The pure sounds of 1970s cocaine. Manic, overstuffed, overwritten, overproduced, exhausting. 10/10, no notes.
Sorta samey sounding in 2026, but it must have absolutely slayed back in 1963. The best of it is still great: All My Loving, I Wanna Be Your Man, Please Mister Postman.
A bizarre mashup of John's thrown-off experiments and Paul's nursery rhymes, it's four album sides of earworms. Only the Beatles in 1968 could have forced this weirdo stuff into the consciousness of a generation.
Pure sound, total immersion, energy and mission. The pivotal album of the early 1990s. A masterpiece. Shame about the homophobia.
The most innocent of all sexy albums, the most lesbian of all hetero albums, or vice versa. I want to spread out and swim the backstroke on Dusty's voice. This album should be ten times as long.
One long song in twelve parts, but it's a very good song!
I was also an ironic asshole teenager in 1987 and probably would've liked this at the time. Some fun noise and tape experiments, some dumb smutty jokes, but it all reads mean, or cruel ("22 Going on 23"). Honestly I kind of like it nostalgically, but you're not missing anything.
Great melodies, great energy, the lyrics are absolute garbage and we all found Axl's twee vocal tricks ridiculous even at the time. It'll be in permanent rotation on radio until the end of time for all the wrong reasons. I'd erase every copy of Sweet Child O Mine before getting rid of Mr. Brownstone.
Enormously likeable, it somehow doesn't quite click with me. It's good, no question, and beyond that it's the sound of adulthood as heard by my childhood (I was 2 years old when this came out). But I appreciate it from a distance.
Pleasant loungey stuff. Odd that it should be keeping company with the most famous pop albums of all time, but I won't begrudge it. Listening to it calms me for an hour, and maybe that's enough.
What else can be said? The mythology of the band can obscure the music, and maybe the decades of listening to the music can obscure the music. But the music!
I never listened to it in the '90s, but somehow I heard it anyway? Good stuff, as Dave Grohl politely steps away from Nirvana (now and then sounding like Eels!), and opens the curtain on a fine new band.
Very much the kind of music that appears in Britbox crime TV series that I've never heard before and am intrigued by for about 40 minutes. I like it. Listen to it three or four times in a row and it becomes a sort of comforting rhythmic cage.
Somehow I overlooked this band til now. Good stuff, reminds me a little of a punkier Roxy Music. Motorcade is nice and spooky. Parade is good too: "It's so hot in here: What are they trying to hatch?"
Look, it's one of rock's greatest albums, but it's almost unlistenable in 2026. You can't go a day without hearing Purple Haze in the wild somewhere, and the other songs are nearly as ubiquitous. Strip away the encrusted mythologies and you've got some good guitar work, some mild psychedelic experiments, and a lot of Boomer macho sexual smugness. The bonus track "Red House" is awesome though.
Laurel Canyon sunlit gloominess, Maliblues. He put out a couple of the best albums of all time (Tonight's the Night, Rust Never Sleeps), and this was what he was doing when he wasn't doing that. The impulse toward Dylan-lecturing must have been strong at the time and behind every lyric is a tsk-tsking finger. Good music, but stop trying to grab the seagulls.
Foundational, impossible to dislike, even for those of us with tin ears who can only understand the rhythmic innovations academically, if at all. The sound of martini lunches, abstract expressionism, bored suburbanites having affairs with one another. Marvelous.
This is okay. The British folk stuff is seminal but the Americana is unconvincing. The sitar probably seemed like a novel sound at the time (thanks, George Harrison!) but adds an even more oddball international element to the songs. I know it's unfair, but every time I hear Pentangle I wish I was listening to Fairport Convention. Train Song and Hunting Song are hypnotic though (complimentary).
The birth of soul, the early days of an indispensible career with countless highlights. Everything's good, nothing's skippable, you'll not hear me say a bad word agin it. That said, I'm a heretic here and I prefer Sinatra's version of Come Rain or Come Shine from two years later.
