to this, but there's definitely some great songs to be found on this album! Key Tracks: No Action, Pump It Up, (I Don't Want to Go to) Chelsea, Lipstick Vogue

I heard lots about Sparks, about their remarkable consistency across their 5 decade career, about their knack for reinvention, about how they were the only sibling duo in rock with a healthy relationship (the Davies, Gallaghers, Fogertys, and more say hi.) What really drew me in to this album was the whip-smart songwriting mixed with the pop sensibilities. This is art pop in the truest sense of the word, the kind that sacrifices neither and meets perfectly in the middle. It's at once manic and joyous, and so many of the songs make you want to dress up in something absolutely ridiculous and strut about in public. The extroversion of this record is palpable in that way. On the album side, the tracks are sequenced incredibly well, meaning the album never loses any momentum throughout its brisk 36 minutes. It's no wonder this was their commercial breakthrough (in the UK anyway; these 2 were always more popular there despite originally being from L.A.) Of course, their success in the UK means this is a very British sounding album, right down to singer Russel Mael's theatrical vocal performances, which try to emulate a variety of British accents. Of course, the most significant influence for Kimono My House was glam rock, and their labelmates at the time, Roxy Music, is probably the most important one. I like to think of this album as an American answer to Roxy: less drab, more brash and outgoing, more sure of itself, and more genuinely enamoured with the artifice of glam rock. The artifice is plenty visible on the remarkably anonymous cover art, which features neither the Mael brothers nor any writing to indicate what album this is. The cover art is instantly recognizable to me and it does a great job communicating the mania and seemingly mismatched elements that make up the album (fun fact: the woman on the right provided the spoken Japanese heard on David Bowie's "It's No Game Pt.1" off Scary Monsters.) More than any other trait, I think what really sells this album is the one-of-a-kind songwriting of the Mael brothers: just about every song includes some kind of hook that makes it instantly memorable, yet there's always a little twist to it, whether it's an unusual phrasing to make the lyrics fit the meter or a sudden shift in instrumentation. In short, a listener could never mistake these songs as anybody else's. That, to me, is the hardest of all the hurdles to overcome in music, and this album clears it with relative ease. Definitely something to check out if you like the artsy side of pop rock and wondered what American glam's logical conclusion would sound like. Key Tracks: This Town Ain't Big Enough for the Both of Us, Falling in Love with Myself Again, Hasta Manana Monsieur, In My Family

.....I don't get it. Laura Nyro has been historically positioned by the press as some kind of unsung heroine of 60s folk pop, but there's little folk or pop to be found here. Instead, Nyro creates this unholy fusion of show tunes, 60s soul and jazz to create...whatever this is. I can't sit here and say the whole thing is irredeemable, because there are genuinely a few good songs on here: the one I liked most was "Sweet Blindness," and that's because it's one of the only songs that doesn't shift into piano jazz halfway through. When I was given Tapestry as my daily listen, I found Carole King's style overbearing at times. Nyro's, by contrast, is outright overwhelming with how overwrought and pitchy her voice is. Unconventional tonality is hardly a dealbreaker for me, but going flat or sharp while playing loud major chords does not a jazz tune make. The show tunes aspect shines the most to my ears. Some of my fondest musical memories came from the theatre, but Nyro seems to have drawn her influences exclusively from musicals attempting to be high art: think something like "Candide" or lesser known Sondheim like "Passion." Those kinds of shows, I think, fundamentally misunderstand the purpose of a musical in the same way that opera is misunderstood today: both show formats are made by and for mass audiences, but retroactive assessments try to position them as elitist and exclusionary, thanks in no small part to the most ardent supporters. This album hardly has that sort of audience assessment, but it was thought of as some sort of high concept piece despite being made up of broad, popular elements, some of which were done much, MUCH better than others. Nyro's voice is probably the most significant detractor for me, as her instrument swings wildly between tones. One minute she sounds quite nice before turning into a fusion of every bad American Idol audition not 30 seconds later. While there's definitely a small handful of gems on this album, they're few and far between, and you have to wade through the rest of this album's mire to get through them. It's far from horrible, but it's very close to forgettable

