Queen is at their best when they're at their most theatrical, and there are times here when they fully commit, but other times where they don't. Songs like Stone Cold Crazy, In The Lap of the Gods, and the first two tracks fulfill the genre label of "glam rock", sounding both epic and ridiculously fun. Other tracks feel a lot more dull, and like they could be made by any random 70s band. They don't go full hard rock, but they aren't particularly theatrical either, so they just don't emotionally register for me. Of course, the standout part of the album is Freddie Mercury, who more than proves why he's considered one of the greatest performers ever. The worst thing that a band like Queen can be is dull, and unfortunately on this album, they fall into that trap too many times.
The title track here is, hands down, one of the greatest country songs of all time, an absolute tearjerker of a ballad focusing on two of the genre's favorite subjects: God and poverty. I'm a sucker for songs about being happy despite difficult circumstances, and Coat of Many Colors definitely fits the bill. The rest of the songs don't quite match that song's quality, but it's still all very well done country pop. The midsection of the album can get a bit repetitive, with a stretch of songs with very similar structures and chord progressions, but Dolly is a talented enough singer and songwriter to make it work. The back half of the album starts showing off more variety, with the musicians embracing more diverse sounds without straying too far from the country pop mold. This is not the best country album, or even the best Dolly Parton album I've ever heard, but there's still a lot to like about it.
Absolutely gorgeous exploration of the intersection between folk, rock, and jazz. The arrangements here, for the most part, are stunning, subtly complex in a way that takes a truly close listen to fully appreciate. It feels like wandering along a peaceful river, not always knowing where it leads but still knowing that there's a clear path. There's a gentle playfulness that's present on a lot of Joni Mitchell albums, but is rarely as pronounced as it is here. Of course, Joni is an excellent lyricist, and while her writing doesn't explore the same depths as something like Blue, there's still plenty of insightful observations about life and love to be found here. Like the production, her songwriting style often feels unpredictable, sometime adhering to traditional pop structures only to veer unexpectedly in a new direction. This album is a bit frontloaded, with some of the jazzier tracks like Down to You or Twisted feeling a little clunky, but this is still an overall great experience.
One of the best psychedelic rock albums I've ever heard. Carlos Santana and his band really knew how to jam. I'm not familiar with the recording process of this album, but the arrangements are all so loose and adventurous that it gives the feeling that it's all been improvised. Everyone involved does an incredible job but Santana's guitar work is truly the star of the show, his playing is so emotive and driving with tons of memorable riffs. This is primarily a rock album but the flourishes of blues, jazz, and Latin music give it so much personality and color. This is primarily instrumental but the portions with vocals are excellent. The lyrics are nothing special but they don't need to be, as the vocals clearly aren't the primary focus and are more just a component of the greater ensemble. The two most famous singles, Black Magic Woman and Oye Como Va, are obviously both excellent, but the deep cuts hold their own quality-wise. So many albums from this era label themselves as "psychedelic" but very few truly live up to that descriptor like this one does. It truly does feel like an acid-tinged journey through space and time, and it's easily my favorite on the list so far.
Is it possible for something to be pleasant to a fault? If it is, this album is a perfect example. Paul Simon is a rock-solid songwriter, his harmonies with Art Garfunkel sound excellent, and the songs are all beautifully arranged, but the cutesiness can get to be a bit much sometimes. I like folk music a lot, and I'm not against music sounding sweet and cozy like this, but all the nature imagery and lullaby-esque melodies and glockenspiel parts on songs like Cloudy or 59th Street Bridge feel like eating too much ice cream and getting a stomachache. My favorite aspect of this album was the sound of recording, I loved the ramshackle feeling of it. It almost sounds cavernous at times, like you're listening to them in a massive, empty concert hall with amazing acoustics. This was solid but definitely not my favorite in this style. Also, credit where credit is due, the Bob Dylan parody was pretty funny.
