1001 Albums Summary

Listened to before? Yes Context of album? End of Simon and Garfunkel’s time as a duo, a clear departure from their usual sound, spawned countless hits that basically everyone has heard before, revolutionary production. *Reviewed in a song-by-song format* I don’t like when albums begin with the title track. It’s like being thrown into the deep end—a shocking plunge into the heart of an album rather than a journey along a narrative line of action. Sadly, this album does begin with the title track. However, it’s so good I can’t even be all that mad about it. The piano floats and swells perfectly—the vocals are careful, controlled, and technically impressive while also being incredibly raw. It’s just a perfect song. There’s nothing more I can say about it. El Condor begins with a similar feel, with its creepy intro, but the song becomes something bittersweet and thoughtful as the vocals start. The instrumentals are curious and thoughtful. The vocals are dreamy. Cecelia then begins with Afro-influenced drums, bringing the album’s danceability up significantly. It’s an amazing song, just like the previous two, but the transition into Keep the Customer Satisfied is entirely too sudden. It throws me off every time. Keep the Customer Satisfied is one of my favorites. The chorus is so satisfying and the fanfare trumpets add an excellent flare. Not to mention the lethal sarcasm. Just one hell of a song. So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright slows things down once more. It’s almost trance like, with the rhythmic vocals and the combination of mysterious flute, beautiful acoustic guitar, and rain-like drums. The melody of The Boxer is beautiful. The gentle arpeggios and “lie lie lies” paired with the crashing drum during the chorus and the occasional odd instrument are just fantastic, and allows the song to maintain a feeling of zoned-out thoughtfulness while remaining dynamic and interesting. The build up at the end is transcendent and the return to simple acoustic guitar makes for a perfect resolution. Baby Driver swings the emotional pendulum of the album back in the more Cecelia direction. It’s a fun, folksy song with a subtle biting undertone. There’s even the sound of a car amongst a jazzy solo, which escalates into the chaotic ending. Only Living Boy has a fantastic, introspective narrative with wonderful drum fills and background vocals that make for a perfectly dynamic song, with contrasting loud/quiet sections creating a middle ground between a nostalgia and a hope. Why Don’t You Write Me is physically impossible not to dance to. Despite the anger behind it, everything about it is relentlessly fun. It’s a perfect movie soundtrack song. Then there’s Bye Bye Love, which would be a sad song, except for the fact that it’s live, and the audience is beautifully energetic. Including a live take in an album—especially for a cover—is such a creative idea. The audience takes their cover from being good to being excellent. The fade out of audience cheers into the slow Song for the Asking beautifully summarizes the bittersweetness present throughout BOTW, with the ultimate ode to solitude and reflection amongst community and

Listened to before? Yes Context? Album full of 90s hits, a major label debut from a young punk band that achieved unexpected major success and brought punk mainstream amongst the brooding sounds of "grunge." *Reviewed in a holistic format* When we were little, my mom would play Dookie for my brother and me on car rides. She thought it would be tolerable for us, as we'd rejected every other punk band she tried to play for us (Dead Kennedys, MxPx, Hole, Minor Threat, Descendants, Sex Pistols...) save for the Ramones. She was right—it was tolerable—but I still asked her to turn it off. It sounded too much like that upbeat, careless music people in movies got into car crashes to. It stressed me out; the pop hooks and East-Bay-Johnny-Rotten vocals were the calm before the storm. While I now like every single band mentioned above, at the time, the only music I knew was what my gym teacher played while we ran laps. Still, despite my lack of knowledge, Green Day managed to get their point across. Like many young punks, this was the album that brought me into the genre. It was my go-to throughout my very early teens. From the very beginning of "Burnout" ("I declare I don't care no more/I'm burning up and out and growing bored") there was something instantly compelling about this album. Despite the discussions of panic attacks, poverty, anger, and the like, this was the lighter side of alternative rock, and I realized that before I even knew what "alternative rock" meant. It talked about anxiety and queer identity. It talked about anger and disillusionment with the world around you. It was lazy and pissed off and suburban and relentlessly catchy. It even had some cool drum fills just for the heck of it. While simple and not carrying the same emotional weight as other 90s albums (for example, Live Through This, The Downward Spiral, and Dummy all came out within just the same year) Dookie has a singularity to it. No other band has been able to replicate it, try as they might. And man, they really have tried. What Green Day is excellent at is the sheer breadth of emotion their songs cover. Any Green Day song worth its salt will fit into just about any circumstance, whether it be a road trip sing-along or a long day at school. Dookie does this better than any other Green Day album. While it may not have the stylistic diversity as Nimrod, or the high concept of American Idiot, there is a distilled, human essence in this album. The boredom. The frustration. The biting-at-your-nails anxiety. It's all relentlessly and beautifully casual. Green Day isn't a go-to band for me anymore, but they will always hold a special place in my heart. And I've gotten over my fear of playing them in the car, and now I blast this album through the speakers, alongside some Dead Kennedys, MxPx, Hole, Minor Threat, Descendants, Sex Pistols...