This album was a sign of things to come. Without Something else, the Kinks would never write Village Green or Arthur, the latter of which is a personal favourite of mine. On this album, the Davies brothers draw their influence from music hall, itself an old trend from a generation prior. The softer, toylike instrumentation means the band loses a fair bit of its rock and roll bite, but the songwriting - always the crown jewel of the Kinks' oeuvre - makes up for it. In typical Kinks fashion, this is an album out of time and place - this wouldn't sound out of place if it had been released a decade prior. We have to keep in mind that, in 1967, most bands were out exploring psychedelia in an attempt to figure out what was going on in San Francisco at the time. The Kinks, a band banned from the US for an incident that took place before a TV performance, leaned even more heavily into their Britishness and ignored the concept of altered states entirely. Make no mistake, this is a straight laced, stone cold sober album about all sorts of things - British social issues, character pieces and genuine fun times are the main ones, but there's an air of seriousness in even the most whimsical songs. What I find is that the Kinks basically beat the Beatles to the punch by making a cutesy pop album as this predates both Magical Mystery Tour and Yellow Submarine, which features the same sort of naive, childlike songwriting. Of course, the Davies' singing about the weekly classifieds take this decidedly out of children's territory, but the instrumentation certainly keeps one foot in that realm. This is an album to check out if you really like British whimsy, or if you're a really into the Kinks. Key Tracks: Harry Rag, Love Me Till the Sun Shines, Waterloo Sunset

There really was nothing like this in 1989. Hip hop was just starting to take on the form that would be refined and perfected in the decade ahead, but Public Enemy essentially took 5 steps ahead of everyone when this came out. With a high-concept premise and some truly groundbreaking production, no one was expecting hip hop to have its huge innovator album so early in its history. Most of the beats are quite harsh by today's standards, with its whirring, near-industrial machine whirs and mechanical beats, which makes the listener feel every second of their 4 to 5 minute run times. The rapping itself is mostly rooted in the same era, as the production is truly what puts this album ahead of its. Don't let the endless refrain of "yeaaaaaah boooooiiiiiiii" trick into thinking Flava Flav was anything but the greatest musician in the rap scene at the time. In true Public Enemy fashion, there are some radical, violent political propositions being made here, if the title didn't make it obvious enough. Even the interludes tell some kind of narrative as they detail social dynamics, race relations, and media manipulation within the 1 to 2 minute runtimes they're given. While those interludes might have influenced tons of skits in rap albums to come (some more embarrassing than others) there isn't a single one of those tracks that feels out of place on this album. Every track, beat and noise seemingly has a purpose; it's rare to find an album so meticulously calculated and refined, and it was even rarer to find one like that in 80s rap. Most of this still holds up, so I well and truly recommend this one if you ever want to hear where the album that bridged the old and new schools. My final assessment is a resounding Yeaaaaah Boooooooiiiiiiii!! Key Tracks: Bring the Noise, Don't Believe the Hype, Terminator X on the Edge of Panic, She Watch Channel Zero?!

This album is a fine enough release to introduce listeners to the Beach Boys. It's probably their most stereotypical album from their early days, which plenty of doo-woop influenced melodies, lyrics about the summer and surfing, and, of course, plenty of close harmonies. There's a few small hints at the psychedelic and baroque pop sounds they would eventually transition to for the undeniably excellent Pet Sounds album just a year later, but most of the material here is played relatively straight and makes the album sound relatively plain by comparison to their most famous works. The performances themselves are acceptable, but there is a particularly... snooty attitude that transmits through the speakers. The Beach Boys were not beating the preppy snob accusations on this album. One strong point of this release is that the covers, ballads and more upbeat originals all blend in seamlessly, which I suppose speaks to the already-apparent brilliance of Brian Wilson. Yes, the arrangements are very standard, but the little details from harpsichord to sleigh bells, give them the little extra something they need. This is definitely an album to use as a jump off point to the more canonized Beach Boys albums (Pet Sounds, Surf's Up, Sunflower,) but it's pretty unremarkable as a standalone album. Key Tracks: Do You Wanna Dance? Help Me, Rhonda, Please Let Me Wonder

The last time I was given a Beck album, I walked away from it pleasantly surprised. I would say the feeling is a little more subdued. Guero veers in a solidly trip hop direction, with smatterings of indie folk rock as a for-your-consideration campaign. There are some songs that communicate a distinctly Bronx feeling, like the strange alt hip hop of "Que Onda Guero" (who let Beck rap on this? He sounds like someone's dad to a PSA rap for their kids' school...at least the beat more than makes up for it.) The first track, "E-Pro" features some unusually crunchy guitar and sort of feels like the successor to "Devil's Haircut," the absolute banger that opens Odelay. In typical CD era fashion, this is a bloated release - there's about 40 minutes of ideas here, but it's been stretched out to 54 because the disc can fit it I guess. The album also suffers from one of the classic issues I've noticed with Beck releases - it's frontloaded to the max. Seriously, the best songs are the first 6, and concepts and ideas start repeating from track 8 onward. The last truly unique song in the latter half is "Broken Drum," a delightfully minimalist piece that would have got a lot more attention if it wasn't in the middle of the middest of mid-tempo slogs as the second half of Guero. I liked quite a bit of the half that was stimulating to listen to, so this one is alright by me. However, I once again ask myself why I had to hear THIS album out of all the others that could have been included...this list really does show its bias sometimes. Key Tracks: E-Pro, Que Onda Guero, Missing, Earthquake Weather, Broken Drum

