Reviews by abrisskull

After being thoroughly impressed with Live Through This, I had an inkling of the sonic direction Hole went with next, considering I've heard the title track and "Malibu" in my crossings. After starting as a noisy punk rock outfit, the band switched to power pop with their follow-up, aiming to deconstruct the California sound. They also brought in more outside personnel for instrumental contributions, most notably Courtney Love's ex and Smashing Pumpkins' frontman/songwriter, Billy Corgan. As a result, Celebrity Skin is the kind of record that sounds awesome, even if it doesn't quite live up to the quality of its predecessor.

I might as well get my nitpicks out of the way. The album's production sounds thoroughly polished, such that any semblance of aggressive noise rock tendencies from Hole's first two records has been removed. To be fair, I think Michael Beinhorn was a solid choice for producer this time around, given his pedigree on albums like Soundgarden's Superunknown. I also believe that Courtney Love came into these sessions with the full intention of subverting a more mainstream style while still retaining memorable hooks and the cynical lyricism of previous efforts, and that does work to a point. But as the album plays, I can't help but miss the more confrontational ferocity that was present in her lyrics and vocal performance, as the overall mid-tempo pace and cleaner guitars carry less weight.

That said, like I mentioned, the hooks are still present and elevate this record a little more than a standard mainstream alternative rock affair. Besides the singles, I also consider cuts like "Hit So Hard", "Reasons to Be Beautiful", and "Heaven Tonight" to have some catchy riffs. "Playing Your Song" has the most angst in the presentation, paired with the filtered guitar line. "Northern Star" proved to be an excellent ballad with the string arrangements, serving as Courtney's heartfelt tribute to her at-the-time boyfriend, actor Edward Norton. Finally, "Petals" was an effective closer about stripping away the false exteriors of those around you to see their true selves, no matter how horrid they may be.

Even if I prefer Live Through This, I still consider Celebrity Skin to be an enjoyable record. Unfortunately, Hole would go on to disband multiple times, as Courtney has largely abandoned them to pursue her solo career. If anything, it's impressive that we got as many good records out of them as we did.

Before I dive deep into this behemoth, let's get some background out of the way. The Magnetic Fields are a Boston-based indie pop group, primarily under the lead of poet/producer/multi-instrumentalist/singer-songwriter Stephin Merritt. The band started in a more lo-fi synth-pop lane until Stephin wanted to pivot into musical theatre and develop a revue. Taking inspiration from composers Stephen Sondheim and Charles Ives, Stephin set out to write a hundred songs centered around the concept of love. After realizing how daunting a task that would be, he settled on writing only 69 songs instead.

So yeah, this album is as advertised on the tin - 69 songs about love, divided across three volumes of 23 songs each, totaling over three hours of music. I've seen enough people bring up this album on the r/1001AlbumsGenerator subreddit whenever they get it, almost as if it's a rite of passage. With that in mind, I took my time with this record, taking breaks between each volume to not overwhelm myself.

I will commend Stephin, his bandmates, and the multiple session musicians for the sheer lyrical depth and stylistic variety across these three volumes. I felt genuinely engaged throughout the runtime as a variety of instruments and compositional choices were used to keep the listener on their toes. Songs tonally range from short punk bursts to more baroque passages, from longer country-folk ballads to electronic loops, and so forth. There is never a dull moment, as each track can be viewed as a different scene in an ongoing narrative of love, viewed from varying perspectives. Whether it's heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, perhaps the person is feeling cold feet, maybe the relationship is only halfway met, there could have been a breakup, or somebody is murdered in the pursuit of passion, or even someone choosing to live out in Washington, D.C., because that's where their baby is, there is no shortage of storytelling and camp on this record.

I'm not gonna say every track was a banger. When you're pushing yourself to write 69 songs of varying styles, mostly centered around love, and in a relatively short time, they can't all be zingers. But more often than not, this album stayed entertaining, and even for the tracks I didn't fully gel with, I have to commend the Magnetic Fields and the session personnel for taking these sonic risks. Not to mention, the vocal performances throughout this record were overall great, particularly the juxtaposition between Stephin's captivating bass and Claudia Gonson's more energetic delivery.

