Album Reviews

Only two songs I liked from this, "Patiently Waiting", which just has Emenem's fingerprints all over it, and most notably "Gotta Make it to Heaven" which is the one time it feels like he's thinking of the consequences of the lifestyle rather than glorify it. The rest of the album is pure torture. Most notably the final three "Bonus Tracks" which were on the original release so I included them. They were gawdawful! I feel like I have been strapped to Count Rugen's Machine and just had 70 minutes sucked from my life (4.2) ★★

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Got a great rhythm that I enjoyed more than I was expecting. That being said, I didn't understand a word, which detracted immensely.

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“El muro de U2 cae como glitch” Dios juega a los dados con vaso prestado, de la misma forma que Bono juega a presentarse como un mesías, pero como la ambigüedad de “One”, a veces termina cayendo como Judas. Esto no es Joshua Tree, esto es Achtung Baby. El muro de Berlín cae y la banda que se sostenía como los salvadores del rock serio hubiesen deseado que les hicieran un “Good Bye Lenin” para no tener que pasar por la misma transformación que paso Europa. U2 llega a Berlín en el mismo estado de ruinas cuando Occidente ya estaba en la euforia de la reunificación. El Hansa Studios ya había podido con las voces de Bowie en Heroes, sobrevivió a los chuchos de frío de Iggy Pop y si se hacía silencio todavía se escuchaban los sintes de Depeche Mode. Los noventas no querían héroes, querían contradicciones. Por eso a la muchachada se le suman Brian Eno y Daniel Lanois para producir el vía crucis autogestionado de Bono. El mesías tenía que caer para recauchutarlo con chicles usados. La caja de Toplines tenía sabores a The Stone Roses, Happy Mondays y a My Bloody Valentine para cambiar el sabor de las típicas guitarras abiertas de Joshua Tree por capas de guitarras procesadas, distorsiones industriales, loops y texturas. El disco se siente como la misma Berlin pasando por un momento íntimo pero enorme. El 7°álbum de U2 hace que el muro se caiga como glitch. Los chicles también sirvieron para entretenerles la boca a la muchachada que no paraba de pegarse en las sesiones de estudio. En medio del choque y la desorientación más cerca de la separación que la salvación aparece el riff de lo que será “One”. Una balada tan comodín que sirvió tanto para campañas contra el VIH como para funerales, matrimonios, bar mitzvahs y reconciliaciones políticas. En “Even Better Than the Real Thing” empieza el regusto del consumo capitalista preguntando si la copia podía resultar mejor que la original. Walter Benjamin ya había teorizado sobre la originalidad y la copia trayendo el concepto de aura. La banda que no venía con la biblio obligatoria al día se basaron en la fe de las escrituras para componer Until The End of the World y The Fly. Una es una conversación entre Jesús y Judas pero donde Jesús por estar con un chicle en la boca deja que el traidor hable. La otra es Bono crucificando a él mismo y resurgiendo como un rockstar exagerado, vestido con una camperita de cuero y unos oportunisimos para la trama lentes de sol. No había tal consenso social como para considerarlo mesías por eso el solito es el organizador y community manager de su propio vía crucis. La herida invisible y el alto costo de reunificación nos dejó la expansión y el contraste por un lado de “Mysterious Ways” con groove, funk, rock y dance y el nuevo sonido se consolida como el capitalismo pero con dependencia emocional porque sigue “Ultraviolet”. “Acrobat” y “Love is Blindness” es un chicle estirándose; oscuridad, tensión hasta que se desgarra tanto que dudas si sigue siendo U2 o de que sabor era esto. Los “uh, ¿me das uno?” que los dejaron sin chicles fueron Radiohead en el periodo de OK computer y Kid A, Coldplay, The killers, a los niños de Muse, Arcade Fire y Kings of Leon se les recomendó no tragárselo ni dormir con el chicle puesto, porque se pega en el pelo, que era la recomendación de la época para quienes incorporan música industrial y dance al rock de estadios. El álbum termina con el solo más intenso de The Edge y derrumbando el mito de que si te tragas un chicle te crece un árbol de caucho en el estómago. No hay tal fin en la historia sino más bien la crisis cíclicas de especulación; ¿me están ofreciendo un chicle por amabilidad o por mal aliento?¿El rock necesita mesías o mártires?¿Qué la sobreproducción de U2 esté en un paraíso fiscal significa que es la tierra prometida? Achtung Baby! No aceptes chicles de extraños. no confundas menta con mentol and good luck for U2!