I don't know what the consensus is among Queen fans, but I liked this a lot more than Sheer Heart Attack. They fully leaned into their theatricality on this one, and managed to back it up with some truly stunning, mystical arrangements. This feels much proggier than what they would do on later projects, and it makes for some of their most exciting songs. I didn't expect the heavy high-fantasy theme on this project, and while it sometimes veers into corniness, it mostly works perfectly with the glam-rock aesthetic they're going for. The first half is solid, but this album truly comes alive in the second, Freddie Mercury-penned half, where they fully commit to the fantasy themes in both the lyrics and the sound. The band really focuses on creating a continuous album experience on this, and the way the songs flow together is wonderful. The real crown jewel is the multi-phased epic the March of the Black Queen, which I highly recommend to those who love what they were doing on Bohemian Rhapsody. Highly evocative imagery, wild swings in mood and tempo that feel earned rather than jarring, and an excellent performance from Mercury.
Decently fun slice of throwback synthpop. The production on this was uniformly excellent, filled with so much detail and utterly pristine. There's a variety of moods being explored in the music, all of which sounded great, but the more dance oriented cuts stood out the most to me. Chris is an excellent, very theatrical performer, sometimes reminding me of Michael Jackson at his wildest. The real draw for me was the lyrics, focusing on themes of queer love and exploration of identity. The writing can feel a bit clunky in the English language version of the album, but given that English is his second language I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. I listened to both the English and French version, and while both are good, the French version is definitely better. His voice just sounds so much more natural in his native language. If there's one thing that holds this album back for me, it's how beholden to pastiche it is, but when the pastiche is this well done, it's hard to complain.
One of the most aggressively 60s albums I've ever heard: primarily a folk rock album, heavy on the psychedelia, with lyrics that split the difference between abstract surrealism and political content. Apparently this was one of the first psychedelic rock albums, and while I do think its approach is relatively simplistic compared to what would come after, I found it charming rather than dated. There's a colorfulness this album brings to the table that just makes it such a fun, easy listen. The obvious standout is Eight Miles High, which features a fantastic guitar solo from Roger McGuinn, but I also loved the lush folk instrumentation on tracks like Wild Mountain Thyme and the slightly dour tone of What's Happening. It surprised me how versatile this album was with its combinations of folk, rock, and country, but it was a welcome surprise.
The title track here is an absolute all timer, featuring an absolutely electric rhythm section and excellent interplay between the organ and the guitar. It's impossible to listen to it and not nod along. So much swagger and coolness contained in such a simple track. Everything else here ranges from "enjoyable enough" to "mostly forgettable". There isn't really a bad song on this album, but everything besides the iconic title track blends together into an easy listening mush. It's a shame because you can tell the players here are talented, and even in these other tracks there are occasional flashes of brilliance. But when everything relies on the same chords, similar structures, and similar BPMs, it's hard to feel like any of it is truly essential.
Beautifully done singer-songwriter music. Neil Young is an all-time great songwriter, and this album is littered with thoughtful and introspective takes on love and life. However, I can't talk about this album without talking about the music, an excellent mix of rock, country, and folk that's pure ear candy. The flourishes of harmonica and slide guitar give this record so much personality and color. You can tell a lot of time and effort was put into make it sound good, but it always retains a slight rough edge that prevents it from sounding too sanitized. There are some great jammy moments, particularly on the last track, where the band just lets loose and sounds like they're having a ton of fun. The one sore spot here are the orchestral moments, particularly A Man Needs a Maid. It just doesn't fit the emotions that the rest of the album is going for. Otherwise, really good stuff.
Now THIS is how you do blues. I've heard so much modern blues rock that has all the rough edges sanded off, and it's so refreshing to hear some that still has some tangible grit to it. The playing from everyone involved is excellent. It sticks very close to the standard blues formula of improvising around a consistent series of chords, but the improvising is so well done that it's hard to complain. The guitar and harmonica solos in particular are great, there's so much personality and feeling to match the technical ability. I was honestly shocked to find out that this isn't a live album. Muddy Waters himself is an excellent vocalist, bringing some incredibly passionate and soulful vocals to the table. I loved his self-depreciating, mildly raunchy sense of humor, it gave this album such a distinct personality. Highly recommend this to anyone who appreciates some hard-nosed rock and roll.