Listened to before? No Context? The band’s eleventh album, and the beginning of their huge commercial success, added more funk to their sound. *Reviewed in a song-by-song format* I was skeptical at first, because the first thirty seconds was obnoxious, but they had me at the chorus of That Lady. It’s not a particularly original song, but god it’s good. What makes it even better is the jam that ends it—a dance of ridiculously fun funk guitar and dance synth. The vibe is immediately changed with Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight, which features wonderfully raw vocals and a beautiful smattering of instrumentals, including a soulful and twinkling piano, soft drums, and a bluesy guitar. If You Were There immediately offers itself as a middle ground between the previous two songs. It’s fun—there’s plenty of funky guitar, and it’s relatively uptempo—but there’s a reflective tone from the very start that the lyrics only reinforce. The lyrics aren’t anything special, but they’re sung with conviction and passion. His voice is clean and he’s obviously a technically proficient singer, but he knows how to let his voice expertly crack on the emotional notes. I will say, at this point I am a bit tired of fade-outs. You Walk Your Way is a perfect follow up, thematically and sonically. It’s a song that would be perfect for a movie—it’s a song that makes me feel like I’m in a movie. The near-call-and-response vocal with the slightly-upbeat instrumentals are total perfection. Listen to the Music is the most danceable song since the opener, and it has these shuffled layers to it that just make you want to move around—incredibly fitting for what it’s about. Perfection, just like the last one. What It Comes Down To has some awesome synth and an impressive vocal performance. Once more, I love all the different textures. The guitar solo is also awesome. Sunshine is immediately different than the other songs, with a super sinister introduction, an immediate tenseness. The vocals and lyrics are the best of the album thus far. It has an amazing political edge to it and is probably my favorite on the record. The softer songs immediately return with Summer Breeze, which has some disgustingly fantastic guitar. Just absolutely transcendent. A fabulous centerpiece. And god, the mid-song return to the repetitive synth sound that was at the beginning…so perfectly done. Maybe I’m just really tired but this song is making me teary with how good it is. Right of the bat, Highways makes sense as a closing track. It has a pretty piano intro, and once the vocals start, they’re softer than they’ve been for a while. It almost put me to sleep, but in a good way.

Listened to before? Partially Context? The debut album of THE foundational metal band, explored a never-before-heard dark, sluggish, heavy sound *Reviewed in a holistic format* The fact that this album came to be due to a factory accident is all too fitting. There's a horror here that's very specifically working-class—a B-movie horror lurking beneath the lives of your average laborer and church-goer. It's the darkness webbed between the bare trees lining your walk home from school—the spirits flitting between the unkempt graveyard of the local chapel—an occult secret hanging like fog over the dreary Birmingham streets. A seminal heavy metal album, Black Sabbath's self-titled debut, in all its detuned guitar work and building tension, was something novel to the world of 1970. It drew upon classic literature such as Lord of the Rings (similar to Led Zeppelin) and H.P. Lovecraft to bring a fantastical darkness to life. Characters include mysterious figures, Satan, a wizard, corrupt politicians, and demons, positioned against vivid imagery and a gritty sonic landscape. The album is extremely focused, with only five songs spanning the length of forty minutes. The guitar work is impressive. Listening to this album, you can see why the genre is called "metal." It's as if Tony Iommi never quite left that sheet metal factory. Even the faster-paced riffs and solos have that detuned, sludgy bite to them (solo around the three-minute mark of "Wicked World," for example.) Outside of the heavy metal sound, there's a harmonica riff, as well as some clear blues and jazz influences. As unique as the album was for the time, there's a clear line of influence, which only serves to add more credit to the album. They managed to take the raw emotion of that blues sound and turn it into something dark. This is clearest in the melodies, sludgy riffs, and Ozzy Osbourne's style of singing. In front of any other instrumentals, he would be a blues singer. His vocals are another majorly impressive part of this album. The whole world of music fundamentally changed after hearing him yell "Oh, no, no! Please, God, help me!" on the opening track. And I'm glad it did.

Listened to before? Partially Context? A popular 80s hard rock album, with many ambiguous hits. Reviewed in a holistic format. I have a personal vendetta against mainstream hard rock music. It's trashy without political subtext. It's relentlessly masculine (and often misogynistic). It reminds me of those white middle aged couples that go to sports games and get drunk and start making out. Still, I have to credit "Living On a Prayer" for being a huge factor in getting me into rock music, even if I did end up going on a much more alternative route. It and "You Give Love a Bad Name" are undeniably great songs. I'd even say "Let It Rock" is a pretty good song. The rest are okay at best: very heavily dated and cushion for the smash hits. The whole album is also very one-note and can get it old when it's not being exceptional. Ultimately, I feel the same way about this album as I do about songs like "Party in the USA": unless I'm at some kind of fun event, where everyone's singing along, I don't want to hear it. And even then, in an ideal world, we'd be singing along to "Wild in the Streets" by the Circle Jerks rather than "Wild in the Streets" by Bon Jovi.

Listened to before? No Context? Bob Marley’s first album without the other two Wailers, considered a standard of his career. Reviewed in a holistic format. I don’t know a whole lot about reggae, unless it’s reggae-punk (The Slits, The Clash, etc…). I’ve listened to Exodus before, though, and I’d rank it among the top 100 albums of all time. Still, it’s easy enough for me to see the influences—the soul and funk throughout—as well as to tell that this album is GOOD. While not incredibly diverse sonically, Marley’s voice carries a huge weight, and it’s relentlessly danceable. The bass, especially, is great. Songs like “Lively Up Yourself” and “No Woman, No Cry” contrast wonderfully with the likes of “Them Belly Full (But We Hungry)” and “Revolution”, which both have an strong bite to them beneath all the staccato rhythms and trumpets. The lyrics are what makes this album what it is. They have hope, love, warning, and a call to action. They’re deeply political even in their most personal moments.

Listened to before? Yes Context? A hardcore staple from the SoCal scene, the band’s debut. Reviewed in a holistic format. It’s always nice to have an album where the number of tracks is greater than the runtime. My favorite type of music is the stuff that makes you ask “how’d we get from Mozart to THIS? Whose idea was it, anyway?” In other words: this. This is an undeniable staple of hardcore, from the short songs to the probably-carpel-tunnel-inducing riffs to the vocals that switch abruptly from searing aggression to taunting snark. While more party than political, it even inspired the likes of Bad Religion and Pennywise. Punk as a whole wouldn’t be the same without this album. The devil-may-care attitude throughout is infectious. After listening to this, I immediately found myself reaching for Minor Threat, Bikini Kill, and Bad Religion. While I think Wild in the Streets is the superior Circle Jerks album, with more political lyrics and snarkier vocals, this album isn’t diminished by it.