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It's fine. Unexciting for the most part but still had a few fun songs (Cold War and Tightrope are decent) 5.9/10

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Yesterday I went into the Cantina at the new Star Wars land at Disneyland and the bartender leans over, sneakily gives me this, and whispers, “It’s not often we get a Resistance General in here. Thank you for your service.” I almost cried.

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Oh fuck yeah. Oh hell yeah. As much as I love the Beastie Boys, I don't believe them when they say they were making fun of "frat boys and party bros" when they performed "Fight For Your Right." It's not like they grew up right away on Paul's Boutique...there's still a lot of hilarious shit and braggadocio on that album, too...they just had an ear for immaculate sounds and producing by the Dust Brothers. I don't think they really grew up and out of the immature phase until Check Your Head. But it sounds good for them to distance themselves from Fight For Your Right and Girls as quickly as they possibly could. This album is awesome...always has been, always will be. I keep seeing mentions about how it hasn't aged well, etc...but whatever, fuck that. This past weekend, I read an article on the DMV rap scene that was on Pitchfork...because I'm from the area, I was curious. And then I listened to some of the music from that article. All that shit makes Licensed To Ill look like nursery rhymes. The production here is immaculate. The bass is awesome. Sonically, it's a masterpiece. What a great album. Fun, hilarious, quotable...just great.

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Don't believe these liars.

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Quintessential slop

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Once upon a time, there was a beast named Muhammad Who legalized rape, polygamy, pedophilia, and shamelessness The beast Muhammad wrote the Quran, the Muslims' book of hate A manual of terror, wrath, and pedophilia First-degree murderers, terrorists in a world like no other

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"California Dreamin'" is the highlight here. That opening acoustic guitar is immaculate. For me it is in the pantheon of songs of the Mythological California of which there are many. California loomed large in the psyche of 20th century America and beyond. I love the song. The remainder of the album is quite pleasant in its own right. Right in the wheel house of that 1960s folk rock sound. These tracks are full of harmonies and the right blend of pop sensibilities. Mama Cass and Mama Michelle outshine the guys for sure, in my opinion. In the end though it does all come together for a light 35 minutes. Just stay here though, stay with the music here on this album. There is tragedy on the horizon for this band. Their run was short but sweet. Don't go reading on how the story ends. The music is pleasant enough. Let's let the music be enough. Just keep dreaming of California. We'll get there one day. Promise. 3/5

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I remember this one being a HUGE album until it wasn't. I remember the song (and that Prince wrote it), and I remember the tearing of the picture and the backlash afterward, but I'd honestly never had an opportunity to hear the rest of the album, and was a little flummoxed when it came up on this list. And when I listened to it, I was a whole other kind of surprised. This is a good album. Maybe not a damn good album or a wonderful album, but much different and more interesting than I'd expected. Way more Tori Amos/Fiona Apple/Bjork adjacent and less Dolores O'Riordan than anticipated (and I am at least a casual fan of all of the above). It may not be a blind 5, but it does round up to a 4/5, and intrigued me enough to search out some of her later work to see where she went creatively after her public ostricism.

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To quote Willie Nelson "There are two kinds of men; those who are in love with Emmylou Harris, and those who haven't met her." I only know Emmylou Harris through her records, but that's enough to be madly infatuated. Emmylou Harris has built an incredible body of work as a harmony singer, collaborator and interpreter of songs. But this is one of her rare albums of original songs. Spaciously recorded by Malcolm Burn using a crack band and a host of A-list guests with that atmospheric Lanois-style production, it is spooky and spacious and hard to pigeonhole exactly. It's not the classic country-folk sound of most of her output, but it's classy and sophisticated. But there is no mistaking that Emmylou is the star of the show here. I would listen to her sing the phone book, but this is even better.