X's debut album, Los Angeles, is one of my all time favorite punk albums. This album was a slight letdown compared to that one, but it's still very good. They're known for blending punk's attitude and raw style with rockabilly arrangements, and here they lean more into the rockabilly side of their sound than on Los Angeles, which is unfortunately not my cup of tea. That being said, everything that makes this band great is still present on the more punk leaning tracks. Their lyrics and playing, while still raw and unrefined, are a bit more professionally done than other punk bands of their time. The key to X's appeal is the interplay between vocalists John Doe and Exene Cervenka, and their chemistry here is excellent. Like I said earlier, still good, but I think they've done better.
Feel very similarly about this one as I do the Booker T. album I listened to last week. Generally pleasant, with a lot of talent and raw musicianship on the way and a killer title track/lead single, but eventually blends into the background. This being a jazz album, there's a bit more going on musically, and the horn sections in particular are very good, but ultimately it does little to distinguish itself. The title track, as mentioned earlier, is great, and the vocalist in particular does an excellent job. Everything else here is good background music, but still just background music at the end of the day.
Big empty music. Attempts to sound grand and sweeping, but nothing about it ends up sticking. Everything is competently made but there's barely any standout lyrics, hooks, melodic ideas, instrumental passages. There were many instances where I assumed I was 5 minutes into a song's runtime, checked the progress, and discovered it was only 3 minutes long. It gets slightly better towards the end, I think Cornish Town, Reinstated, and Daniella are solid songs, but not enough to save the whole experience from being too boring to remember.
Bono and co. are going for a big, arena-ready sound here, and sometimes it works. The three singles that open the album are solid, and there are some great deep cuts, like the grungy Bullet the Blue Sky and the desert-tinged In God's Country, but a lot of the surrounding material doesn't live up to the grandness the band is attempting. A good portion of this album just sounds flat, and the ocassional flashes of brilliance that shine through just make those portions easy more dull in comparison. I appreciate the socio-political themes that Bono works into his lyrics, especially on the closer Mothers of the Disappeared, but lyrics without good music to back it up only get you so far.
There's a fair amount of 90s alternative rock I like, but a lot of it can feel like a slog to get through. Here, Garbage comes through with one of the most fun takes on the genre I've ever heard. They take the standard heavy guitars and snarling angst typical of the decade and make it dance-floor ready through fuzzy guitar feedback, delirious electronic effects, and driving drum beats. The drums in particular give this album a real sense of motion that makes it such a joy to listen to. I really appreciated the variety of moods that Garbage brings to the table, from the more angry tracks like As Heaven is Wide, to upbeat bangers like Stupid Girl, to lowkey, almost trip-hop adjacent cuts like Milk. Shirley Manson is an excellent vocalist, bringing a palpable simmering anger to the table that still retains the fun of the instrumentation. Her lyrics are very blunt, but that bluntness serves the tone of the album really well. This was one of the biggest surprises on this list so far, given I hadn't heard of this band before, but it won me over in a big way.
This album came so close to winning me over. I was very skeptical going into it, given the massive runtime, the child-like aesthetic of the cover, and my general dislike of Billy Corgan as a public figure. I ended up enjoying most of it, but there were some definite stumbling points. In particular, the parts where the band strays away from their grunge roots were very hit or miss, and it felt like Corgan's nasally vocals didn't match with the softer moments. Plus, while there weren't any songs that I felt were particularly bad, the two-hour runtime didn't feel justified. That being said, it was hard to deny the sheer ambition of the album and Corgan's complete sincerity with how he handles every aspect of the album. His lyrics can come across as overly melodramatic or pretentious at times, but he delivers it with such conviction and without any irony that it didn't bother me. The heavier moments on this album were when the band really shined, especially the guitar parts and how Corgan's vocals meshed with the instrumentals. This is an album I can certainly see growing on me in the future with repeated listens, especially since my primary issues are fairly surface level, but right now those issues still bother me.