Again, I feel like I had a better time with this record because I gave myself a break between each volume, and that is probably the best recommendation to make. I get the pressure of listening to one album a day, as this generator website is tailored for. But taking the time to let this experience sink in was probably the best way I could have approached 69 Love Songs, and thus I can appreciate it.

After not fully clicking with Brothers in Arms, going back to Dire Straits' self-titled debut felt like slipping on a glove. Between Mark Knopfler's husky delivery and his clean licks opposite his brother David's rhythm guitar rollick, paired with the laid-back rhythm section, and Muff Winwood's crisp production, there's a rather timeless feel to their early roots rock. It certainly sounds more timeless than the 80s synth-drenched tracks on Brothers in Arms.

Yet at the same time, I can recognize this is their debut album, as the songwriting and compositions aren't consistently strong. It's rather apparent what the band's influences were this early on, and that few songs could break away from the low-key atmosphere to form their own identity or match the high quality of "Sultans of Swing".

Still, Dire Straits' first record was a solid effort that showcased such impeccable talent from the get-go.

It was a matter of time before I got an album from Icelandic singer-songwriter Björk. After starting in several rock outfits, most notably the Sugarcubes, she abandoned the guitar-driven format to pursue her own musical taste, influenced by the likes of Kate Bush, Brian Eno, electronic music, and acid house. Through her work with British electronic producer Nellee Hooper, Björk made her proper debut with Debut.

While Björk carried her confidence in songwriting and vocal delivery from her prior musical output, Debut marked the start of a new venture for her, experimenting with programmed loops, audio samples, and more unconventional song structures that fit within the alternative dance scene. Right from the start, with the four-on-the-floor bounce of "Human Behaviour" as she explored the human condition from the eyes of an outsider, there is a sense of an informed identity within her, looking to break out. Between the bumping beats, esoteric sounds, and even Björk's cadence on the jazz standard "Like Someone in Love", there's a rich exploration of this new soundscape that she presided over, bringing along her agency and raw passion to help guide her.

Sure, there's not much in the way of structure or cohesion throughout this record, what with quirks like the partial recording in a London club bathroom for "There's More to Life Than This" and the tonal whiplash from the organ accompaniment with the techno beat on "Big Time Sensuality" into the gentle bass pulse of "One Day". Not to mention, Björk herself wore her influences on her sleeve for this record, not quite finding her unique sonic identity just yet. Nevertheless, Debut was a playful collection of tunes as she found comfort and solace in a style that felt more true to her than what she accomplished up to this point. If anything, it was a solid starting point for checking out her solo career.

For my listening, I had to go to YouTube to listen to the full album, as some tracks are missing on the Spotify release.

Let me get my criticisms of this record out of the way. This is yet another live album in which the songs are out of order and incomplete compared to the original 1964 performance at The Star Club in Hamburg, Germany. The opening cover of Roy Orbison's "Go Go Go (Down the Line)" was left on the cutting room floor until a 1989 reissue, and the taped recordings of Hank Williams's "You Win Again" and Jerry's own "I'm on Fire" are lost to time. While the remaining tapes were sequenced and edited such that it wouldn't be as noticeable to the average listener, it does feel disingenuous to have an incomplete account of what that concert was like.

On top of that, aside from Jerry's more notable contributions like "Great Balls of Fire", most of the remaining set consists of cover songs of existing rock & roll and country standards, for some of which there are superior versions more widely available these days. I'll take the original versions of Ray Charles's "What'd I Say", Little Richard's "Good Golly Miss Molly", Hank Williams's "Your Cheatin' Heart", and Big Mama Thornton's "Hound Dog" any day of the week. Hell, even the Beatles had put out a better cover of Barrett Strong's "Money (That's What I Want)" by this point in time.

That all said, I can still recognize that this was a ferocious performance, a rarity for rock & roll at this time, save for Little Richard and Chuck Berry. Jerry's command behind the mic and piano sounded like a feat to behold, and I also have to commend the backing band for trying to keep up with his pace. Also worth noting is producer Siggi Loch's recording setup, where the positioning of the microphones in proximity to the instruments and the audience made for the best possible capture of the raw energy emanating from that live show. Short of seeing Jerry set his piano on fire, I felt as immersed as I could have been for the performance.