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to the guy who said "Me and my girlfriend did interesting things in the back of my car to this" it's MY GIRLFRIEND AND I dumbass

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Nina Persson’s cool, almost innocent delivery, the bright melodies, the elegant arrangements, the polished pop shape. Underneath that, a lot of these songs are sour, passive-aggressive, wounded, or emotionally evasive. That contrast is the whole trick. The album sounds sweet without actually being naive.

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I remember having the James Bond song in my sex playlist when I was 20 and now I look back confused at this jarring decision but luckily no one ever had to endure it .

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It’s telling that this album appealed to a younger self. But as an adult, the "edgelord" posturing is hard to look past and made this a real struggle. The album leans heavily into an "only joking (or am I?!)" defence to mask its more offensive instincts, obviously exaggerated for shock value. But this isn't the problem - it's the emotional void. The record constantly pivots between a whining, "poor me" narrative about a difficult childhood and the pressures of fame, while simultaneously offering zero empathy to anyone else. It's the emotional depth of an angsty teenager acting out. In hindsight, he seems to lack any self-awareness when he complains about parents worrying he’s a bad influence. Does he ever stop to ask why his material appeals so heavily to children in the first place? (Note: On a relisten, he does actually state that it's for middle schoolers multiple times. But whether he's joking or serious, it's still true.) It feels too "try-hard" and self-absorbed, and it honestly left me with second-hand embarrassment. I'm sure at the time it was outrageous and fun, but by today's standards, it sounds like stuff an incel would say for attention. It's all just too juvenile. The track "Stan" deserves a call-out for its innovative concept and exploration of parasocial relationships, but the nuance and insight there seem almost accidental compared to the rest of the record. That is the real shame. I think there are interesting ideas that could have been explored well if there were less cringey acting out and a bit more maturity. "Stan" proves he is capable of more, which makes the rest of the album feel even more disappointing and performative. Beyond that, while the production is solid and he possesses a distinct style which he's perfected, it’s telling that the standout track was one he wasn't really on. A lot of the featured artists offered a well needed break. In the end I'd rather just listen to Del Tha Funkee Homosapien and enjoy life. 2/5

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(2/5) Thanks. I don't get it, but it was fine as a cultural artifact. The album was an interesting listen. It wasn't aurally offensive, but it didn't ignite anything either. It all kinda felt the same from track to track, but that could be my lack of understanding and I'm not afraid to admit that. I wouldn't mind some more (not a *lot* more) of this in the list. World music is a blind spot for me and I actually expected more of it. Instead, it's endless amounts of electronic/Britpop bullshit. This is -- by my count -- the second truly "World" music album and is likely just a 'check box' (i.e. quota) addition. We're only a hundred or so albums in.. that's 2%.

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Boy, there's a struggle in my head on this one.. Clapton and Baker absolutely slay the guitar and drums, respectively, but damned if I can't stand Bruce as the singer. "Strange Brew" and "Sunshine.." of course are great, but all the other songs aren't great mainly because of Bruce. I'm taking a knee on this one out of respect with to Clapton and Baker and just give it the average treatment. (3/5)

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I can’t believe the top review for this record (as of Dec 2023) is from someone trying to use their PhD in Mathematics as justification for not liking hip-hop. Weak.

Oh fuck yeah, now we're talking. Wait no, I swear I'm not being pretentious. This is the lowest rated album on this site because I guess mostly people aren't very fond of German people smashing metal plates together - who would have guessed. But halle-fucking-lujah, this is something this list needs more of. Albums that make you go "well, that was an experience and now I'm a changed man". Nobody is lying on their deathbed wishing they heard more crappy 80s post-punk or late 60s psychedelic rock. THIS is what we all deserve to be listening to as we embrace eternal oblivion. I'm giving this a high rating not only because I genuinely really love it, but also to help Kid Rock move to his rightful place as the actual worst album on this list. Together we can make a difference. Save the turtles.