Subject matter indefensible: I'm glad I don't know French. Maybe it approaches the psychosexual complexity of Nabokov? Seems unlikely. Musically excellent, but the sexy spoken word stuff can't overcome later decades of parody. The electric guitar is fantastic. All this talent, resting on such gross foundations.
All respect to Fugazi, absolute real ones. Anti-capitalist rhythm and noise, deprecated melodies. Do I love this album? I like it. It's basically perfect at what it's doing, but tbh I don't totally love what it's doing.
5/5 for Wild is the Wind, Lilac Wine, and Black is the Color. The other tracks leave less of an impression and Simone overindulges her vibrato throughout. Four Women is a minor masterpiece, but I never really feel like listening to it.
Probably my favorite of the early Gabriels, even if it doesn't have my favorite song (Here Comes the Flood). Consistently good, musically inventive, lyrically a little embarrassing (Family Snapshot). You can hear him permanently switch musical gears over the 7 1/2 minutes of Biko.
Indiscriminately horny without being at all erotic. A big theatrical rocky proggy mess. Every song seems to think it's the last number before intermission, what is even happening here? I love it.
Listenable, maybe a plausible plastic ripoff in 1998, but almost 30 years later it's just the sound of fash. Junk. Fuck nazis.
Everything in the world is bad except God and the children. Unashamed horns and backing ooo-ooohs, the sounds of the early '70s. Earnest, marvelous and beautiful.
So proggy, Elton-Johnny, concept-album-y. What's happening here? The lyrics seem to recede into the background of early '70s whateverness: angst and wistfulness I guess. I think I like this? It seem to be causing me a lot of anxiety though. Piano as percussion. Closing time swaying rhythm. The sax at the end of Crime of the Century really penetrates. Pink Floyd, pay attention. I lost everything the moment the album ended, but I could grasp it if I played it again.
Sludgy. Heavy rhythm. Guitar squalls. Elliptical mopey stoner self-harm lyrics. Not bad, but nothing sticks with me except the cool stomp on Spiders and Vinegaroons. "A world that's full of shit and gasoline, babe."
This was completely new to me, and what a treat to be able to hear it for the first time. Mesmerizing, beautiful, and evocative of more delicate worlds. I love this.
Every time I listen to Radiohead, I think: I'm too dumb to understand this. I like them a lot, and I guess admire them, but not much connects and not much sticks. One day something will inside me will adjust and they will become my favorite band.
Earnest high registers, meaningful key changes, balladlike anthems, anthemic ballads, trite lyrics, the sounds are Oasisish, Coldplayish, Elliot-Smithy, Beatlesesque, Radioheadoid, it all seems like it's reaching toward something big. It's fine? I think I'm missing something here. At least one fantastic lyric, though: "I'm being held up by invisible men."
I wouldn't have guessed in 1993 that we'd still be talking about Snoop in 2026, but America, man. Not a real good album: Gin and Juice is fine, Who Am I was fun to dance to back in the day; Murder Was the Case is probably the most interesting thing here, but it's just the sketch of a good idea. The misogyny screeches these days -- the kids won't believe this, but that was mild back in the day.
A small step down from Purple Rain: on balance the songs are a little less interesting and they all overstay their welcome a bit. Still, a world-class album just for 1999 and Little Red Corvette (maybe my favorite song ever (but shh, I prefer the single version)).
How do I rate this? This man has seen some things. The conventional songs like What's Wrong are blah. But some of the other music (Time in particular) is kind of frightening, even though I'm not sure what's frightening me. An Elton John piano. Eaglesish melodies. Stiff production. Dennis' vocal timbre sounds almost Peter Gabriel-ish at times (surely a coincidence, but buoyed by the background swell in Moonshine and the opening of Thoughts of You). The bonus Bambu tracks are a mess but a lot spookier, and I liked them more than the actual album. I wish he'd lived long enough to develop all of these great ideas.
This is fine. This is the kind of stuff we all danced to around the turn of the century. I don't recall ever hearing these particular songs, or if I did, hearing anyone ask whose song it was. And isn't it the guest vocalists who add the quality here, not the beats? Am I being unfair? Four on the floor is fun, whatever form.