So yeah, I'd say Live at the Star Club is a solid, if not complete, live album. It probably says a lot that this was the one bright spot in a tumultuous and controversial period for Jerry Lee Lewis, an aspect of his career that I did not want to bring up in this review. All I can say after reading up on it is that I needed a shower.

Well, this looks to be another intriguing discovery. For those who don't know, Calexico is a long-running indie rock band from Tucson, Arizona, founded by drummer John Convertino and multi-instrumentalist Joey Burns. Their musical style is often considered as "desert noir"; a blend of traditional Latin sounds, country, and post-rock. After listening to their breakthrough record, Feast of Wire, the band fit that description to a T.

There's a hypnotic feel to the group's ability to weave their influences with the elegant string and trumpet accompaniments, warm pedal steel, spacious guitar lines, the soft rhythm section, and Joey's cold, fried vocal delivery. Most of the songs offer rich, immediate compositions paired with lyrics that feel indebted to the Chicano culture and mysticism surrounding the desert iconography. From the gang life described in "Güero Canelo" to the decadent plaza on "Woven Birds", the imagery painted a striking scenery of hardship and toil for these lives, and I have to commend the group for the vividness in the songwriting.

The only thing that holds me back from fully enjoying this record is the multiple short instrumental interludes. Most of them sounded pleasant and well-composed, to the point where some tracks like "Pepita" and "The Book and the Canal" could have been expanded into their own fully fleshed-out tunes. Instead, I'm left with the odd sentiment that the runtime had to be padded out with these interludes.

Still, I overall enjoyed Feast of Wire, as Calexico managed to carve out their niche and deliver well on it.

I was admittedly curious how the Bee Gees sounded before they switched to the dance-oriented disco style they would be recognized for. But after listening to Trafalgar, I'm not sure if that curiosity was well-rewarded.

The album starts relatively strong with the opening two singles, "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart" and "Israel", where it's clear the hallmark strength of this group early on was the Gibb brothers' vocal harmonies coalescing behind the clear vibrato singing. But after those two hits, it became abundantly clear that this record was very ballad-heavy. Nearly every song followed the formula of slow-tempo, acoustic guitar strumming, and relationship lyrics that offer little in the way of gripping detail or memorable hooks. The few exceptions were "Don't Wanna Live Inside Myself", where Barry questions his choices in life, and "Lion in Winter", where the imagery of the title is used to exemplify Robin's struggles with his faith. They were neat little deviations on an otherwise rote effort.

It hurts to say, but I was not impressed much by Trafalgar. Not a bad album, but I doubt I'm going to remember this record well compared to their later disco efforts.

It's been about six months since I got One Nation Under a Groove, and I remember enjoying that album in all its weirdness. Now working my way back, I got their acclaimed third album, Maggot Brain.

I will say that this record is the kind of explosive, psychedelic funk rock affair that could not and did not let a second go by wasted. Which is saying a lot, considering Maggot Brain is bookended by Eddie Hazel's spacious Hendrix-esque fuzzed-out guitar solo of the ten-minute title track, and the freak-out noise collage of "Wars of Armageddon", symbolizing urban decay and the loss in translation of political messaging. These two tracks act as a sort of birth and death, followed by a subsequent rebirth if the last couple of heartbeat sounds indicate such.

Sandwiched between these two behemoths is a collection of bass-heavy, soulful tracks that boast harmonious vocals and socially conscious lyrics injected with some much-needed humor. The burned-out physical relationship of "Can You Get to That", the goofy yet bustling "Hit It and Quit", the calls for unity on "You and Your Folks, Me and My Folks" and "Back in Our Minds", the admittedly hilarious drug mixup of the junkie on "Super Stupid", all these songs carry some meaningful lessons amidst the formidable grooves, Bernie Worrell's prominent keyboards, and Eddie's funky-ass soloing.