I've heard a lot of praise for Alanis Morissette as a songwriter, but I didn't really understand it until I sat down and paid attention to this album. She isn't exactly subtle, and there are a few clunky moments (e.g. the infamous ten thousand spoons line), but she more than makes up for it with her raw anger and sharp sense of humor. This is primarily a breakup album, but she deals with a lot of other topics, such as Catholic guilt on Forgiven, parental expectations on Perfect, and depression on Mary Jane, and she makes all these very familiar topics feel fresh and new with how much passion she puts into the performance and the writing. I liked the combination of grungy guitars and trip-hop electronic drums that comprise the bulk of this album, it reminds me of a more restrained version of the Garbage album I recently listened to. This isn't the most revolutionary album on the planet, but it's such a well constructed and charming piece of pop rock that it ended up winning me over.
This was an extremely frustrating album to listen to. When Peter Gabriel locks in and writes a truly great pop rock song, it works wonders, like on Solsbury Hill, Slowburn, and Modern Love. Other times, it feels like he's just throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks. Moribund the Burgermeister is completely incoherent, Excuse Me feels like a worse version of the Beatles' more wacky songs, and tracks like Waiting for the Big One and Here Comes the Flood drag on for way longer than they should. This album is a mess on a wider structural level too, as there's no sense of progression or consistency. I respect Gabriel for wanting to try his hand at a wide variety of different style, but the execution didn't match the ambition.
This was a great album, but one I don't have very much to say about. The appeal of it is fairly simple: it's just a rock-solid collection of bluesy hard rock. The band achieves a nice mix of ballads and bangers, and the tracklist is structured to ensure that the album doesn't get stuck in one mode for too long. The lyrics aren't mindblowing, but there's some solid storytelling and some excellent hooks. Of course, the crown jewel of the album is Free Bird, a 9 minute Southern rock epic with some outstanding guitar work. It's an all-time great closing track, and the fact that they save it for the end is proof of this album's incredibly tight sequencing. Part of me wishes that the production had a bit more grit to it, but that's a very minor complaint for what's otherwise a very catchy and fun rock album.
Ever since I've been involved in music nerd spaces, I've been hearing that Eric Clapton is some sort of guitar god. After hearing this, I honestly don't see it. He's certainly talented, and there are a few standout moments, like the arpeggios on Dance the Night Away and the hypnotic wah-wahs on Tales of Brave Ulysses, but for the most part it sounded like enjoyable but fairly standard blues guitar to me. I was honestly more impressed with the drumming. "Enjoyable but fairly standard" is a good way to describe the album as a whole. It doesn't hit as hard as other blues rock I've heard, but it doesn't achieve the same lush atmosphere as other psych rock I've heard. Some of the slower cuts, like Blue Condition or We're Going Wrong, failed to make any impression on me whatsoever. I enjoyed the lyrics for the most part, which leaned into surrealism while still maintaining some grounding in the loneliness of blues. This is solid, but compared to other 60s blues-psych like Jimi Hendrix, I'd hardly call it essential.
For an album in a genre that's frequently accused of being repetitive, there's a fair amount of variety in the instrumentation. It's all anchored around the standard reggae beat, of course, but everything surrounding that anchor point sounds distinct on each song. For example, the blissful guitars and harmonica solos on Talking Blues, or the gentle horn sections on So Jah S'eh, or the organs on No Woman No Cry. There's a clear formula at play, but the formula works, creating an inviting and laid-back, but deceptively layered atmosphere. As a vocalist, Bob Marley has an easygoing charisma that instantly pulls you into this atmosphere. He has two primary focuses as a songwriter: sensual love ballads and pointed political commentary, both of which he pulls off with straightforward and thoughtful lyricism. This album works well as background music, but rewards active listening too, which is a balance less talented artists struggle to achieve in the way that Marley and his band did.