Now this was a pleasant surprise! Before being given this album, I knew 3 things about Van Morrison: 1) he was from Northern Ireland, 2) he had a song called "Brown Eyed Girl," and 3) he's a notorious prick. They say there are 2 kinds of people: those who like Van Morrison, and those who've met him. I'm not sure where I stand on that, but what I do know for certain is that this album is an absolute gem. From the word "go," Moondance lays down its sonic palette and sticks with it throughout its 38 minutes. This is a smooth, mellow album, but it doesn't mean it isn't a fiery and energetic romp through love, passion, spirituality and mysticism. This is, in my opinion, the greatest summation of Morrison's vast body of work, balancing both the stream-of-consciousness magical ramblings with the earthy blues-jazz-soul-rock fusion that forms what the singer himself has titled "Celtic soul." It's sort of hard to describe outside of combining the 4 main influences, but you'll know it when you hear it. The big songs that stood out to me were the title track and "Into the Mystic." I imagine this isn't particularly surprising given their iconic status, but this is one case of the singer's most canonized songs also being their best. "Moondance" has a slinking jazz shuffle carried by the walking bass, which allows Morrison to seamlessly riff and shout all over the chorus to make one of the most powerful belt-out moments in the folk rock canon (if you can sing along to it, anyway.) Meanwhile, "Into the Mysic" uses seafaring imagery to pose questions about life, love and the pursuit of something greater than onself, using only 2 verses and less than 4 minutes of runtime. Truly a gargantuan feat to ponder such massive questions within such a small frame. Other big ones are "Caravan," whose la-la-la chorus I would normally dismiss, but one only needs to watch Morrison's performance of it in The Last Waltz to truly understand how transcendent la-la-las can be. The B-side isn't quite as good as the A-side and mostly sticks to a milder, mid-tempo interpretation of the A-side's lightning-in-a-bottle energy, but the 2 highlights there are the opener and closer, "Come Running," a warm tribute to the early R&B progenitors, and the closer "Glad Tidings," an upbeat jaunt that uses a variety of disparate metaphors for self-reflection. That latter song is probably most famous for its use in the Sopranos; that's where I heard it first, and now I can finally assign it to somebody. At first, I didn't think much of this album and I mostly assigned into the "respectable folk from the Woodstock-adjacent crowd" box. But there was just something so...magnetic that drew me into this album again and again, which is something I think can be ascribed to Van Morrison's career as a whole. While seemingly bog-standard in its execution, the magnetic, almost mythical presence of something bigger than the music keeps people drawn in. It's no wonder Van has been "the Man" for the past 60 plus years, because there's something truly intangible and timeless to his work that you can't find much of anywhere else. Key Tracks: Moondance, Caravan, Into the Mystic, Glad Tidings

This album reminds me of driving back on dirt country roads after a weekend getaway or a long hike. The good times are still in full view, but you slowly realize as you keep going down the road that they've become nothing more than memories as of that very moment. This album is one of wide open, desolate landscapes and forlorn, windswept plains. These songs were apparently demos recorded on 4-track tape to be arranged for the E Street Band, but I can't imagine hearing any of these intensely intimate pieces with full instrumentation. These are lonesome songs designed for an acoustic guitar and harmonica, and the lo-fi recording that captures everything down to the uneven echoes lend a truly living, breathing feel to this whole album. There is, of course, a distinct air of sadness about virtually every track, but this is far from something truly morose like Songs from Suicide Bridge. There's even an almost rock song in "Johnny 99," so there is still some drive and energy in Nebraska. Now that I think of it, the slow sparse songwriting can almost be thought of as a precursor to slowcore, which started being called that about a decade later. Nebraska is considered a big departure from the previously spirited heartland rock Springsteen made his name with, and it's certainly a big left turn from the feel-good, heroic persona The Boss had cultivated previously. I chalk up the change to him living in an isolated town out in the boonies while he wrote the album. I also like to think this was heavily influenced by what Springsteen must have seen developing in real time; the hollowing out of Middle America and the birth of the Rust Belt. De-industrialization and austerity policy had just started gripping the Western world around this time, and the world's cynicism became apparent: the New Deal was over, the old money pigs had won. It doesn't help that the album is full of tales of injustices for common people, lost opportunity, and crooked people in power. Not that Springsteen had never written this type of material, but Nebraska is set apart by just how downright BLEAK this album is. It's a singular release that could not have come out of any other context than the empty, isolated landscapes of its namesake state. Key Tracks: Nebraska, Mansion on the Hill, Johnny 99, State Trooper

