1001 Albums Summary

Kate Bush proves you can have both artistic integrity and pop sensibilities, Hounds of Love pushes boundaries for what was expected of women in the 80s and every era afterwards. Combining an operatic mastery of her voice and the cutting edge of technology, she weaves a tapestry of sound unmatched to this day. Every track takes you on a journey and as a guide and storyteller Kate Bush is one for the ages.

While I understand the importance of reggae and Bob Marley as cultural touchstones, the music itself has always been a mystery to me. I think the translation from the soul of one who grew up bathed in the bright blue waters of the Caribbean to one who grew up in the cornfields of Indiana was lost somewhere in between. Although Bob Marley’s music and message don’t impact me in a substantial way, I appreciate that he has made an impact on so many, despite his limited time on this planet.

The Doors are weird man. Jim Morrison is a human bottle rocket, when pointed in a safe direction, he’s fun and harmless, but when lit and left to his own devices, he’s a danger to himself and everything around him. I feel like Manzerak, Krieger and Densmore are the glass bottle, desperately trying to keep Morrison contained and purposeful. But once that genie is out, there’s always a show, explosive, brilliant and gone far too soon. -TomB

If ever you’ve wondered who is responsible for the success of Irish musicians making it in America, look no further than Ireland’s Golden Son, Van Morrison. I bet most American’s wouldn’t even guess he’s from Ireland from his singing voice alone or his various styles. To be such a national treasure and yet divorced of all the stereotypical pretense is quite a unique position and Van plays his hand well. Moondance feels like a conversation you had with a stranger on a train, someone on their way to finding a feeling, half real, half romanticized. You’re listening to find the truth, between the whisky flavored whispers, the bellowed cries of regret. Each song a snapshot of a man trying to piece his life together, a seasonal feeling, dewy mornings and colder nights. At the end of the ride, you’re left with a barrel full of words, without the mouth to speak them. So you hum along to a half remembered tune, the music drifting away, like smoke on the wind. That is Moondance -TomB