Honestly, Maggot Brain impressed me on another level compared to One Nation Under a Groove and Parliament's Mothership Connection. George Clinton and company were direct in their messaging, while reveling in the dark, sprawling, chaotic psychedelic funk fusion that they found themselves in. The maggots have come to nest.

I will not include the bonus takes in this review.

Bill Evans was a legendary jazz pianist who influenced the harmonic language of his instrument. He studied classical music before moving to New York City to work with the likes of bandleader George Russell and Miles Davis. In fact, Evans was part of Davis's sextet when the latter recorded Kind of Blue, an album I thoroughly enjoyed a couple of months ago on my album journey. Shortly after those sessions, Evans left Davis's group to begin his career as a leader, forming a jazz trio with bassist Scott LaFaro and drummer Paul Motian. The three of them would work across both traditional jazz standards and original compositions, with an added emphasis on interplay among themselves. This musical kinship spanned over two studio albums and two live albums recorded at the Village Vanguard jazz club in New York City, only to be cut short by LaFaro's tragic death in a car accident.

For as much as Sunday at the Village Vanguard is billed as a performance of Bill Evans and his trio, the track selections for this record were deliberately made by Evans as a tribute to LaFaro. Not only is this record bookended with two of Lafaro's striking original compositions, "Gloria's Step" (Take 2) and "Jade Visions" (Take 2), but the rest of the chosen covers were the best showcase of the young prodigy's eclectic soloing and countermelodic basslines. That's not to say Evans took a backseat; rather, the three of them played well off each other in such synchronicity. Evans made the most out of his block chords and modal inflections, and Paul Motian effectively utilized drum brushes on the quieter moments while modulating towards thunderous bombast on cuts like Miles Davis's "Solar" and the sprawling take on Sammy Fain's theme for the Alice in Wonderland film.

Would it have been nice to have had the entire Village Vanguard performance packaged in one album? Sure, it would have. But as a curated experience of what was considered the brightest and best of Bill Evans's short-lived trio, I'd say this record hits it out of the park.

Another day, another British rock band I hadn't heard of before. Skunk Anansie hail from London, and are largely categorized as a mixture of hard rock and alternative metal, with influences from dub and reggae, and a powerhouse vocalist in Skin. I was genuinely curious how this group and their record, Post Orgasmic Chill, hold up against the large swathe of heavier alternative bands that have found success. There was some initial excitement from the opening run of "Charlie Big Potato" through "We Don't Need Who You Think You Are", and yet the kinetic energy of the band felt weirdly restrained upon closer examination.

The more I listened to this album, the more I was reminded of a similar group that would emerge decades later here in the States - Halestorm. After all, both groups combine hard rock with alternative metal, with powerhouse female vocalists who are their respective bands' largest appeal. Sure, Skin has a more distinctly black British dialect, but the parallels between her and Lzzy Hale are there.

Unfortunately, these parallels also extend to my issues with this album. The songwriting doesn't quite offer enough nuance or detail to give these songs that extra weight or flavor. The subject matter tends to oscillate between relationship issues and self-empowerment, with little else to offer aside from specific Britishisms, such as on "Charlie Big Potato" and "The Skank Heads". Even more indicting is the polished production from Andy Wallace. He may be competent enough to push Skin in front of the mix as necessary, but his production style doesn't elicit that distinct crunch or heaviness the band is craving for. The closest this album gets to explosive delivery is on "The Skank Heads", and even then, this sound could have been pushed farther, especially given how ballad-heavy tracks are towards the middle.

It hurts me to say, but I'm admittedly a bit disappointed. I imagine that, like with Halestorm, Skunk Anansie works better as a live act, and I would probably enjoy them a lot more in that unrestrained environment than in the studio. Because, as it is, Post Orgasmic Chill is a serviceable hard rock record tailor-made for the radio, but it could have been more than that.

I admittedly dreaded after seeing that Morrissey, on his own, had four records on this list, in addition to the three allotted for the Smiths. As I established in my review of Meat is Murder and The Queen is Dead, Morrissey had been the biggest hurdle for me getting into the Smiths because he's that much of a dick. As one could imagine, I was even less enthused about going into his solo output. Still, I can now say that I enjoyed The Queen is Dead, and I wanted to go into this album with an open mind. So, what did I get with Morrissey, You Are the Quarry?