Talk about an album that clobbers you from the get-go: that first hit on "Them Bones" makes me take a step back even years later. The rest of Dirt is similarly pummeling, with only a small handful of mid-tempo sections thrown in to offer some breathing room. Thematically, this is typical grunge fare: hard living, drug use and internal demons are the big 3 themes throughout this album. Musically though it's much heavier than most of what was coming out of mainstream-ish rock at that time - the only contemporary competitor in terms of all-out power is Soundgarden's Badmotorfinger, released a year prior. AiC distinguish themselves with their famous major third harmonies along with Cantrell's Sabbath-worship riffs. Staley's voice is also in top form here: one only needs to hear the all-timer performances on "Rain When I Die" and eternal banger "Would?" to confirm his place among the alt rock pantheon. Alice in Chains were always in a strange musical deadzone: too grunge to be metal, and too metal to be grunge. Oftentimes, those elements clashed against each other. On Dirt, however, AiC found a way to fuse all of their myriad influences - Sabbath-style riffing, fiery punk, morose balladry, and a touch of glam attention-seeking - into one era-defining artistic statement. One of the heaviest, most uncompromising records of the grunge era, and a pillar of alternative metal. Key Tracks: Them Bones, Rain When I Die, Down In a Hole Rooster, Would?

I almost disqualified this album from the band's name alone. I've always found the food-based names of the 60s a sort of weird trend (Vanilla Fudge? Strawberry Alarm Clock? Probably a lot more that I'm missing.) That tangent aside, I was expecting something slightly more psychedelic than this, just based on this album's incredible title. There's smatterings of what would eventually become known as "cosmic country," country's answer to psychedelia, but it's still in the very early stages here. I must admit, this list does a very good job of introducing new listeners to the albums that signal the start of a new genre, rather than showing the album that supposedly "perfected" the sound. It invites more exploration and engagement with the genre in question, in my experience. I guess it figures this would be the origin point of cosmic country since Gram Parsons is among the many musicians that play on this album. You would never know it from how stripped down and minimalist many of the songs are. Parsons is second from the right on the album cover in case you were curious which one he was. This is a decent album with some decent performances, full of wide-ranging harmonies that really shine on the more mid-tempo songs. The instrumentation has some tiny hints of being off-kilter, hence the cosmic designation, but otherwise, most of these songs are played like a train on a track - in other words, as straight and undeviating as possible. The psychedelic moments definitely stick out considering how mellow and unobtrusive everything else is, so I definitely see where Gene Clark's No Other got its sound. Key Tracks: Christine's Tune, Sin City, Dark End of the Street, Wheels

A distinctly sparse, lo-fi recording of folk tunes, all original material, from Scotland's best answer to Dylan. Honestly, the homespun (literally in this case, as this was a home recording using reel-to-reel tape) approach makes this sound like one of those old Alan Lomax recordings of old folk songs. This album sounds like it could have existed in the 1930s, which makes it feel both of its time (don't forget that big 60s folk revival on both sides of the Atlantic!) and completely out of time all at once. Jansch himself gives a fairly compelling performance, if nasal folk singer is compelling to you anyway. The real highlights for me are the several instrumental sketches, each around a minute or so in length, which are there to prove the guitar isn't just there for show. While my personal favourite Jansch recording might be this one's follow-up, Jack Orion, this self-titled debut gives the listener a decent preview into the surprisingly prolific catalogue of one of Britain's unsung folk heroes. While nothing really jumps out and grabs a hold of you, the flitting, ephemeral nature of these songs reveals the silver lining: it attracts the listener to Jansch himself as a rambling hobo, a troubadour down on his luck. It establishes a rapport with the personality or character singing the songs, which is, in my mind, one of the most essential tenets of any memorable folk singer. Key Tracks: I Have No Time, Needle of Death, Rambling's Gonna Be the Death of Me

Few albums I've ever listened to have done so much with so little. Consisting entirely of a solo piano concerto, this remarkably relaxing, contemplative piece was apparently created under pretty stressing conditions - Jarrett had to follow an opera and started late, while also being given the wrong kind of piano compared to the one requested for the performance. Jarrett's phrasing is utterly out of this world as his playing moves from scenic pastoral landscapes to rain falling on a window. He even finds time to interpolate the Berlin opera house's chime in a blink-and-you-miss-it inside joke with the audience. It's utterly silent besides the piano, with only faint exclamations from Jarrett to remind you this is, in fact, a lone human playing an instrument live and in real time. The best way to listen to this is to let the music pass through you, to let it disappear as quickly as it appears. The individual notes, phrases and sections are to disappear in the massive void of the opera house, just as lightning appears, impresses and disappears in the night sky. And truth be told, this album is lightning in a bottle, a landmark of minimalist solo jazz and an incredible evocative piece that stays with you long after it's ended, despite how ephemeral the concert itself might be.

