Right at the start of my musical journey, a true masterpiece. Nina Simone was always an artist I should have known more about. This is powerful music with a political messagecand sadly, not much has changed: It's black, feminist, poetic, sublime. Particularly fascinating: ‘Lilac Wine’, 'Four Women', ‘Wild is the Wind’ and ‘Black Is the Colour of My True Love’s Hair’.
Zeitgeist. It was the era when science fiction was booming. The era when astronauts were working in multinational space stations. The future was just around the corner. I’ve known this album ever since it came out. In German. The English-language version still sounds strange, a bit off. Perhaps also because the strong accent makes it clear that the lyrics were never intended to be in English. But that doesn’t matter. Because with Kraftwerk, it’s the atmosphere, the concept, the idea – and the music, of course – that counts. The album is a masterpiece. Their most commercially successful one. And perhaps not even their very best. But great. Still visionary, almost 50 years after its release. And the future is still around the corner. For better of for worse.
‘Songhoy Blues’ – the band name made me fear the worst. Because anyone who knows me knows how little I can be bothered with 95% of the blues and blues-rock noodling out there. But fortunately, the album has very little to do with classic blues or blues-rock; instead, it is an excellent example of African ‘Desert Blues’ (according to Wikipedia), which is musically much more complex. Although, of course, you can’t understand a single word – the lyrics are apparently in Songhay, the language of northern Mali – the music is rhythmically structured and universally accessible. A good example of an album I probably would never have heard if it weren’t for the “1001 albums you must hear before you die” website.
The album offers pure electric blues performed by a superb band. And yet, at the same time, it contains everything I detest about blues: clichéd lyrics, predictable solos, rigid structures. The “Oohs” and “Yeahs” from the audience complete the stereotype. Yes, the album is certainly a role model for many blues (rock) musicians of later years. But I simply can’t relate to this 12-bar blues structure and the “my baby, she left me” lyrics at all. Because I’ve heard it all a thousand times before and it always comes across the same. If you're a Blues fan, this album is a full ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐, but for me, as a Blues skeptic it's barely a ⭐⭐ because I have to give some credit for musical excellence.
Whenever I listen to Beck – which is rare, I confess – I find myself thinking that I ought to listen to more of his music. Or that it just doesn’t move me. This album is certainly one of his best. Beautifully sad, a love child of the Velvet Underground’s debut and early Radiohead, slightly drunk, introvert and definitely depressive. And yes, I understand why he was (or is?) such an important figure during the decline of rock music, and I do like what I hear. But even this album doesn’t quite resonate with me. Maybe I'm getting too old for this kind of music. Or I just have enough of this music in my collection. Still, I’ll put it on my to-listen-again list.
Oh, I remember it well when this album came out. It made a huge impact. Tracy Chapman became world-famous overnight thanks to the Nelson Mandela 70th Birthday Tribute concert. The debut struck a chord with the spirit of the times: racism, social injustice, misogyny, the lack of prospects for the working class – all these were issues that played a major role in the politically charged 1980s. Add to that Tracy Chapman’s clever songwriting, her expressive voice and the – from today’s perspective – timeless production, which make the album a true singer-songwriter classic. Chapman was never able to replicate the commercial success of her debut, nor perhaps the extremely high artistic standard of this album. But she doesn’t need to, as this album already establishes her as one of the most significant female songwriters of the 1980s. It is shocking how relevant the lyrics still are. It’s as if 40 years haven’t passed…
This is certainly a Britpop classic, released at the height of the Britpop wave and the hype surrounding the ‘feud’ between Blur and Oasis. And yes, the album has a few catchy hits (‘Girls & Boys’, ‘Parklife’), but in the long run it’s too cocky, too superficial for my taste. I prefer Blur’s later albums, as they sound a bit more mature; I can’t really get into this one over the course of a whole album (and even less so with Oasis). Perhaps because I’ve never really warmed to the Britpop wave. Good, probably very good, but just average for me.
In the late 1970s and early 1980s, the English underground music scene was highly politicised within the burgeoning indie scene. Suddenly, there was music from working-class neighbourhoods for working-class people, with a trendy sound. Ska was danceable and lyrically driven (far more so than disco) and reflected the reality of life for young people in the urban jungle. The Police borrowed this ‘white reggae’ (Regatta de Blanc) from bands like The Specials, whilst Madness were set to make this new ska sound even more popular.
When the album came out, I was too young to understand its significance. Back then, I saw The Specials as a slightly less fun version of Madness, though it was actually the other way round: The Specials were Madness’s bigger, more sensible older brother, musically more versatile and lyrically far more astute.
That was truly the most dreadful album I’ve had to listen to so far in this challenge. Marilyn Manson embodies everything I detest about 90s rock music: posing, senseless extreme volume, deliberate provocation and calculated shock tactics, all for the sake of causing a scandal. Musically, there’s nothing special behind all the screaming and those late-adolescent porn lyrics: Black Sabbath, Ozzy Osbourne and Alice Cooper did the shocking stuff better back in the 1970s, and Gary Numan’s ‘alien image’ was far more convincing and less ridiculous. Music for 90s kids who wanted to shock their parents. Nowadays, nobody talks about Manson anymore. And for good reason.
I keep this short. Otis is Soul music. Perfect phrasing, an expressive voice, pure feeling, not a single note out of place, plus a tight band, and every song is sung as if it came straight from the bottom of his soul. Otis even manages to breathe real soul into the Stones' rubbish ‘Satisfaction’. Soulful perfection.
Unlike what most music fans probably think, I find *Led Zeppelin II* to be the band’s most boring and weakest album. Too much blues, too much posing, too many swaggering guitar solos and “every inch of my love”. Yes, I know, that’s what many people love about rock ’n’ roll, but it’s also exactly what bores me out of my mind. Fortunately, the band has made far better albums. Highlights: Ramble on, Thank you.
They say it’s one of the best hip-hop albums of all time. OK, now it’s official. I just can’t get into hip-hop. A barrage of words over the same old beats, over a words, over beats, over words, over beats. I suppose it’s all very meaningful. But musically, it bores me to death. Not my cup of tea. Definitely not my cup of tea.