Listened to before? No Context? The album that propelled them into stardom; considered to arguably be their best. *Reviewed in a holistic format* "Shining Star" has to be the universal childhood song. Even if you've literally never heard it before, it's your childhood song, somehow. It just has that power. That universal goodwill is really what defines this album. Everything is about connection and reassurance. "You'll find peace of mind"—"don't stop caring for one another"—"you got to love you"—"I'm a blossom in the sun." It's so positive that I'd find it obnoxious if it were lesser sonically. Instead, this is an album that actually puts me in a better mood. I honestly haven't met a single person who doesn't like EW&F. Again: they're universal. But, yeah, it is great sonically. The bass in this thing is incredible. I love the funk guitars. It uses the more "dramatic" instruments in all the right places, sparing the listener from an overload of fanfare that so many albums of this time period and genre tend to have. It's also very rhythmically complex. The standout in terms of that is obviously "Africano". Man, is that an amazing song. I will say...I don't like "Reasons". I can't stand that song. His falsetto is really annoying. It's the one song on here that actually does piss me off with it's overwhelming positivity and lovey-dovey-ness. The instrumentals are good, but man, please drop it down an octave or two. The human voice is an instrument, and this type of falsetto singing just reminds me of a really self-indulgent guitar solo or perhaps some shriek-y harmonica. I will say, the backing vocals are amazing, at least. My only other critique of this album is that the talking on "All About Love" very heavily dated it. It's also just...bad. The lyrics and vibes do make up for it, but it's not a great addition. Despite that, I would put this as one of the all-time best soul-funk albums. I genuinely don't know who could dislike this thing as a whole. There's a song on here for anyone and everyone.

Listened to before? No Context? His breakthrough album, with the opener/title track being a smash hit. *Reviewed in a holistic format* Opening an album with the best song always seems like a bad move. And the opener here was the best song by far. The way he sings in “Let’s Stay Together” has an addicting quality to it, and the instrumentals are beautiful. Of course, just because the first song is the best doesn’t mean the rest are bad. Immediately afterwards, you get “La-La For You”, which has some fantastic guitar. In fact, the guitar was probably my favorite part of this whole album. Which, googling it…the guitarist was Drake’s uncle? Too bad his talent didn't get passed down the family tree… My thoughts on this album are pretty simple: it’s a good soul pop record. Not great, not bad, not average—good. Excellent instrumentals with amazing vocals (though the vocal style is not my cup of tea). It was even fairly revolutionary for the softness of which he sang and presented himself lyrically. Even the album’s political leanings are presented in a very personal manner in the title track, which at surface level reads as being about a relationship. There aren’t many highlights outside of the first two songs, except for maybe “Old Time Lovin”. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing. There isn’t a whole lot of sonic diversity, but that’s okay, because it’s meant to be chill: something to slow dance to or put on while reading a book in your living room. There’s more emotion to it if you’re a huge fan, of course, but unless you dissect the lyrics or are the type to feel the brass section in your bones, it’s a good radio song. And I mean all that as a compliment. Maybe not a huge compliment, but as a compliment.

Listened to before? Yes Context? One of the biggest and earliest albums of the early 70s singer-songwriter movement; features James Taylor's first hits as well as some of his most successful; strongly critically acclaimed, though not entirely overwhelmingly so. As with a lot of singer-songwriter albums of this time period, I found myself listening, and thinking "wow! These are a lot of covers!" before looking at the songwriting credits and realizing...oh wow, these songs are all originals. I hadn't heard a lot of them before, but even those I felt like I'd heard before. The melodies are so perfect that they feel like standards. Sure, it's a dated album. Very 70s singer-songwriter, and the early rock n roll, folk, soul, and all-around Americana can occasionally toe the line of derivative. But the songs are just so good that it doesn't even matter. Not to mention that the melodies are utterly timeless. The instrumentation is also incredibly tasteful—which is impressive for a second album. What many artists seem to struggle with early on in their careers is knowing when to strip back on arrangements and add dynamics to their songs—to let them marinate before piling everything on. But it seems as if Taylor has it figured out. The arrangements and instrumentation are all beautifully mapped out to maximize the emotional affect. The emotional affect is kind of insane. It's a very happy album—from the opener about his love for his nephew to the closer detailing his love for rock n roll. A lot of singer-songwriter music tends to focus on sad subject matter, which is perfectly fine and honestly what I personally prefer, but it's always refreshing to see a poet who writes about love and its relation to humanity rather than pain. It's a very calming album. I swear, my blood pressure dropped while listening to it. I remember my parents singing "Sweet Baby James" to my younger brother when he was a baby. Maybe there's some sort of bias from that memory, but I honestly don't think so. I was sort of primed to dislike this album because the cover makes him look like a serial killer, and I'm not a huge fan of Americana stuff, but God, these songs were classics before they were written.

Listened to before? No Context? Beck's breakthrough album following the his hit "Loser", securing him in the 90s canon; considered arguably his best album. *Reviewed in a holistic format.* If somebody asked me what "slacker pop" was, I'd play them this album. I mean, it's the natural conclusion of the 90s. You have Nirvana making alternative mainstream—specifically, the slow, laidback sounds of grunge. You have hip-hop/rap hitting the mainstream. You have artists like Alanis Morissette blending pop with alternative rock and singer/songwriter sensibilities. Odelay is like taking all of that and putting it in a blender. It's like Sonic Youth had a baby with Eric B. & Rakim. I can imagine Beck taking the same approach to rapping as Rakim, with sitting down and all to get that laid-back sound. While definitely not as good as Rakim—I mean, high bar, so doesn't mean too much—he gets his point across. It's artsy, but it isn't high-brow. It's full of noisy fuzz, but it's infectiously melodic. It's city-folk and alternative-pop and slacker-jazz and funk that makes you do some self-reflection. Like any good hip-hop record, there are layers of samples and noise that feel as if they were created through some "so what if..." and heavy use of Ctrl+C/Ctrl+V. Every track is its own collage, and the sonic palette knows no limits, but its cohesive through the overlay of fuzz and the—I apologize immensely for this terminology—vibes. There, I said it. There are some great vibes here. I was trying to get through this review without saying "vibes", but we all knew there was no chance of that. While things do get a bit repetitive, even that feels purposeful. It's like a fifty minute jam or a psychedelic record or an ambient album. I'd have to say that my favorite song on here is "Jack-Ass". The folkiness of it is so perfectly done, and the lyrics combined with his vocal style are so beautifully calm. This is definitely a song I'm putting on as much as humanly possible during Autumn. I'm torn between a four and a five here. My primary criticisms boil down to: a bit repetitive and a little too vibe-centric. I mean, as good as it is, it's still like if you distilled you're local Vans store into an album. But there's something to be said about capturing that so perfectly. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it. Ultimately, I will have to go with a four. It's a bit bloated and it'd feel disingenuous to give this the highest rating allowed. This is one of those instances where I wish it were out of ten, so I could give it a more nuanced 8/10. That said, I would say this is a very important album, as it was an early example of genre-blending with rap in pop—as well as a precursor to 21st century alternative-pop and indie. I would also say this is an excellent, creative album. And, really, that creativity may be what compelled him to leave so many unnecessary tracks on here, and that's okay. I'm in complete favor of artists throwing ideas at the wall and ending up with a bloated final project because of it, as long as they're the ones throwing the ideas rather than some focus group. Also, I love the dog on the cover so much. Fun fact I learned while doing some background research on this album is that Beck accidentally ended up living down the street from the dog's puppy!