A few years ago, a friend recommended I deep dive into Outkast's back catalogue. I remember liking some of this but finding it way too long considering its 70+ minute run time and the excessive interludes. I still hold those opinions, but they've softened a fair bit since last I listened to this album around 3 years ago. The main things I noticed is just how un-hip hop this hip-hop album is. For one, most of the instrumentals are heavily R&B influenced, and if not for Andre 3000's rambling rapping, they might have been confused for sparse soul instrumentals. There's also the poppy side of the album - most of the best choruses on Stankonia are sung, with melodies that, once again, draw heavily from R&B (you can hear it on "So Fresh, So Clean" and "Ill Call B4 I Cum," for instance.) This is a 2000s rap album, so the R&B in question is not the gentlemanly fare you're expecting: this is a fairly racy, debauched album when you consider the main themes of most songs along with the spoken skits in between them. Andre 3000 gives some stand-out performances here - his rapping is hard to wrap your head around at first since he almost sounds like he's just talking around half the time. On high-octane songs like "B.O.B." though, you really do hear how perfectly he fits in the pocket, the gaps in the instrumental. That said, I found this album too long for its own good. It's a sign of the era it came out in, when everyone was putting out albums that sought to fill as much of the 80 minutes available on a CD as possible. There's an absolutely killer 45 to 50 minute album here, but you have to sift through a lot of samey songs to find it. That sort of detracted from my enjoyment of what was otherwise a very lively, well-crafted, and memorable document of 2000s Southern hip hop, released just before the bling took over. Key Tracks: So Fresh So Clean, Ms. Jackson, I'll Call B4 I Cum, B.O.B., Humble Mumble

If this list was forced to choose only 1 album per artist featured, this would be my pick for the Beck album to be featured. It's the purest distillation of his work, from his genre-jumping to his weird songwriting that feels like it permanently lives in left field. You won't find too many psychedelia-meets-slacker-indie-meets-rap albums out there. Beck somehow makes all of these coexist and even blend in together at times, with the myriad samples - then a novel concept - as well as own detached, chameleon-esque performances. I was not expecting to like this album as much as I did considering the previous 2 Beck albums I was given (the string-heavy, chamber pop Sea Change and the weirdo trip hop Guero) were much more homogeneous than this. Beck's style, to me, works best when the genre switching between tracks are wide, like on the change between the dancey(?) indie rock of "The New Pollution" to the sleepy almost raga rock of "Derelict," followed next by the blown-out noisy rap rock of "Novacane." It just works perfectly in the context of this immaculately sequenced album. There's hardly a single wasted note on Odelay, and every idea is given just enough time and space to feel fully developed, whether it's a full song or a single brief sample. This is a remarkably well-constructed album from the side of alternative music where the trains don't run. It maintains a conscious sensibility to convention without sacrificing its daring experimentation. A triumph all around in Beck's varied career. Key Tracks: Devil's Haircut, The New Pollution, Derelict, Jack-Ass, High 5

The first of what seems to be a few Sonic Youth albums included on this list. I had listened to this one years ago and nothing really stuck out to me except the oddly subdued "Shadow of a Doubt" and the noisy closer "Expressway to Yr Skull," so it was sort of nice to revisit this. Make no mistake, this is the sound of a band that was discovering exactly what their sound was, what with the utterly indecipherable guitar tunings and effects that make the instruments sound they came from a different era entirely, and the non-linear songwriting that anchors the whole of the Sonic Youth oeuvre. This one is surprisingly eclectic as it exchanges post-punk dejection with noisy hardcore punk fury to meet somewhere in the middle. With all that said, this album doesn't really have a second half outside of "Expressway" as all the best songs are found in the first half, and the ideas introduced are essentially all repeated in the second half. I did like the strange, interlude-like "In the Kingdom #19," which veers from an almost punk blues atmosphere carrying along a mopey spoken word delivery. It's surprisingly unique in the Sonic Youth catalogue. I "Secret Girl" also does this in a much more subdued manner, with Kim Gordon doing her classic speak-singing over some loose, echoing hits and sparse piano. It lends a Swans-esque energy to the album (let's not forget that Thurston Moore was briefly a member of that band when both were coming up in NYC in the early 80s.) Honestly, that one song felt like a deliberate attempt to create a Gira-and-Jarboe dynamic for just a moment. On the whole, EVOL is the first of Sonic Youth's "good" albums and is definitely one of the better entry points into their catalogue. They did do this sound much better on later releases though, especially on the 2 that followed. EVOL also happens to be the punkiest of the classic Sonic Youth records, so you might get a lot out of it if you like noisy hardcore-adjacent rock. Key Tracks: Tom Violence, Shadow of a Doubt, Death to Our Friends, Expressway to Yr Skull

