Reviews by abrisskull

Let me start by stating that I understand why this album is on the list. Dire Straits were one of those groups that may be slowly disappearing from the public consciousness with time, but I always admired their stripped-back roots rock sound. Their style felt like a deliberate callback to a simpler sound, compared to the bigger and louder styles that prevailed from the late 70s into the 80s.

As for this particular album, Brothers in Arms became one of the first albums to break big in the CD market, recorded digitally at a time when artists were still using analog. Songwriter, guitarist, and vocalist Mark Knopfler was striving to perfect his band's sound, and as such, embraced the new recording technology as a means towards that goal. Pairing that sentimentality with their throwback rock sound, it must have sounded like a slam dunk for them, right?

Well, I'll admit, for as much as I generally enjoyed Brothers in Arms, there are a few problems that need to be addressed. The shorter-to-describe issue I have with this album is how torn the sound is between the aforementioned throwback sound the band had been known for, with the blare of synthesizers and electric keyboards from new member Guy Fletcher. This was noticeable on tracks like "Money for Nothing" and "The Man's Too Strong", where the juxtaposition of guitar riffs and booming synths made for an odd clash of tones that made this album feel dated. It's probably not the description that Mark Knopfler intended in his desire for perfection, but given that synthesizers were part of what was the "wave of the future" sound at the time, it seemed like an earnest attempt to merge both worlds that didn't quite stick the landing.

The much larger issue I have with this album is the lack of cohesion throughout. We open on someone longing for their lover who is away from home ("So Far Away") before sharply changing perspective to two bigoted appliance deliverymen trash-talking the musicians they see on MTV ("Money for Nothing"). Then, we switch to the story about a young kid playing old rock & roll tunes down in the subway ("Walk of Life"), followed by a suite of love songs ("Your Latest Trick", "Why Worry?"). Finally, we close out the album on a series of anti-war musings that opt for a more cynical viewpoint ("Ride Across the River", "The Man's Too Strong", the title track). Oh, and in between the anti-war songs is a track about being in a more generalized bad mood ("One World"). There isn't much done to connect these songs thematically, outside of being basic observations made by Mark Knopfler.

To Mark's credit, some of these tracks are genuinely good. I'm a sucker for the jaunty bounce of "Walk of Life" that lyrically draws from those old rock & roll tunes. It's got the sort of whimsy that elevates the story of the street performer. The opening "So Far Away" is a pleasant breeze in its swaying momentum and slide guitar licks that almost excuse how the phrase "you're so far away from me" is constantly repeated throughout the song. The anti-war songs all bring different styles and insights. "Ride Across the River" with the spare trumpets, percussion, and low-end keyboard invokes the vibe of the soldier wading through the jungle waters towards their inevitable next fight. "The Man's Too Strong" boasts country-style guitar playing as the narrator contemplates all the evils committed for their government, identified as "the man". The title track is a haunting closer with the keyboard swell in the background, reflecting on the then-ongoing Falklands War and how every soldier on both sides of the conflict could be viewed as the same.

As for the songs I didn't like, the love songs didn't do much for me outside of the somewhat clever puns Mark made on "Your Latest Trick", and "Why Worry?" sounded very much in the style of the Everly Brothers. "One World" was such an odd track to place between the anti-war songs, which added to the overall dated feel with the swampy bass tone and delivery.

That leaves "Money for Nothing", a song that has become one of Dire Straits' most well-known songs. Let me state that I understand the concept behind this song. According to Mark, he went to an appliance store in New York City, and one of the employees there was delivering boxes and made the comments heard in the song, as he and Mark were watching MTV on the wall of televisions in the store. This song is Mark taking those bigoted comments and putting them to song as apropos of the mindset of the blue-collar worker that would bemoan how the musician makes more money than they do for what they perceive as less work. That is the general conceit of the song, and I understand why Mark would write this. Here's the thing - this song doesn't offer much more than those remarks made. If it was meant to be satire, then the joke being "look at how sexist and racist these men are" isn't much of a punchline or meaningful critique. Furthermore, there was an opportunity here for Mark to put some actual insight into why these blue-collar workers think this way. What does it say about the economic disparity that the worker feels they aren't making as much of a living, or their social status isn't as great, compared to the musician? What value do we place in art that puts it above such menial labor? These are the questions I'm left to ask, because Mark didn't bother to ask them to begin with. I feel like there should have been more said in the song, especially since the song is eight minutes long and they brought in Sting to sing the refrain of "I want my MTV" in the style of The Police's "Don't Stand So Close to Me". Suffice it to say, this song could have been better.