A common complaint I've heard about this album is that, if you're familiar with the electronic music that inspired it, it doesn't sound all that special. I think this criticism misses the point. This album may not be as game-changing as many critics once claimed it to be, but it's a perfect synthesis of moody art rock and otherworldly electronics that creates a distinctly alienating and disorienting atmosphere. I do generally prefer the more rock-leaning cuts, but every song here is so good that the distinction is barely worth mentioning. Thom Yorke is infamously not a technically gifted singer but his strained, distant vocals match the atmosphere perfectly, and the vocal effects give the impression that he's singing to you from an alternate dimension. His writing is impressionistic and relies on simplistic, repeated phrases, which can seem shallow at first but provide a clear emotional impact upon repeated listens. The themes of loneliness and isolation can seem vague on paper, but come across beautifully when combined with the music. Personally, this is my favorite album that I've listened to for this list so far, the perfect balance between atmosphere and songwriting, and a classic for a reason.
This is a difficult album to talk about, because while it's clearly very good, it did nothing for me on an emotional level. This a very symphonic, theatrical take on pop, with immaculate orchestral arrangements and dramatic vocals. Neil Hannon is a great frontman, both technically gifted and emotionally expressive. His lyrics, while sometimes cheesy, do a great job of capturing a romantic, lovelorn energy. He brings to mind a protagonist in a romantic Broadway musical, over-the-top and passionate and absolutely commanding everyone's attention. Unfortunately, nothing about this really appeals to me. It all feels a little too tasteful and methodically composed for my preferences. I like a little more mess in my music than what The Divine Comedy provides here. I can see why someone would love this, but it's just not for me.
Arcade Fire is clearly aiming for a Springsteen-esque arena rock sound here, but something about it feels weirdly underpowered. The production feels like it doesn't have any bite to it, and as a consequence all the grandiosity falls flat. There are some decent instrumental ideas but none of them really clicked for me. All the songs feel like they're pulling off a very similar trick where they culminate in grand instrumental swells, and it makes what's supposed to be a varied instrumental pallette feel very repetitive. Win Butler admittedly brings some sharp commentary about the alienation of late-stage capitalism to the table, but it didn't make up for how boring this album was. There were some strong tracks near the end, particularly My Body Is a Cage and (Antichrist Television Blues), but it wasn't enough to save this album for me. As someone who's a sucker for overblown sentimental indie rock, this was a big letdown.
Unquestionably one of the greatest soul albums of all time. The instrumental are gorgeous, combining strings, horns, and gentle percussion to create a warm and inviting atmosphere. Something this gentle sounding could easily become boring, but the layers of different instruments give this album so much texture and character that it becomes an extremely immersive experience. This warm atmosphere provides the perfect compliment to Gaye's politically charged lyrics. He addresses a lot of very fraught topics, from war to environmentalism to religion, but the gentle instrumentation and his buttery smooth vocals make everything he's saying strangely comforting. It's like he's telling you that, in spite of all the issues, everything is going to be alright. His lyrics rely on observations more than complex analysis, making it sound more like a friend venting his frustrations with you rather than a lecture. He takes on a very everyman role, making it even more approachable on top of the smooth sound. What's Going On, above all else, feels like a reminder that you're not alone in this world, and other people are going through the same problems that you are.
This type of corny, overwrought 70s balladry typically isn't my thing, but I ended up being won over by just how ridiculous and theatrical it was. The story is absurdly theatrical, being about a boy who gets into a motorcycle accident and tries to come back to life to get back with his crush. Meat Loaf matches this concept with ridiculously theatrical vocals. On every track he completely commits every emotion he's trying to get across, especially his passionate caterwauling on the ballads. Despite its goofiness, the music is technically very impressive, with Jim Steinman's compositions calling for extremely complex and bombastic performances from all the musicians involved. The guitar work from Todd Rundgren is especially well done, with some great solos peppered throughout the tracklist. This isn't the kind of thing I can see myself returning to frequently, but I can't help but admire how much everyone involved committed to something so over the top.