Between Permanent Waves and this album, Rush entered the 80s - a decade marked by an extinction event in the world of prog rock - in top form. Canadian rock's greatest stalwarts had fully embraced synths and drum pads at the dawn of the new decade, and by the time Moving Pictures rolled around, they had been seamlessly integrated into their signature technical-but-self-effacing compositions. Moving Pictures essentially continued the tradition of Rush albums moving forward, though, in some ways, it was also a departure. "The Camera Eye" is the last time a Rush song ever stretched past 10 minutes, and there are some outright standard hard rock songs included here in the hit singles "Tom Sawyer" and "Limelight." Of course, there's more than meets the eye to these songs (on the lyrical side of things anyway;) the former sings of rebellion and the search for individualism, while the latter discusses the trappings of fame and the obsession with documenting public figures. Drummer/lyricist Neil Peart had largely abandoned the Randian philosophy that had marked his earlier writings by this point in Rush's career as well, which explains why these songs feel so universal. Geddy Lee's voice is often a point of contention in a listener's enjoyment of Rush, but I find this is the best he ever sounded in Rush's prime years. The grating, no-nuts style of the 70s has been largely replaced by a matured but still piercing tenor as the singer entered his 30s (he was also a heavy smoker at this time, which also contributed a fair bit to his voice lowering in this period.) Lee sound as though he's finally come into his own here, and the conviction translates incredibly well across virtually all his performances, the only exception being the misjudged reggae of "Vital Signs." The album's A-side is indisputably among the band's best, going from hit singles to sing-along instrumentals without hitting and bumps along the way. The B-side is dragged down by its decidedly weak closer, but the previous 2 songs more than make up for it. If there's a single Rush album to listen to, it's this one: you'll be hard-pressed to find the hard edge of their hard rock roots, the complexity of their peak prog years, and the synth wall of their 80s work coexisting as well as they do anywhere else in their discography. Key Tracks: Tom Sawyer, YYZ, Limelight, The Camera Eye

What am I to do with 50+ minutes of British folk? I see a few have complained about its apparent 100-minute runtime, but Fisherman's Blues closes with "This Land Is Your Land" to me - a rootsy folk album like this couldn't close any other way. To my ears, this is Springsteen-meets-Pogues-meets-U2. Make of that bizarre mishmash what you will, but it comes out surprisingly cohesive in the end. There's the driving fiddle-led opening title track that's a definite highlight, as is its frenzied follow-up "We Will Not Be Lovers," an instant download for me. There's some other big anthemic folk rock songs here to make you wonder how many people are in this band, or if they spent the entire recording budget overdubbing a Celtic fiddling symphony. Most unusual is the cover of Van Morrison's "Sweet Thing" that appears on here. There's what I can only describe as a feature verse from the Beatles' "Blackbird" in between the original lyrics. "Sweet Thing" is already a perfect song to me, so the Waterboys extending it to 7 minutes and doing what they do with it only reasserts that song's utter perfection. Following that, we get the 9-minute "And a Bang on the Ear," a song that could honestly have gone for only 6 minutes without losing its potency. Instead it do-si-does around for a few minutes too many with these overly loud, dry-sounding drums that cut through absolutely everything for some reason. I've never heard percussion mixed so loud on a folk rock album before. Slower and softer songs take precedence in the second half of this album; the best among these are "When Will We Be Married," a stellar showcase of this the Waterboys' love of fiddling, and the sweeping, maritime ballad "The Stolen Child." Honestly, a lot of the second half sounds like Stan Rogers (of Canadian folk fame) to my ears. I'm not British, so perhaps the importance of this revivalist folk rock album is lost on me, but what I hear is a sturdy document of the British Isles' acoustic traditions, skillfully retrofitted to a popular rock format. There's far worse you could do than try to modernize old sounds. Key Tracks: Fisherman's Blues, We Will Not Be Lovers, Sweet Thing, The Stolen Child

I have no idea what I could really say about this one. It veers between ska and reggae to funky hard rock. There's even some punk thrown in for good measure. So I guess you could call this the album that beat Faith No More's The Real Thing to the punch. Most everything is played serviceably well, though I found the proto-funk-metal tracks like "Freddie's Dead," a cover of Mayfield's song, to be the most interesting material on this record. It's a nice way of looking at the genesis of the brief yet influential funk rock movement that gave the world Faith No More, Living Colour, the Chili Peppers, and others. I find this list of albums does that quite well - it finds the true origin points of certain genres and movements and demands you start your listening from the very beginning (which, I'm told, is a very good place to start.) I didn't expect a whole much out of this album, especially considering I used to confuse this band with Phish and assumed they would be a jam band too. But everything on the tracklist is played super tight, and you can tell the band started experimenting with heavier sounds, because they don't always know where to put them. I'm not sure I would listen to this again as it just isn't up my alley, but I do applaud the eclecticism and the very obvious ambition the band had when they made this album. A fine offering all around. Key Tracks: Freddie's Dead, One Day, Ghetto Soundwave