Listened to before? No Context? Follow up to Master of Puppets and first album after the death of Cliff Burton; complex musically and a break away from a lot of the "pop" songwriting formats seen on the likes of Master of Puppets. *Reviewed in a holistic format.* Man. Okay. The mix of this album makes me feel like I'm trying to spread cold butter over stale bread. I do not understand why they would make that choice. I don't even care about the light bass or anything—whatever. But what were they thinking with how dry the mix is. It made it genuinely painful to listen to at times. I don't understand how these bands have millions of dollars and access to the very best producers around yet still end up messing it up. This record was very high-concept, from the album cover to the over-an-hour-long runtime. That said, I didn't feel like it said much. Obviously, it's a very political album, and the lyrics tackle those sorts of topics—primarily, the subject matter of false freedom and false justice. But I can't really say that it said anything that made me think of things in a new way, or that it told a story that presented an interesting emotional or philosophical angle on anything described. Looking at other political albums, there's always a very specific angle. American Idiot is from the perspective of a young working class couple and their struggles with mental health, survival, and agency under the Bush administration. Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables satirizes those in power through absurd lyrics and attitudes mixed with harsh and unsettling descriptions. To Pimp a Butterfly tells a story interconnected by the formation of a poem and the struggles of Black music industry figures dealing with the ramifications of racism even after gaining cultural power. Rage Against the Machine mixes call-to-action with lyrics that go so in-depth into the nuances of issues that they can nearly function as history lessons. And in this album, Metallica says...there's no justice? Okay. I understand that, due to the genre, there aren't going to be as many lyrics, but I feel like that should just mean that each line carries even more weight. There are exceptions, of course. Parts of the title track are pretty good, such as the lines "Lady justice has been raped/Truth assassin/Rolls of red tape seal your lips." There's some pretty potent imagery and metaphor here, but moments like those are few and far between. I'd say that the only songs I thoroughly enjoyed were "One" and "Dyers Eve", and then "Blackened" was pretty good, too. "One" actually cuts to a pretty great emotional core, and with "Dyers Eve", the anger in his voice seems to be actual anger instead of just generic metal vocals. Then "Blackened" just has good riff and melody, but I don't like it as much because the lyrics just follow such a typical Metallica-cadence in the rhyme and flow. If this album had a better mix, I feel like there could have almost been an excuse for the lack of substance, because it would've given the songs more character. The dry mix makes all of the riffs sound like copyright-free metal. All the riffs also sound pretty similar, anyway. And yes, before anyone says anything, I do listen to metal quite frequently. The mix also makes the solos sound super out-of-place, and it just makes the vocals boring. It becomes very one-note. It's disappointing, as I do really like Metallica, and the idea of a political album from them should be very exciting. Sadly, the execution was way off. What I did like was the unconventionality of it. I appreciate the odd song structures as well as the longer songs. It would also work well as background music for a movie, and I mean that in a good way. It's heavy. It's dramatic and dark. In terms of mood, there isn't much improvement that could be made.

Listened to before? Yes Context? Flaming Lips' "comeback" album after essentially being boxed in as 90s one-hit wonders; made at the same time they were working on several other artistic projects. *Reviewed in a holistic format* Flaming Lip’s 2002 release, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, is like any good cult classic: odd, niche, and quality in a way that nothing front-and-center of the mainstream can quite capture. There’s a sort of futuristic melancholy to it, and the imagery is of a world exactly like that of the album cover—like if OK Computer was a children’s cartoon. “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Pt 1” is an obvious and fantastic standout here, with campy lyrics that tie this album into something almost concept-like. The song sounds both deeply human and impossibly futuristic, combining downtrodden vocals and acoustics with odd electronics and—at the very end—an extremely satisfying panning effect that sounds like slipping out of your own body. This album is one of those things that makes me just love art. It tells a story. The cover is perfect. There’s a strong, cohesive mood. Even the history of this album, with Flaming Lips working on a film and a film soundtrack at the same time as this, is amazing. Certain artists just feel truly artistic to me—David Bowie, My Chemical Romance, Patti Smith—and this album gives me the same sense that their work does.

Listened to before? No Context: Considered to be a classic power-pop album and a perfect example of raw rock n roll energy; Cheap Trick's best selling record. This is so so so so so rock n roll. There's no other way to describe it. Just absolutely rock n roll. This is one of those live albums that I actually enjoy. It has great energy to it and the recording is solid. It also captures the—once more—rock n roll energy of Cheap Trick better than their studio stuff. I'd be thrilled to be at this concert. It sounds like a hell of a good time. That said, it's hard to give a live album a perfect rating. There's little cohesion to it, as most live albums are just the best sellers mixed with some new material, and hearing the crowd is annoying at times. That said, this album comes sort of close, I guess. Just absolutely rock n roll—not much else to say.