This doesn't have the same psychedelic atmosphere as the last Byrds album I listened to, but the more straightforward folk-rock approach here has its own distinct charm. I loved the sunny, jangly tone of the infamous 12-string guitar of this album, and I can see how that guitar would become influential to future strains of indie rock. A lot of this feels like very obvious worship of Bob Dylan and the Beatles, especially with the 4 different Dylan covers, but the musicianship is so tight that the heavy influence doesn't bother me. In the case of the Dylan covers, the aforementioned 12-string give them a unique character that makes them feel distinct from Dylan's versions. The original songs are great too, with the band showing their knack for a good pop hook at an early stage in their career. It's just a fun little album that does a great job of demonstrating what made 60s folk such a compelling scene.
As someone who's not particularly into synthpop, this blew me away. The synths on this album have such a uniquely gloomy character, and I loved how that contrasted with the upbeat compositions. Almost all of the tracks have this propulsive momentum that's absolutely infectious, with the exception of the beautifully haunting Elegia, which acted as a great intermission from the high energy of the rest of the album. I also liked the slightly roughshod nature of the production, it was a welcome departure from the more polished synthpop that I typically don't enjoy as much. For something so distinctly 80s, it still feels so fresh and exciting. Great stuff.
It's hard for me to see how anyone could dislike this album. The Isley Brothers' brand of super smooth, funky, sunshiney soul music is ridiculously likeable and fun, and it always manages to put me in a good mood. There's a lot of strong musicianship at play here, with some especially great guitar and bass parts. The fuzzed out guitar solos in particular bring a slight edge to the otherwise smooth textures. Ronald Isley is an incredible singer, bringing a lot of charisma to the table whether he's performing an uptempo funk banger or a sensual ballad. You've probably heard soul in this vein plenty of times, but it's very rarely been executed this well.
This album makes me sad that I'll never get to see Johnny Cash live. This is one of the recordings from his legendary tour of prison shows, and while this isn't quite as legendary as his Folsom Prison album, it's just about as good. The recording does an excellent job of capturing Cash's incredible command of the audience. His between-song banter showcases his distinctly off-the-cuff sense of humor, and the raucous cheers from the crowd during San Quentin, a song detailing how terrible prison is, demonstrates his instinct for knowing what songs will appeal to what audience. The setlist is a perfect mix of some of his most famous songs and covers of artists of a similar stripe. Him and his band maintain a sense of infectious fun thanks to the live setting, but their musicianship and the recording quality make it sound just as good as a studio recording. That mix of professionalism and looseness perfectly capture what made Cash such a compelling artist, and make this the gold standard of live albums.
This was a lot more interesting musically and lyrically than the previous Simon & Garfunkel album I heard. On this album, their straightforward folk pop songwriting is a lot sharper, and there are some intriguing experimental portions that diversify their sound without distracting from it. Songs like America and Mrs. Robinson showcase Simon's ability to write thoughtful, socially conscious lyrics interspersed with details that give it a personal touch. Admittedly, they still display certain qualities that don't fully work for me, like the somewhat saccharine tone on tracks like Punky's Dilemma and At the Zoo, but overall this is a marked improvement over Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.
It's a bit surprising to me that this album is considered punk, because so much of it feels so bland. You can see some of the punk inspiration in the song structures, melodies, and lyricism, but the production is so flat and sterile that it ends up sucking the energy out of the music. Beyond that, a fair number of these songs feel a bit too predictable and low-energy for rock music of this era, and the mixing is noticeably uneven, with Paul Weller's vocals being buried beneath the bass and drums. It's a shame, because there are some flashes of brilliance here. The stretch of songs of the middle, in particular Set the House Ablaze and Start, manage to overcome the sterile production thanks to their raw energy, and Weller's talent for sticky hooks and trenchant observations make That's Entertainment a must-listen. Plus, in spite of how much they overwhelm the mix, there are some truly great basslines on this album. Unfortunately, these high points only further highly how dull a significant portion of Sound Affects is.