This was a blast from my past. Not long after I discovered Spiritualized's magnus opus, Ladies and Gentlemen... I looked through the rest of their discography. At the time, now 7 or 8 years ago, this was a close second, but I quickly forgot about it while the former album remains an all-time favourite. Re-listening to it for the first time in 4 or 5 years, I've come to the realization that there aren't really any "songs" on this album as much as there are extended suites separated into movements. I can only compare it to a spaced out, listless reinterpretation of Yes' Tales from Topographic Oceans. It suffers from the same issues as that album: overlong suites that focus so much on atmosphere and ambition that it forgets where it put the songs somewhere along the way. Lazer Guided Melodies has a few catchy moments, like "I Want You," which is the closest thing to an earworm this album has, but these "hooks" are used only sparingly throughout. I think one of the main issues an uninitiated listener will have is that Spiritualized is simultaneously neither spacey nor rocky enough to be considered either of those genres proper. Their sound exists in this weird middle of the two, and on this album, there's potential for both sides to coexist perfectly, but it's fully realized on only a few songs. The other thing they might notice is that this is a surprisingly BACKloaded record, as the best moments, the most energetic, honest-to-God space rock moments are in the back half of the album. In essence, the first half of songs - where one is likely to get their biggest impression - are the preamble to what's really worth the price of admission. I really do recommend this album if you want to find that almost-perfect medium between spacey ambiance and alternative rock, but just be advised that it takes some getting used to to the cosmos-meets-guitar-meets-gospel beast that is Spiritualized. Key Tracks: If I Were with Her Now, I Want You, Step Into the Breeze, Shine a Light, Sway

What in the blue hell is this? White Blood Cells was RIGHT THERE if a 2nd White Stripes album absolutely had to be included. This a disjointed mess of randomly placed marimbas to pretend this album is "experimental," guitar noise that comes in far too late in a track's runtime to redeem it, and Jack White's reedy, scratchy voice trying and failing to carry the weight of the whole thing - that last point is especially glaring on the slower piano blues songs. The production is also all over the place, with the loud parts sounding strident with no low end to make them punchy, and the quiet parts sounding like they came out of a tin can. This is widely considered the low point of the White Stripes' already lean catalogue, and I couldn't agree more. Sure, there's variety, but each experiment is tried so haphazardly, each song is written with so little regard for structure and production, that no amount of weird choices can lift up what sound like discarded Rolling Stones tunes "enhanced" by glockenspiel and boring piano plinking. 170 albums in and I found my first true dud.

Before she became the blueprint for all weird art pop ladies who followed her in the 90s and beyond, Bjork was the lead singer of Iceland's biggest alt rock band. There's hints of her eventual singular weirdness here, especially on the album's biggest single, "Birthday," though most of this album is quite conventional by Bjork standards. Her unmistakable does the heavy lifting for the big single and the album as a whole as it swan dives, tumbles and somersaults all over the slightly swinging(?) alt-rock instrumentation. She hasn't quite mastered her instrument here, so this album definitely gives you the feeling of seeing a masterful singer evolve in real time. Honestly, the weirdest thing about this album is hearing Bjork sing over conventional rock music. Her aside, the most distinctly Scandinavian thing about this is how much the songwriting owes to Swedish pop, with melodies so sweet it justifies their Sugarcubes moniker. Definitely something to check out if you want to hear how alt rock was being toyed with in Scandinavia, and to listen to what Bjork was up to before Debut. Key Tracks: Birthday, Cold Sweat, Blue Eyed Pop

First things first: "Creep" and "Waterfalls" are the best songs on here because they're indisputable bangers. TLC might not have had the huge overpowering voices of their R&B girl group contemporaries, namely Destiny's Child, but they more than made up for it with all the personality they showed on this, their signature outing. You won't find anything necessarily considered "groundbreaking" on this album as it borrows mostly from the R&B of the early 2000s it came up in. What sets it apart is the boom-bap influence - between the drums and the rapping from TLC's members, you could consider this a hip hop soul album at some points. "Waterfalls" is a song firmly planted in that genre. Again, this album doesn't have anything really mind-blowing per se, but it is a good document of where R&B was going as the world entered the new millennium. Like many of the most commercial releases before and after it, the best songs with the most invested in them are the singles. The deep cuts don't do much in the way of introducing new concepts, and the interludes - another symptom of its hip-hop influence - are just kind of...there. I think a listener will get a lot out of this album if they're big fans of 2000s R&B and its whispery, airy production that betrays just how damn horny it is, because this album is a prime example of that sound. Key Tracks: Creep, Diggin' on You, Waterfalls, Take Our Time