Listened to before? No Context? The band's second album; very critically-acclaimed. At the first song, I was unsure. That vibrato was too much. I couldn't tell what she was saying whatsoever. The piano was very lo-fi but not charmingly so—just sort of grating. However, by the three minute mark, they'd won me over. It's raw. It's beautiful. The piano ended up being absolutely fantastic. The vocals remind me a lot of Nina Simone in the expressiveness and range. It also very much comes off as soul-influenced, even though it's more art-pop. It's easy to get so caught up in the raw vocals and beautiful piano and strings that you almost miss the lyrics, which are deeply personal, yet still highly distilled. They explore themes of transgenderism in a very interesting way, with a hopeful, almost childlike sentiment ("For Today I Am A Boy") as well as a sort of horror that drowns under the beautiful arrangements ("Lady Story"). There's also discussions of relationships, both good ("You Are My Sister") and bad ("Fistful of Love"). Speaking of the latter, it's easily the best song on the album. Just absolutely stellar. Somebody tried to talk to me when I was listening to it and I shanked them on the spot. There was a lot of blood. Jokes aside, it nearly moved me to tears. The brass section—the passion in her voice—the lyricism—just 100/10 all around. On the subject of what this album does brilliantly, man, the cover being a picture of a transgender Warhol actress on her death bed while the title is "I Am a Bird Now"? Just...wow. Real quick, I will say some things I really didn't like, though. For one, I've listened to this album four times now, and I still can't stand the first three minutes. Maybe because it takes me some time to adjust to her voice. Oh, man, her voice. It's not bad by any means. In fact, it's quite good. But that doesn't change the fact that I want to shake her by the shoulders and yell "CUT IT OUT WITH THE VIBRATO." Similarly, the mixing for the vocals isn't great. Especially the backing vocals. For the record, I don't mind lo-fi whatsoever—my favorite genre is punk—but it can be grating when there's a genuine attempt for it to be good, and it isn't, while at the same time there is a disgusting amount of vibrato. As a side note, I'd like to see Anohni sing a Green Day song, because Billie Joe Armstrong uses, like, absolutely zero vibrato in his voice. It would be really funny. Despite all that, I can't bring myself to dock a star from this album. It's just so beautifully raw. It's so artistic and poetic and all of those good things. The beauty here outweighs any overused vibrato or bad mixing. While reading the Wiki page, I saw that it mentioned a music critic from Tiny Mix Tapes who said "I'd put on my music critic's cap and dive into scrutiny, but I am too enraptured by the artist's music." And yeah, that's exactly how I feel. 100%.

Listened to before? Yes Context? The first album where The Monkees had any significant creative control; a huge commercial success as well. This is my second attempt at the 1001 Albums project. I got this album my first attempt. I'm pretty tired, as I spent seven hours of this blessed Sunday at a Panera writing a paper for chemistry, with only some cold matzo ball soup, thirty ounces of lukewarm coffee, and an M&M cookie to sustain me. So, of course, I was excited to get an album I'd already reviewed! I could copy and paste the review from my last project! But, of course, I was a stupid idiot three months ago. Looking at my old project, the only comments I'd left on this album was a three star rating and the sentence "pretty good but what the frick is this album cover". So now I sit here, waiting for my two (2) vegan chicken nuggies to finish cooking, using my last braincell to write a review of a band that's considered rock n roll's first great embarrassment. But hey, at least I don't have to cite any sources. I stand by both of my original statements, but I would like to elaborate. First, to say that I'm sympathetic towards The Monkees. They may have been created as a K-Pop-level corporate abomination, but they also had genuine artistic interest that they fought their label to pursue. I mean, there's a reason that Minor Threat covered "Stepping Stone". Just saying. This was the first album where they really saw that fight for artistic control pay off. They got to play their own instruments (wow!) and choose their producer. And the result is...decent. It's still very much a "but we have The Beatles at home!" scenario, but at least there's passion. And none of the songs are bad. Commonplace? Yes. Derivative? 100%. But definitely not bad. Just some good 60s pop songs. But seriously, what the frick is the album cover.

Listened to before? Yes Context? REM's most successful album, as well as their first with their longtime producer; expanded their sonic palette and featured a handful of hits. I have a love/hate relationship with REM. Their music is very nostalgic for me, but at the same time, I find that they have a lot of songs that sound exactly the same. Outside of their hits, they can get quite boring. This album, however, has no duds. It's also incredibly diverse sonically, from the heavy one-chord riff of "Finest Worksong" to the sax solo on "Fireplace" to the dulcimer on "King of Birds". Not to mention the production ("Lightnin'" and "151", for example). From just the first three songs, you can tell that it's great. They cover three of the most important types of political songs just between them: absolute banger, haunting, and satire that devolves into chaos. "Exhuming McCartney" is reminiscent of Dead Kennedys. And man, is the lyricism excellent. There's nothing too on-the-nose, but it's still scathing. "Copper, steel, and cattle." "Held and dyed and skinned alive". "Loyal to Bank of America." Just the absolute tension of Stipe repeating "Something's going on and it's not quite right." And, of course, there's "It's the End of the World". It has to be one of the best songs of all time. The absolute genius of the lyricism—the perfect shaking of his voice—the background vocals saying "I think I need some time alone"—even the title. I was blown away by this song when I was six, and I still am today. And right after it is "The One I Love". About six months ago, I went through a phase where I listened to that song on loop for about two weeks straight. And man, was I so correct in doing that. It's also probably one of the best songs of all time. The guitar work on this album may actually be underrated. The solo of "151" is really, really creative. And the ability to create such a great riff out of one chord ("Finest Worksong") is impressive as hell. The bass is also fantastic—especially the way its mixed. It always peeks out at just the right times. This is really just the kind of political album I love: subtle-but-harsh, and working primarily through non-enumerations, except for the occasional moment where it really needs to drive the point home. It's smart. It's also brilliantly melodic. Despite the fact that it's down-to-earth, this album is quite grand. I can definitely see how the tension in it went on to inspire albums like OK Computer, and how it paved the way for the alt-rock boom of the 90s.