Well, instrumentally, this is a pleasant-sounding record. It's a nice blend of early 2000s alternative and pop rock, with Morrissey's baritone delivery nestled in front of Alain Whyte's elegant guitar play, a decent rhythm section, and some lush string arrangements. It's not the most commanding instrumental performance coming off the two Smiths albums I heard prior, but it does make for an enjoyable listen.

What isn't as enjoyable, unfortunately, are the lyrics. For better and worse, You Are the Quarry is an album largely about Morrissey's own drama, from his trademark self-deprecation to very on-the-nose critiques. Look, I get it - he doesn't like the British tabloids, he doesn't like his former Smiths bandmates, he doesn't like people who eat meat, he doesn't like authority, he didn't like his Catholic upbringing, he doesn't like his home in Camden, London, he certainly doesn't like what England and America had become at the turn of the century, and most tellingly, he doesn't like himself and questions whether anyone is truly capable of loving him. While that frustration can be channeled into some intriguing storytelling, such as the tribute to his Hispanic fanbase on "First of the Gang to Die", the cultural divide in his heritages on "Irish Blood, English Heart", and the imagery of being deserted by Jesus as he struggled with his faith on "I Forgive You Jesus", almost half of this album's content is very specific to Morrissey to the point where I had trouble finding pathos or relatability. Tracks like "This World is Full of Crashing Bores" and "How Can Anybody Possibly Know How I Feel?" reeked of high-brow observations from Morrissey on others, whereas his refuge amongst the lesbians in "All the Lazy Dykes" gets rather creepy as he asks them to touch and squeeze him. So much of this album depends on how much one cares about Morrissey's tea, and that's hard for me to swallow; again, this man is the reason I had a hard time getting into the Smiths.

I just can't find myself coming back to You Are the Quarry much. There are a few songs to cherry-pick from, but that's the best I can do. I certainly don't look forward to the other Morrissey solo records.

I will not include the bonus cover of the Cure's "Just Like Heaven" in this review.

Let me start by stating that I'm lukewarm towards Dinosaur Jr., one of the bands responsible for creating the rough-edged jangling side of indie rock in the mid-1980s. I enjoyed a couple of tracks here and there, including "Sludgefeast" off this record. I wanted to give this album a fair shake, so what did we get on You're Living All Over Me?

I will say that this album starts strong, where the strengths of this group are evident early on in the compositions. Lou Barlow's rattling basslines complement J Mascis's guitar melodies in a manner that works quite well within the loud-quiet-loud dynamic that would help define the underground indie sound. Pair that with the distorted feedback, Murph's punchy drumwork, and Mascis's cryptic lyrics that deal with faltering relationships and social restrictions, and the result is a distinct style.

Perhaps the writing could have been a little stronger, and the album ends on an admittedly perfunctory note with the ukulele-led "Poledo". But as a whole, You're Living All Over Me is a pretty solid outing from a group that forged their path in indie music credibly well.

Well, after getting Donald Fagen's solo debut, it was about time I got some Steely Dan. Both Fagen and co-founder Walter Becker dedicated themselves to perfecting their craft in the studio alongside a revolving door of session musicians. This habit led to a period of critical and commercial success, culminating in the release of Aja (pronounced "Asia").

For what it's worth, I consider this record to be a comfortable slice of smooth jazz rock. The warm production, clean guitar textures, soulful vocal deliveries, vibrant horn arrangements, and improvisational compositions all coalesce into this laid-back experience. I can hear how this album had a major influence on the yacht rock scene. Probably the crown jewel of this sound is "Peg", with its bumping groove, soaring guitar soloing, and multi-tracked backing vocals.

Sure, the lyrics haven't aged well, and there are more challenging jazz-rock records from the likes of Miles Davis, Frank Zappa, and Mahavishnu Orchestra. But Aja is a pleasant record from start to finish, with plenty of intriguing passages to keep it engaging.

I will not include the bonus tracks in this review.