If you haven't listened to this album on a good pair of headphones, you're missing out. Wilco takes the basic building blocks of folk rock and adds so many wonderful details and textures that elevate it to an entirely different place. Everything from unusual percussion patters, to squelching electronic effects, to layers of distorted feedback, to subtle string arrangements give this album its unique character. The songwriting at the core is fairly straightforward, and a weaker band could use these unique textures as a distraction from this simplicity, but Wilco strikes a perfect balance between these two elements of their sound. Jeff Tweedy's lyrics focus on the isolation and confusion brought on by 21st century life, and the unusual instrumentation is the perfect compliment to these themes. This is the perfect example of how tweaking a familiar formula can create something transcendent.
I haven't really been impressed with much Foo Fighters music in the past, but I ended up liking this a lot. This was their first album after Kurt Cobain's death, when the band was more of a Dave Grohl solo vehicle than an actual band, and there's an element of him tinkering with the sound to see what works for him that makes this a very charming listen. This retains the heaviness of the grunge sound, but adds some shoegazy reverb and more poppy melodic structures in a way that feels very predictive of the direction rock would be headed in the 2000s. Grohl isn't the greatest songwriter ever, but he knows his way around a good hook and has a lot of charisma, and the dense and slightly lo-fi production manages to pick up the rest of the slack. He does a fairly good job playing most of the instruments, but of course the drums stick out the most, providing the necessary aggression to keep the energy up across the runtime.
The production on this album is on another level. The Bomb Squad pulls out all the stops here, overwhelming you with pounding drums, discordant samples, and seemingly random sound effects for a complete assault on the senses. It's almost hard to believe something this abrasive got as popular as it was. You can really see how this would go on to influence so much experimental hip-hop to come. Chuck D is a pure force of nature, splitting the difference between righteous political commentary and pure shit-talking with his authoritative voice and surprisingly nimble flow, and the assists from Flava Flav keep things fun. Like the production, the political commentary pulls no punches, directly confronting politicians, Hollywood, the records industry, and every other major force in white America. If there's one issue with this album, it's that it can start to feel one note with its hour-long run time, but that note is a powerful one.
One of those times where a mostly pretty good album gets overshadowed by one incredible track. In this case, it's Bitter Sweet Symphony, an all-time great Britpop ballad that manages to feel epic in scope without devolving into corniness. The rest of the album is a mix of soft-rock sentimentality and swirling psychedelia, heavy on atmosphere and light on compositional variety. This approach mostly works for the band, with their talented playing and dense layers of instrumentation allowing the listener to easily sink into the sound. Sometimes, though, the lack of variety get a little too noticeable, especially as the longer songs tend to trail off in a way that loses my attention. There are some other smatterings of greatness sprinkled throughout the tracklist, particularly The Drugs Don't Work and Neon Wilderness, but that opening track is still the clear standout.
Regardless of whether you like the sound of this album, it's hard to think of anything that sounds quite like it. M.I.A. and her collaborators take grooves and patterns from around the world, particularly South Asia, and combine them with contemporary EDM and hip-hop sounds for something that splits the difference between danceable and abrasive. Rather than try to mush these styles together, they embrace how much they clash, a strategy that is sometimes annoying but frequently brilliant. While songs like 20 Dollar and the turn don't quite click for me, songs like BirdFlu, XR2, and the legendary Paper Planes brim with so much color and vigor that it's hard not to be impressed. As a rapper, M.I.A. focuses less on technical ability and more on complimenting the instrumentals. Her raw energy and stunning command of hooks more than make up for somewhat limited rapping skills. This is an incredibly unique and audacious album that always goes for big swings, even if they don't end up connecting.
Taking progressive rock style compositions and applying them to the sunshiney pop-rock sounds of the 70s is such a good idea that I don't know why more bands didn't try it. What Supertramp really excels at on this album is combining both of these elements is that neither of them feel watered down by the presence of the other. The band does an excellent job at building and releasing tension and managing tempo and volume, in the way all the prog greats do. The fact that they do it with bright, upbeat piano and horns lines and incredibly sticky hooks makes it all the more impressive. The cherry on top is the vocal performance from frontman Rick Davies, who goes from gentle crooning to passionate, growling wails on the turn of a dime. It's a bit of a cliched statement, but he truly knew how to use his voice as an instrument. Above all else, I appreciate how this band manages to straddle both technical mastery and a sense of playfulness, something that a lot of prog rock bands struggle with and can make their music seem too academic at times. Every song here has its own unique progression and character, and I was never bored listening to it.