Listened to before? Yes Context? Considered a seminal hip-hop record, and one of the best rap records of all time. That transition into Butter was smooth…like…like butter… Sorry. Anyways. I’ve listened to this once before and I didn’t really like it. But that was before I’d really gotten into rap, or even music in general. Because of that, I sort of sighed when I got this. Five seconds in, I immediately changed my mind. The production is absolutely insane. Just super jazzy and some awesome bass. And some super fun funk elements. Man…my one problem is some of the lyrics. Which yeah, I know: 90s rap album isn’t PC. Fork found in kitchen or whatever the kids these days say. Which is why I’m just…keeping myself blissfully unaware. Just letting the ✨vibes✨ and production do the talking. They really do have the “Vibes and Stuff”. But, in the words of Mr. Quest himself: “your lyrics is BUTT.” (ALSO complete jumpscare by the Donald Trump mention. Skypager is a great song with some of the best production of the whole thing but WOW that was that scary.) Actually, the lyrics aren’t bad for all of it, though. The lyricism is good when women aren’t involved. Show Business has some awesome lyrics, as a good example. It’s just that the, uh, eighth track does not. Bro really wrote the lyrics “sweetheart we ain’t goin out like that” and thought that was something good to put out into the world. Sadly, it is then followed up by the utterly fantastic percussion on Check the Rhime. So here I am, praising misogynistic men because they made good art. Again. But yes, back to that art aspect! I can definitely see how influential the production was. It reminds me a lot of the jazzy-ness of To Pimp a Butterfly, and the general build/dynamics of the instrumental definitely seems like it could’ve been a blueprint for OutKast. Jazzy hip-hop will always be one of my favorite subgenres of hip-hop. Just the ultimate blend for smoothness. Smooth…like butter… My favorite song has to be “What?” Just a perfect mix of political and funny. Scenario and Excursions are also fantastic.

Listened to before? Partially, because in the end, it's inescapable... Context? Linkin Park's debut, and the album that launched them into the mainstream. I do not like Linkin Park. They are overproduced as hell. I find them boring. The lyricism is raw, and I respect that, but it's also quite stale. They're Evanescence for people who think drinking Monster is an aesthetic and edgy personality trait. Not that Evanescence isn't sort of that already, I guess. I'm gonna go into this with a positive mindset, though. I have a lot of friends who like them, and those friends are all great artists, so I'm sure they have some taste... Aaaaaand my primary comment is: what is that sound at the end of Points of Authority? It sounds like a cartoon duck going da da da da-da, da-da-da-da-da-da as a parody of a Linkin Park song, rather than an actual part of a Linkin Park song. Anyway, yeah: I'll start with the positive. They use dual vocals very well. In the End is also a pretty great song, with that piano and all, and the sheer desperation in his voice. It's also very honest, which I have a lot of respect for. And now the negative. I played guitar in a music collective with this annoying guy once. He was a great guitarist when it came to playing these downtuned nu-metal riffs. He had one of those bluetooth guitars for some weird reason. And he owned, like, ten Korn shirts. We were planning on doing a bunch of covers of 2000s songs at a local bar. In rehearsal, we were trying to decide which songs to play. I'm a huge Rage Against the Machine fan, so I jokingly go, "Oh, they're a 2000s band, right? Because Battle of Los Angeles came out 1999 and then there was that covers album?" He proceeds to turn around, give me the nastiest look known to man, and recount RATM's entire timeline to me. Mind you, I was literally wearing an Evil Empire shirt. Not a good start. There was also a time when I was literally turning the gain up on my amp, and he comes over and goes "oh, the volume knob is here." This happened half a dozen times throughout those rehearsals, to a point where my friend and I say "volume knob" instead of "mansplaining." Which, mind you, there was another guitarist there, and he never did anything like that to him. Felt oddly misogynistic... Anyway, you can probably guess that this guy loved Linkin Park. He loved loved loved turning up his amp to the nth degree and showing off that he could play such-and-such riff in drop-z or something while creating a one-man wall-of-sound effect. He's the only stereotypical Linkin Park fan I've ever met, though. All the other ones I know are my friends, who are obnoxious, sure, but they're very sensitive people. They're artistic and self-aware. They like the band because they can place these really personal issues over the backdrop of a killer riff. I can see both people in this album: the obnoxious and the sensitive. I don't think you can write these lyrics without going through some genuine pain. But, at the same time, you're still assaulting peoples' eardrums with a storm of down-tuned guitars and the most compressed vocals known to man. I don't think an artist's fans should reflect too strongly on the artist themselves, but I think it does reflect on what the outward draw of their art is. Here, it seems to be drama. The big, loud riffs. The lyricism that's so on-the-nose it's got it's finger up its nostril and through its own brain. The rapping and screaming twisting together to reach peak banger-dom. That drama may make songs like In The End undeniable bangers, but it takes away much of its artistic merit. I really just don't feel like they have anything interesting or new to say about their subject matter. I'm glad that they're putting their struggles into art, but as art under scrutiny of critique, it doesn't hold up. Why would I listen to somebody just...saying things, when I could listen to somebody reframing their struggles through a unique lens that speaks to me as a person, rather than a one-size-fits-all narrative? I certainly do get the appeal. It's a compulsion to head-bang to this thing. The vocals really are desperate, and I can imagine having a long day and screaming along. Maybe sitting in the backseat of a car, blasting this through a pair of old headphones. Ultimately, this album sounds like a heroic way to die. I wish there was something more poetic in here. I wish that all the life hadn't been sucked out of the compressed vocals and canned riffs. These guys are obviously talented and have the cathartic edge to make something great, but instead they vacuum-sealed this thing in some plastic wrap and broad appeal.