I have heard of the East Coast hip-hop group Fugees. The collective of Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, and Pras Michel took elements of funk, R&B, and reggae with socially conscious lyrics at a time when gangsta rap was dominant. They only released two studio albums before internal conflicts led to their split and subsequent pursuit of solo careers, occasionally reuniting to perform since. The Score is the latter of those two records, becoming a commercial success, and I can see why.

This is a well-produced album where the live instrumentation is balanced with eclectic sample choices. Some truly inspired samplings are blended well, including Enya's "Boadicea" on "Ready or Not", the Flamingos' "I Only Hae Eyes for You" on "Zealots", and A Tribe Called Quest's "Bonita Applebum" on the cover of Lori Lieberman's "Killing Me Softly with His Song". Combine that with the main trio's laid-back lyrical flows, equally shared among each other, with the occasional extra singing on Lauryn's part, and the result is a sound that has aged remarkably well.

That said, the lyrical subject matter could have been more varied. Multiple tracks on this album are about the Fugees' ability to rap and outwit their contemporaries. Of those tracks, it's clear that "Ready or Not" towards the beginning remained the best, followed by the title track, which also served as a warning for other emcees to avoid any street violence their music might instigate. The only other tracks that vary up the lyrics are "The Beast", which alludes to police brutality towards minorities, and "The Mask", in which African-Americans had to conceal their true emotions to present themselves neatly in a white-dominant society. Outside of those, the skits haven't exactly aged well, and it's clear that the songs that remained in the public consciousness either had a prominent recognizable sample, are a cover of a well-known song, or both in the case of "Killing Me Softly with His Song".

Still, I'd say The Score is a solid record that exemplified a lot of then-young talent and proved that conscious rap still had its place in music.

I've enjoyed the French electronic duo Justice, up to and including seeing them live at Coachella back in 2024. Their style of electro house, typified by those heavy, buzzing basslines and the booming bass drum notes, took major influences from disco, funk, and hard rock. Having already heard half of their debut record, Cross, I was looking forward to checking out the other half, and the experience certainly enthralled me.

From the opening bombast of "Genesis" giving way to the supple bass groove, blaring drills, and chopped-up sampling, the sound is established. The duo of Gaspard Augé and Xavier de Rosnay effectively utilized distorted synths, hard-hitting percussion, ever-present basslines, and numerous micro-samples to create imaginative compositions that flow seamlessly from one to the next, maintaining listener engagement. Even when vocals do show up occasionally on this record, such as the chorus of children on "D.A.N.C.E.", the raspy vocals of Uffie on "The Party", and the glossy delivery of Mehdi Pinson on "DVNO", their presences felt complementary to the swagger and bounce of those tracks.

Sure, it might seem simple in its musical statement, and perhaps the methods in which they mash and play with the samples and distorted elements can be overwhelming for some. But I still enjoyed Cross all the way through, as Justice carved their own niche in a throwback sound that still feels fresh and innovative years later.

As soon as I saw that this album was on the list, I prepared for it. Ghosteen has been framed as the final part of a trilogy of albums spanning Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds' output through the 2010s, following Push the Sky Away and Skeleton Tree. I gave both of those albums a listen to better understand how they would be followed up on. I'm also aware that Nick Cave's son Arthur passed away back in 2015, after much of Skeleton Tree was written. There was a certain expectation festering in my mind of Nick leaning into more grief amidst the electronic and ambient textures that have colored the then-most-recent works. So let me state this for the record - while I admit that this album may be viewed as the "weakest" of the aforementioned trilogy, that is not to excuse how damn potent it is.

I might as well get my nitpicks out of the way, as the idea of Ghosteen being the "weakest" will loom longer if I don't address it. Mainly, my concerns lie with the structuring of this record. It is a double album that does admittedly run long, and requires thoughtful listening as the mixes are so spare and restrained, and the beats are so minimal that attention has to be paid to any tunefulness and poetic frailty that cuts to the front. There aren't any musical climaxes like on Push the Sky Away or any melodic choices that hit as hard as on Skeleton Tree, as the music is largely ambient to allow the listener to sink into the textures. But then there's also a matter of how the two halves of this record are divided - the first disc being eight songs described as "from the children", while the second disc is two long songs split by a spoken word interlude referred to as "from the parents". On a pure musical level, there's a certain awkwardness with the sequencing in terms of building towards those emotional climaxes. The first disc ending on "Leviathan" may make sense lyrically, but sonically it does feel a tad incomplete, where the end of disc two on "Hollywood" is more jarring with the minor key brittleness that comes off as a rather bleak way to end an otherwise ethereal experience.