This is okay. The vocals are mostly boring, with a few fun narratives in there (Super Rich Kids, Pyramids), and there's no reason to continue Forrest Gump's cultural influence. Bad Religion is the most interesting song, and after the necessary deciphering, seem to imply an okay progressive message (in 2012 everyone still felt the need to equivocate on LGBTQ stuff, shrug emoji). But the background soundscape has some nice weird touches. It's an inviting musical world, though not a real exciting one.
I know little about jazz, and next to nothing about jazz fusion, so I'm not real sure how to evaluate this. I thought it was pleasant but busy. Rumba Mamá seems out of place, and some of the other world music percussion touches like the steel drum also don't feel right to me. But what do I know? Birdland is good: I can see why it became a standard.
It's nice to return to a time when U2 didn't have all the complicated sociocultural baggage associated with them, and just admire this excellent early album. The earnestness feels sincere and anthemic and not too pompous. About half the album is just terrific, and the other half isn't any worse than most other 1983 post-punk stuff (we forgive the horn squalls on Red Light). Not quite up to The Unforgettable Fire level, but it's getting there.
This is okay. It's good "Let's hang out in 1995" music. The long song lengths and deliberate tempo don't really add up to excitement, but it grooves. They hung out with Oasis, I guess? I can hear it, but nothing here hits me in any way close to the way Morning Glory did. That's unfair: these guys are their own thing. They evoke William Blake in the first lines of History, to emo-effect, but I admire the attempt. I like the psychedelic stuff like Brainstorm Interlude best.
I fucking love PJ Harvey. It's nice that the randomizer spun up this particular album, which is the one I probably know the least. But maybe I know it least because I like it the least? Mmm, I think that's true. For me it doesn't have the blow-your-socks-off musical violence of the first albums or the stronger subtle songs and arrangements of later ones like Let England Shake and Hope 6. Does that make this album bad? Fuck no, I love PJ Harvey.
Never really got into these guys in the '90s. It feels nostalgic now, even though I don't recognize any of the songs. Lollapaloozish. Honestly I don't much care for this album: too dirge-y for me. Some of their later stuff I like better. Love the Angry Chair though. So angry!
Equivocal, we'll say, on gender issues, but I like that he murdered all those guys for his grandma. Rhythmically dull, but I suppose it's fine to dance to, and the background production keeps things interesting. I know so little about the trajectory of hip-hop that my evaluation is meaningless. Did I like it? Not really. Pops says it's probably not for me anyway, which I accept. "I went from bashful to asshole to international" is a world-class line though.
Nothing against this album, and I know a lot of people really love Bruce's early storytelling phase, but this one has never grabbed me. Badlands is good, but not as good as Thunder Road, Racing in the Street is good, but not as good as the songs on The River will be, etc. Don't get me wrong, this is good stuff, but I always find myself putting on Born to Run instead.
Oh this is hella charming. Even beyond the enormous talent on display, just the great good feeling generated by Vaughn as she puts on her best Ella Fitzgerald is enough to win my affection for life. Also I didn't realize before now that Honeysuckle Rose is the sexiest song of all time.
Oh, I like this! She ratchets between musical genres about three times per song, and it's all got Tom Waits-style percussion. Fascinating lyrics. One of the most unpredictable albums I can remember. 4/5 because I need to hear it more times to know whether it holds up well enough to get that last star. I bet it will though.
The name was familiar but I'd never heard this band before. It's like discovering some hidden chamber in pop music: I know the '70s stuff they're drawing on and I know their mid-'80s contemporaries, but I don't know this. It's good! But I can't attach to it the way I might've if I'd heard it at the time and I wish I could.
Indefensible but hilarious. Their reputation is built on the first two fantastic tracks but the rest of the album also has fun, if diminishing, returns: Gangsta Gangsta and Dopeman are a hoot. The whole band turned out to be assholes, but they earned their place in history. And fuck tha police.