Listened to before? Yes Context? One of Metallica's best-selling albums; widely considered one of their best, as well as the beginning of them stepping away from thrash metal and into more refined heavy metal with shorter songs. This is the second Metallica album I've gotten on the list, and thank god it's better than the last. I wasn't a fan of "...And Justice For All". Sure, the compositions were fine, but the production was physically painful, and the lyrics were reaching for heights they just couldn't quite get to. "The Black Album" is much, much better. As much as Metallica was at odds with their producer throughout the whole thing, Bob Rock did a great job. The guitars don't sound like a scraped knee, and the bass is present. Beyond the mix, there's also more complexity in the sonic palette, with some cleaner vocals and orchestral instrumentals such as cellos. It's a solid metal album from start to finish. Each song is interesting, and while I do think one or two could've been cut (especially given the runtime), none of them are bad. The lyricism is also much better than on "...And Justice For All". There are very specific stances taken against things such as self-victimization ("Misery"), aspects of cruelty in our culture ("Of Wolf And Man") and arrogance ("Holier Than Thou"), rather than broad criticisms with little personality to support them. That said, I do find "Don't Tread On Me" to be cheesy. But, just for the record, I'd find it cheesy no matter what political stance he was taking (which, it being "Don't Tread On Me" doesn't really signify much of a political stance beyond some level of anti-government thinking, anyway). He could've growled "WOMEN'S RIGHTS" or "SAVE THE PUPPIES" at the end and I still would've had the same reaction—which was pausing briefly to faceplant. I also find it really funny that not one—not two—but THREE members of this four-person band were going through a divorce during the making of this album. And you can really hear it. These lyrics are petty as hell at times—admittedly, all lyrics I found myself relating to, but still. Wow. I know James Hetfield must have been in hell, but it's also really funny imagining him playing some kind of therapist role in it all. Also, apparently the working title of this album was "Married to Metal" as a joke about all the marriage troubles. Geez. As much as I find the sheer amount of divorced-male-metal-head stereotype going on here funny, it really does make the album great. Sure, this album may be them stepping into a more polished sound, but it's also still so, so angry and dark—from the cover to the lyricism to the aggressive playing. According to Bob Rock, they were using the recording sessions for this album as a catharsis for all the turmoil in their personal lives, and it really shows. I have got to say: I'm not a big fan of Metallica's lyricism. I want to like it. I do actually like a lot of it. They're really good with imagery, symbolism, honesty—all that good stuff. But god, the rhyme schemes are just a tad bit too Seussian for my liking. Very little use of any sort of complex rhyming. They're always hitting that end vowel like it's another guitar chug. Please, dear lord, use some good old slant rhymes. I'm begging you. But as much as I like to make fun of them, Metallica is quite good, and this album is pretty awesome. The songs are infectious and—as the kids these days say—straight bangers. I wouldn't say it's as good as Master of Puppets, but it's up there. I also like that they stepped away from being so complex in the guitar parts. As much as I love some good leads, they can get boring. Like wow! Another technically insane solo! And two minutes longer than the last one???? It allows the song to have more of an identity. Sure, Metallica has some indisputably great solos, but they're often solos more aligned to genre than to song. For example, imagine swapping the solos on Blackened and Dyer's Eve (adjusting for key, tempo, etc—whatever) versus, say, swapping the solos on, Paranoid Android and Electioneering. And I'm not saying every band that plays solos has gotta be as experimental as Radiohead—especially given genre conventions—but if you aren't, I don't want to hear ten minutes worth of solos per album. Sure, it's a staple of Metallica and most metal, but that doesn't make it enjoyable. I don't care how precisely you have to hit the harmonic of the "Master of Puppets" solo, that doesn't mean I wanna hear it repeatedly rather than. Y'know. An actual song. Also, simplicity on the part of the rhythm guitar means makes the songs on this so infectious. The groove is dug in there like a gouge through a linoleum print. I give Metallica a lot of hate, but I mean most of it pretty light-heartedly. They're good songwriters and have multiple solid albums under their belt, and I would say this definitely qualifies as a solid album.