Yet, there is something truly mesmerizing in this album's minimalist compositions. Take for example the fuzzed-out, clanking introduction to "Waiting for You" that lasts a few seconds before the song shifts to an outright piano ballad, or the faint, muffled stutter of the ascending guitar against the gentle warmth of the strings on "Sun Forest", or the vocal pickups that build such a striking foundation on "Galleon Ship", or the little synth flourishes on "Ghosteen Speaks", or even the hand percussion touches around a mix of faint electronic layers and melodic swell off the piano chords on "Leviathan". Even if there isn't a defined groove, the rich cushion of atmosphere and effective use of negative space made up for the lack of any explicit hook.

Of course, when the musical landscape is largely atmospheric, the logical centerpiece in this mix is Nick Cave himself, with a painfully aching vocal delivery that can still command gravitas. He assumes the focal point as the storyteller for the abstract stories that need to be told. There are some genuinely striking moments coming from his voice, such as the full-throated singing on "Waiting for You", the accompanying backing chorus on "Sun Forest" and "Spinning Song", and the female vocals sliding behind him on "Night Raid".

As for the content with which Nick uses that voice, there is a continuation of certain metaphors and points of reference from the previously mentioned works. The burning trees and creatures rising from the ocean that were on Push the Sky Away are used in such apocalyptic scenery, as the children ascend towards the sun in a similar iconography to the passing through worlds witnessed on Skeleton Tree. This leads into the larger text of Ghosteen as rooted in the healing of grief and heartbreak that came from Nick Cave losing his son, now left to reconcile with the son's passage into another plane of existence that he can't contextualize. Alongside that, there had been a long-running subtext through these albums about the music itself - the questions of advancing artistry into untold depths on Push the Sky Away, the whole concept of narratives severed on Skeleton Tree, and here with bookending statements about the inevitability of death, yet through art's transmission beyond that life there can be an emotional clarity found between the artist and their audience.

Even still, there's another side to the narrative that has to be mentioned, and that is what Nick himself is left to do back on earth. In the text, Nick is still patching up the lingering pain that he and his wife had endured, while in the subtext, the art has to mend that gap to his audience, to rebuild the faith in his stories and that emotive connection. It's why "Night Raid" retells his son's conception with swirling images of birth and death, the gravitas of the moment symbolized by the returning horses to the street. It's why the fairy tale of Goldilocks and the three bears is recontextualized on the title track to highlight the sense of falling into routine to maintain a lingering connection. Probably most potently on the record, it's why on the interlude "Fireflies", the impossibility of holding on to that cosmic connection is compared to the photons of a dying star, as they inch across space to land their energy. By the time they achieve this feat, they're left as memories. That leads us into "Hollywood" at the end, where life seems cheapened amid a dark, apocalyptic world, as Nick waits to cross that distance himself to reunite with his son. That is, until he recalls the Buddhist tale of Kisa, a woman whose son dies and she searches for answers from the Buddha, only to be told instead to collect a mustard seed from each house whose owner has never lost someone; she could not collect a single one. At this point, the text and subtext are joined: until that great barrier is passed, what we have on earth is all that we got, whether it's the flawed community we find or the audience who will take that conveyance of energy and momentum in art and reflect it on the artist.

If it wasn't apparent, I was moved by this record. Admittedly, I nearly broke down in tears while listening in the office. Ghosteen may not possess the compositional bombast of its preceding records, but that doesn't stop it from being a sonically gorgeous, nuanced, and striking effort. There is a command of atmosphere and intricacy that I can't help but be moved by. While complete peace may be further on down the road, there's enough found here that was made beautiful.

I will not include the bonus tracks from the US Astralwerks release in this review.