A very pleasant collection of classic New Orleans R&B. It's full of this jumpy, toe-tapping energy that resembles jump blues the most. Both genres served as one of the myriad influences that combined to form rock and roll. Fats Domino, with his shy, reserved vocal and piano style, doesn't seem like the most likely of rock pioneers, but Elvis and the Beatles both cited him as an influence. On this frustratingly hard-to-find album (the Spotify tracklist doesn't have all the songs available, and Youtube has no clue what I'm asking about,) Domino does what's typical of this era - sway left and right between bittersweet piano R&B and jumping blues numbers. It's repetitive, and songs are samey, but this is the 50s! The idea that an LP could be anything but a collection of the singles you had out at that time was basically unheard of. The material here is fine enough, though I must admit the best songs are the ones with "Blue" in the title, "Blue Monday" and his signature tune "Blueberry Hill." This is really a collection of singles more than anything else, a good release made up of short, mostly interchangeable songs outside of those 2. I will credit the list's authors for keeping these 50s releases on the list since their historical importance is somewhat lost as we get further and further away from them. Key Tracks: Blueberry Hill, Blue Monday, Poor Poor Me

What can be said about indie's first sprawling pillar that hasn't already been said hundreds of times over 35+ years? This is an immaculate collection of songs, but not for any conventional reason. For starters, none of them are structured like normal songs except "Teen Age Riot," the opening song for the ages. Next, most of the songs are barely held together by the drumming, and the instant that relaxes for even a moment, the multi-guitar attack devolves into utter noisy chaos. Lastly, none of the singers are winning any awards with their muffled, half-spoken performances. And yet, all of these elements, worth relatively little on their own, coalesce to form this massive double record that signalled the arrival of a new kind of rock (for the people whose ear was turned to the underground, anyway.) There's just something indescribable, magical even, about the strange dynamics and swirling dissonant feedback that makes up a good part of this album. For having so many of the songs go past the 7-minute mark, there's nary a minute wasted on these songs. To me, these are some of the quickest 70 minutes I've ever spent listening to a double record. With Daydream Nation, indie rock found its first guitar heroes, and while their performances are far from technical, relying mostly on incomprehensible tunings and screeching punk ferocity to get their point across, there's something so distinctly well-measured about it all. It's not to say that the band is restraining themselves; rather, it was a sign of things to come as grunge and the alternative explosion was just around the corner. By the time grunge took over, Sonic Youth's far-reaching influence could be heard in just about every multi-guitarist band's approach to the instrument, and their sense of non-linear songwriting was a prime innovator for what would later come to the indie rock sphere as the 90s progressed. This has long been a favourite album of mine for a very long time, largely due to how well it's stood the test of time in the face of all that influenced. It stills sounds as eccentric, aggressive and essential as it did in 1988, and revisiting this album has only reinforced those same notions. An early arrival and late departure from the burgeoning alternative sphere, and an album to which virtually every subsequent band owes a little something. Key Tracks: Teen Age Riot, Silver Rocket, Total Trash, Rain King, A - The Wonderboy

You know, the Velvet Underground was originally going to be a pop group, what with being an Andy Warhol pet project and all. Warhol was a key figure in POP art, after all, so the original thought was that it be appropriate that he manage a group making pop music. All that changed when John Cale was introduced to the fold. A classically trained avant-garde violinist and conventional pop don't usually mix. The result of that strange halfway meeting is obvious on the 1967 Velvet Underground debut, right down to its banana cover art. Honestly, nothing else could really describe the Velvets' sound visually anyway. Released just 6 years after the Velvet Underground's debut arrived and...did nothing for a couple of decades (it admittedly took a little while for people to catch on) John Cale took to making what I can only describe as "gentleman art pop." Everything is so prettily produced, so fluffy and airy, so well-dressed and well-mannered that I half expect each song to bow before it starts. Half the time I was expecting "March of the Toys" to start playing (don't ask me why my brain to make THAT connection.) I guess with an album like this that has every single hair in place, there isn't too much that can be said about how daring its writing is, or to sing the high praises of its maverick architect. Rather, it seems Cale has decided to play it safe, offering mostly elegant mid-tempo balladry full of little details that reward repeat listens. The only exception to this is the rock and roll stomp of "Macbeth," itself a highlight for how it saves the album from being a totally limp-wristed affair. It's fine enough as background music, or to fulfill the "secular music that sounds oddly religious" niche, which exists to a surprising degree, though I can't really justify its inclusion on this list otherwise. Key Tracks: Child's Christmas in Wales, Macbeth, Half Past France