Listened to before? Yes Context? Radiohead’s second album and what’s considered to be their first masterpiece. How does one, in the span of merely two years, go from writing songs like “Thinking About You” to masterpieces such as “Street Spirit (Fade Out)”? How do lyrics transform from the blatant sneers of something almost as Sex-Pistols-esque as “How Do You?” to the cleverness of “My Iron Lung”? Was it belated puberty? Extensive devotion to the songwriting craft? Exhaustion? It wasn’t like Radiohead didn’t have songwriting ability beforehand. Just look at songs like “Creep” or “Anyone Can Play Guitar”. In the former, you had Yorke’s wide vocal range and raw lyricism on full display, as well as odd chord progressions and experimental guitar technique. In the latter, you have biting satire that manages to be both personal and political (as things often are) as well as drenched in noise. But there’s something so much greater about The Bends. Maybe it’s the pauses taken throughout—something lacking in Pablo Honey—or maybe it’s the heights they reached for. Maybe it was a newfound awareness of the surrounding world. Radiohead’s roots are present. There’s still the band with the spazz of a singer who called Jim Morrison fat, ugly, and dead before nearly drowning himself. There’s still the guy who plays guitar like he’s trying to ride a bucking horse. But they’re stepping up to the studio with the wisdom of seasoned people-watchers. The songs unfold like a pulse reverberating against a fingertip. Yorke tends to write about others more than himself. The album is full of grocery store personalities. Wives and husbands. Reckless young men. It’s all very empathetic; he mourns the situations of those around him. This is what makes the song “Bullet Proof” so particularly shocking. It’s entirely in first person. It’s the people-watcher going home after a day out. You can picture the barren kitchen—the dark room. There’s all this exhaustion from seeing so much bad. Masterfully located after it is “Black Star”—the climax of the album: the point where this defeated observer attempts to reach out after all this time as a bystander. It revolves around this central figure who is deeply unhappy, but refuses to acknowledge the true root of that unhappiness. The observer is begging them to see what is truly wrong, but ultimately has to step away from the situation. And, of course, there’s the perspective change in “Fake Plastic Trees”—arguably the best song on the album. A beautiful ballad about consumerism, it tells the story of a deeply unhappy woman, who lives in a place folding in on itself—who’s married to a man who’s life work is defeated by something as basic and constant as gravity. Neither of them have a purpose, and they both claw desperately at a passionate, reckless way out. By the end of the song, the previous third person refrain of “it wears [her/him] out” switches to the first person “it wears me out”. Listening, you can imagine Yorke seeing this couple in the grocery store, using them as vessels for this emotional critique before turning inward to examine the weight all this bears on him as well. When the song builds to a downpour of acid rain, obscuring the details of the events in favor of raw emotion, everyone involved is soaked. When the downpour stops, you’re reminded that the observer is there as well. Whether you as a listener identify with the third or first person narrative doesn’t matter. Just as what is presented later in “Black Star”, this is a collective suffering. “Fake Plastic Trees” almost feels like the natural conclusion of the “I don’t care if it hurts/I want to have control/I want a perfect body/I want a perfect soul” part of “Creep”, as well as the thesis of the album as a whole: the artificial against the real. This is even presented in the album cover; it looks like the crash test dummy has found Nirvana. This theme is pretty strong throughout, but there’s never quite a consistency to how it’s presented. “Kill yourself for recognition”. “I don’t want to be a krippled kracked”. “Prozac painkillers”. “A lack of oxygen from my life support/my iron lung”. The observer struggles as much as their subjects. Of course, all of this vulnerability and despair is tempered with anger and snark. “My Iron Lung” practically predicted the modern day Facebook aunt or the teen using ChatGPT for an essay. “Just” has the famous refrain of “you do it to yourself/you do/and that’s what really hurts”. The observer even pulls himself out of mourning the lives of these sad people, straight-up saying “you don’t get my sympathy”. “Sulk”—which is probably the weakest song on the album, despite still being quite good—contains the biting line “just like your dad/you’ll never change”. This is what really makes the emotional depth and nuance of the album. For all the empathy the observer has for the people trapped in the box of consumerism and conformity and mental illness and performative nonsense, they’re also rightfully angry at the stupidity and lack of courage that led them into that trap in the first place. There’s no single way the observer feels about everything; it’s all in conflict. The observer even fears falling into that trap themself on “Bones”, which laments the physical and mental toll of life and how that wears on youth. Which, as a retail worker with chronic pain. Yeah. Accurate. While “Bones” was written about the negative effects of touring, its emotional connotations extend well beyond that context. After all, if you’re Jonny Greenwood, you’re probably pretty worried about getting carpel tunnel or crippling neck pain. Not only because it leads to physical pain and means you can’t play your instrument on the same technical level, but because that instrument and your dynamics and the way in which you play it in a live setting is an emotional expression. The same could apply to any young person wanting to make a change, but worn down and afraid the world will steal their passion. “The Bends” (title track) captures a similar anxiety, holding all of the subject matter of the album in the palm of its hands. There’s political unrest. Nostalgia. A sense of waiting for something bad to happen. And, again: an artificial life support, as he’s “lying in the bar with [his] drip feed on”. There’s such anxiety in it—a sense of “just let it happen already—get it over with”. Anxiety is a feeling Radiohead does extremely well. While it’s brought to new heights as the emotional foundation of OK Computer, it’s also what makes much of The Bends so lyrically rich. “Street Spirit (Fade Out)” is a perfect closer. The main riff sounds like trying to run from impending death. It’s probably the bleakest the band gets to. The observer has snapped and spiraled. While it offers no hope, it does offer catharsis. While the observer, the subject, and the listener blur into a muddled haze, what stays constant is the shared emotional experience; they can descend together. On a sonic level, Radiohead takes things to a much more complex level than on Pablo Honey. It’s not that Pablo Honey didn’t already have its fair share of technical playing, but it was pretty much pure noise. The Bends takes deep breaths. It knows how to build. “My Iron Lung” does this the best, with the octave-shifted arpeggios slowly building to distorted choruses, complete with slap bass and all. Then there are the ballad-y builds in “High and Dry” as well as “Fake Plastic Trees”, and the insane dynamics of “Just”. “High and Dry” has what’s probably the most tasteful guitar solo of Radiohead’s career. And it’s hard to imagine that Jonny Greenwood, who’d been so angry about how quiet “Creep” was, had matured enough to include the great number of slow acoustic songs on The Bends. Not that he still doesn’t make himself heard loud and clear, of course—and thank god for that. The Bends is, at its core, just an amazing guitar album, from the songwriting to the experimentation to the tone. There’s also the use of some more effects, with a lot of octave shifting and delay. It seems to be the first album where Ed O’Brien stepped beyond simply gluing together Yorke’s and Greenwood’s guitar parts with distortion, and started adding more dynamic textures. Thom Yorke brought out some of his higher vocals as well. It was clear from songs like “Creep” that he knew how to sing that high, but it seemed as if he was almost ashamed of it. He was going for that more angry, snarling sound. After all, it was ‘93: the successful alt rock vocalists were people like Kurt Cobain and Eddie Vedder, with low, ugly voices. Was there any place for an anti-rock-star, anti-society alt-rocker who could sing falsetto? Sure, he could sing lower just fine, but it would’ve been a waste if he hadn’t made use of his full vocal range. Thankfully, it was one of the elements brought into the expanded sonic palette of The Bends. There’s also more experimentation with genre. “Bones”, dare I say, has a bit of a bluesy touch to it. “Fake Plastic Trees” and “High and Dry” could be classified as singer/songwriter. On songs like “Nice Dream” and “My Iron Lung”, they take the loud/quiet dynamics popularized by the grunge movement outside of their original context to emphasize a sense of growing frustration. It’s also the first of their albums where the label of “art-rock” starts to truly make sense as a way to describe their sound. The Bends may not be Radiohead’s masterpiece in the same way OK Computer is, but it is their album that arguably best reaches the sweet spot between art, craft, and emotion. There’s a reason it’s continued to resonate through later generations—and not just because of the band’s uncanny ability to predict the future. The songs are accessible, timeless, raw, and well-written. Everything from the tilt of the dummy on the album cover to the falsetto on the chorus of “High and Dry” was destined to become ubiquitous. In other words, The Bends is Radiohead’s album that’s most accessible while also being extremely well-written. Sure, Amnesiac is a good album and all, but it’s an acquired taste. In contrast, anyone from the most pretentious critic to a ten year old can appreciate “High and Dry”. If you haven’t already, give this album a listen. Not only is it just fantastic, but Radiohead does societal critiques and political songs much better than most other bands. And even outside the lyrics, you can appreciate a lot of these songs for just being bangers.