Brings back vivid memories of when me and my mate Ray went on a trip to Dresden. We met this rotund goth in a bar, head to toe with tattoos and piercings, real filth and after a while took her into the disabled bogs for a spit roast. We were both pumping away in her with Napalm Death on in the background and her wailing "MEIN GOTT" at the top of her lungs. I remember spaffing all over her back just as Siege of Power kicked in. As i shoot over her, she takes Ray's cock out of her gob and says "do you want fries with that?" in a faux American accent. Anyway, we go outside and there's this gammy little geezer in a wheelchair sitting there furious, giving me daggers, because he's had to wait so long, so I lean into him and I go "I hope you have as much fun in there as we just did you little cunt".

Back when I was in college, there was this dude who would come into the bar I worked at on a Friday night and play fucking 10 Neil Young songs in a row. He would also hit on girls by doing magic tricks. I remember how angry I got every time he made me listen to an hour of Neil Young because I was just trying to have a good time, and he fucking made me listen to this sad, soppy fuck who writes nothing but songs that sound indistinguishable from each other and never seemed to enjoy a happy moment in his entire like. Fuck that guy, and fuck Neil Young. 2/5

Back when I was in college I used to go to a bar and listen to Neil tunes and do magic tricks for women. There was a bartender there, he was the best. I loved that guy. Some of the best years of my life.

Shit like this on the list is both refreshing and infuriating. Refreshing because it is good, fun, interesting, and also not something I would regularly be exposed to! It's why I started this project and keeps me coming back. It's infuriating because the fact that it is included here means that Robert Dimery, the original author of the 1001 albums list is aware that music like this exists. He's clearly aware that there is an entire world of music out there. SO WHY HAVE I LISTENED TO 200 80s BRITISH NEW WAVE ALBUMS AND 200 SCOTTISH ROCK ALBUMS FROM THE 90S??!!?

I really don't get rap, and I am completely aware of why. I'm a STEM guy, specifically a Ph.D. student in mathematics. Although my verbal intelligence is quite high, it's still about a standard deviation below my quantitative intelligence. Therefore, it should not be too surprising that I prefer melodies to lyricism, and that a genre based on the latter doesn't wow me. I know I'm pretty far out of step with public opinion on this one, but that can easily be attributed to the fact that hipsters with humanities degrees (i.e. extremely verbal-dominant people) are considered the ultimate arbiters of taste for some reason. (Side note: this also explains why prog rock is seen as being for losers.) Best song: Be (Intro), which had a decent instrumental part at the beginning. Everything else just sort of ran together.

Rap isn't my preferred genre of music. But I'm a shitty mathematician so I enjoyed this.

Rage In Favor Of The Machine.

Music for incels to wank furiously by

Sorry Boomers/Gen X, I was like 20 when this came out so it's one of the best things to ever happen to me. Sorry it's not King Crimson or whatever.

i ain’t listening to all that i’m happy for u tho or sorry that happened

The only enjoyment I got from this was reading the review about the brothers in Dresden and their lovely and talented tattooed friend.

The beauty of music is that it is subjective. It’s typically great for a certain group of people, though it’s never right for everyone. Some for the masses, some more niche, but it all has its place. Meanwhile, with lists like this, there’s always artists or records that anyone would have put on in place of what actually made it. Personally, I would have included Queensryche’s Operation Mindcrime, Live’s Throwing Copper, Joe Satriani’s The Extremist, Sara Bareilles’ Little Voice, or John Mellencamp’s Scarecrow album on a list of must hear records. Others would put totally different albums on and that's awesome. What someone likes vs. dislikes is truly subjective. Again, that's the beauty. With that said, this album objectively sucks. I mean truly horrible. Something had to be the lowest rated album on the list, and this was a place well earned. There is nothing redeemable about this record. To quote my wife, “they should have stopped at 1,000.”

I am definitely not the target demographic for this album, but I still thought it was very good. There's a lot of skill and artistry put into these tracks, so much so that it is almost invisible. 4 stars for me, plus an extra star just to spite the mathematics PHD guy.