It had been some time since I listened to Fatboy Slim, after getting You've Come a Long Way Baby as album #46 on my journey. I figured going back to his debut album would elicit an understanding of the sonic direction he would take his big beat music, without being as strong or compelling as his international breakthrough. Turns out that was the right expectation to set for Better Living Through Chemistry.

To be fair, there are a couple of genuine bops on this record, particularly the run from "Going Out of My Head" through "Give the Po' Man a Break", where the eclectic sampling and electronic instrumentation are cleverly blended and make for an engaging listen. However, my interest admittedly started to wane with the warbly synths on "10th and Crenshaw", saved towards the end with the Kraftwerk-esque vocalization against the breakbeats on "Punk to Funk" and the filtered guitar rollick playing through "The Sound of Milwaukee".

There are some good ideas to be found here, and I can hear how Fatboy Slim would become the creative force he's known to be in the electronic landscape. It's a fine record, even if it doesn't feel like their most enticing output.

I will lay my bias out right now, because I saw Judas Priest perform live last year with my Dad, and they're still kicking ass over fifty years into their career. One of the pioneering groups of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal movement, the band has been highly influential in heavy music, and their record British Steel is a testament to that legacy.

From the opening guitar riff of "Breaking the Law" to the blistering speed of "Rapid Fire" and "Steeler", to pulse-pounding stompers like "Metal Gods" and "The Rage", to outright uplifting jams like "Living After Midnight" and "United", everyone in the group was firing on all cylinders. Rob Halford's soaring vocals, the twin-guitar attack of K.K. Downing and Glenn Tipton, and the equally visceral rhythm support of Ian Hill and Dave Holland made for an electrifying experience, filtered through the well-balanced production from Tom Allom. These songs boast tight compositions, and the lyrics match the ferocity of the execution.

Sure, arguments could have been made for later efforts, such as Screaming for Vengeance and Painkiller; those albums have also garnered popularity in their singles and more aggressive sound. Yet, it was British Steel that was chosen for the list because this was Judas Priest's breakthrough into the mainstream, and I'm inclined to say it still holds up all these decades later. They are Metal Gods among mortal men.

Throughout my album journey, I have noticed an inevitability that certain artists whose legacies have withstood the test of time will receive at least one or two inclusions in the books. Case in point, Frank Sinatra, often regarded as one of the greatest singers of the 20th century, got two albums included.

To be fair, Songs for Swingin' Lovers is a pleasant little record. Sinatra's sultry voice and Nelson Riddle's bombastic orchestral arrangements made for a potent combination of ripe textures to these traditional pop standards. Renditions of the likes of Cole Porter's "Anything Goes" and "I've Got You Under My Skin", as well as other cuts such as Josef Myrow's "You Make Me Feel Young" and Burton Lane's "Old Devil Moon" come off as smooth and delectable as butter.

That said, it made for an album experience where Sinatra and Riddle stuck to a formula that certainly worked, but didn't push the envelope any further. Also not helping matters were a few instances of the cover selections having language that aged weirdly, such as Walter Donaldson's "Makin' Whoopee".

Still, Songs for Swingin' Lovers proved to be a mostly classy good time. I am certainly curious about the other Frank Sinatra album included.

I started listening to Echo and the Bunnymen this year. They're another legendary band hailing from Liverpool, who carved their own legacy in the post-punk movement through employing moody atmospheres and poetic lyricism. Ocean Rain is probably one of their more notable releases, after I came off lead single "The Killing Moon" in Rock Band 3, and second track "Nocturnal Me" in the first season of Stranger Things. I consider both tracks to be stunning, so how does the rest of the record stack up?

This album can be described with one word: beautiful. The lush string arrangements courtesy of the accompanying orchestra, the intricate guitar melodies, the cold yet striking rhythm section, and the touches of reverb in the production all coalesce behind Ian McCulloch's haunting vocal delivery. Combining that sonic quality with the poetic prose of the lyrics, utilizing some striking imagery while leaving it just vague enough to open interpretation, the result is a listening experience that grew on me in its deviancy.

I honestly don't have much else to say when Ocean Rain is simply this delightful. I'm curious how the rest of the Echo & the Bunnymen records on this list hold up in comparison.