You can feel the band pulling apart while listening to this album. The three songwriters of the group clearly each had different directions they wanted to go in: Christine McVie's songs are more conventional soft rock, the kind they had been known for up to that point, while Stevie Nicks took a more ethereal and dreamy approach, and Lindsey Buckingham was pulled more towards post-punk. I typically like this sprawling, messy approach to album construction, but unfortunately the song quality is as inconsistent as the sound. Buckingham's tracks in particular are very hit-or-miss, and a fair portion of them lack the punch that makes the best post-punk work for me. Nicks is far and away the strongest on Tusk, with tracks like Sara, Beautiful Child, and Sisters of the Moon being personal standouts. McVie's contributions are solid, but feel somewhat boring compared to the other two. I appreciate the experimental approach they took here, but I ended up respecting it more than I actually liked it.
I enjoyed most everything The Cars did on this album, but none of it really blew me away. Every song here is a very well crafted pop song, and they were all very fun to listen, but none of them really grabbed me beyond that. The production is the best part, with the crisp, clear tones of the music. adding a lot of color and flavor. I also liked the dramatic vocals from Ric Ocasek, and the uniformly great guitar and synth work. I'm not quite sure what it is that prevents me from fully loving this, but I think there just wasn't much that grabbed me emotionally. Really enjoyable overall, but I doubt it will ever be an all time favorite for me.
I love Springsteen as much as the next person, but this was a tough listen. This was written and recorded in response to 9/11, and while I don't doubt his sincere horror to the events of that day, this album falls too quickly into the same corny sentimentality that a lot of post-9/11 music did. Springsteen is no stranger to sentimentality, of course, but it's typically paired with better songwriting. The stories he writes here are a lot lighter on the specifics compared to his best work, making the emotional aspect feel much cheaper and unearned. There are exceptions, like the hauntingly dark Nothing Man and the vivid imagery on My City of Ruins, but these are few and far between. The E-Street Band is doing their best music-wise, but they're kneecapped by overly slick production and generic arrangements. The worst part is that this album is over an hour long, making this a complete slog to sit through. I didn't have high expectations for post-80s Bruce, but this failed to live up to even those lowered standards.
Reading the backstory for this album before listening really piqued my curiosity: a Serbian musician living in Brazil, attempting to combine the local samba and bossa nova sounds with contemporary downtempo and electronic instrumentation. I would say this album mostly lives up to my initial intrigue. The combination of these sounds creates a simultaneously warm and nocturnal atmosphere, like wandering through a busy city on a muggy summer night. If this album was all atmosphere, though, it wouldn't stick with me like it did, and Suba displays a genuine talent for songcraft throughout the tracklist. There's some truly ingenious instrumental work at play here, particularly the enveloping bass and the combination of digital and analog percussion. Each song, while mining a similar energy and tone, had a distinct progression and instrumental palette, ensuring that the album didn't remain too monotonous. It's sad that, shortly after this album's released, Suba passed away, because Sao Paulo Confessions feels like it could have been the start of a very special music career.
You're Living All Over Me basically has everything I want out of an indie rock record. Great riffs, sticky melodies, unorthodox songwriting, a unique vocalist, and heavy layers of distortion and feedback. This isn't just indie in aesthetic, but in attitude. The lo-fi recording style gives the album an organic and ramshackle feeling, making up for a lack of polish with an exciting DIY atmosphere. J Mascis' vocals are snotty and yelpy, feeling very predictive of how grunge vocalists would sound in the 90s. All these elements could make this an excessively abrasive listen, which it is to a degree, but the band's strong melodic senses help you stay invested. Take away the noise and the lo-fi production and it's almost a pop album. That juxtaposition is the secret sauce that makes this album truly special. This has long been a personal favorite for me, and every listen makes it even better.