With all that said, I come back to the sentiment that I get why Brothers In Arms is on this list. Even if this album doesn't fully click for me, it has historical significance, and some songs do hold up. I wish that I liked it more, but them's the breaks.

After getting three later albums of all-original material (Sgt. Pepper, Revolver, A Hard Day's Night), it feels weird getting an early record of theirs where nearly half the songs are covers. It feels even more bizarre that the album in question is still pretty good.

For sure, the covers on With the Beatles were done in such a clear imitation that you can tell where each of the songs came from. "Rock and Roll Music" sounds a lot like Chuck Berry. "You Really Got a Hold on Me" sounds like Smokey Robinson. Both "Please Mr. Postman" and "Money (That's What I Want)" sound like they came straight out of Motown in the delivery. The young lads at this time weren't being experimental in their renditions. Yet, they still played these songs with the top-notch execution that you would expect them to play at this early in their career.

Not to mention, the original songs on this record mostly hold up all these decades later. The opening run from "It Won't Be Long" through the George Harrison-led "Don't Bother Me" is still amazing. "Not a Second Time" is a decent cut towards the end. Even the Ringo-led "I Wanna Be Your Man" is a fun bop that Lennon and McCartney originally penned for the Rolling Stones.

Overall, With the Beatles may not be an essential listen for a list of albums to listen to before you die in retrospect, but it's still a fun time.

I will not include the bonus tracks or rehearsal demos of the 2007 reissue for this review.

I can't say I've heard of The Triffids before. They were an Australian alternative rock band that blended elements of folk music, where they seemed to get lumped into the then-burgeoning post-punk craze of the 1980s. They eventually found success overseas in the UK with their album Born Sandy Devotional and secured a recording contract with Island Records for this album, Calenture.

The recording sessions for Calenture sounded difficult. The band constantly traveled back and forth between the UK and Australia to work on it, and they went through multiple label-appointed producers before bringing back Gil Norton, who worked on Born Sandy Devotional along with earlier efforts from Echo & the Bunnymen.

These constant changes for the band also tied into the songwriting, where frontman David McComb sought to capture feelings of isolation and distress akin to what sailors would experience overseas for long periods. The illusion of the loved one who's not there on "A Trick of the Light" and "Unmade Love", the burning down of a hometown on "Hometown Farewell Kiss", the imagery of being found buried in "Bury Me Deep in Love" and "Open For You", the sinking feeling of being distant from friends and loved ones on "Vagabond Holes" and "Save What You Can". It is evident how pained David must have been penning these words, delivered in this sultry croon that reminded me of fellow Aussie Nick Cave.
David was the focal point of this group, and the album is well-produced around him with the necessary string arrangements, synthesizers, and reverb to bolster his voice.

That said, I struggle to determine how distinct this group was compared to other post-punk groups around this time. Besides David, the rest of the band members played decently. There were a few instrumental highlights, such as the guitar work on "Kelly's Blues" and "Open For You", the bouncing shuffle-rhythm with accompanying bell chimes of "Holy Water", the autoharp melody of "Blinder by the Hour", and the dissonant title track that encapsulates the feeling of losing sanity. But for me, these distinct moments felt few and far between as the focus was kept on David.

I still consider Calenture an intriguing listen, reflecting what the band went through being pulled away from their homeland. The Triffids are remembered fondly back in Australia, which is pretty cool.

This will have been my third Led Zeppelin record on my journey after getting I and IV. While I will admit that IV had more dynamic scope in the songwriting and more refined production from Jimmy Page, that's not to say II isn't a banger record.

From front to back, each of these songs that the band wrote and performed, both their original compositions and their interpolations of blues classics, is still enjoyable today. The opening riff of "Whole Lotta Love" gives way to Robert Plant's soaring vocals over an extended breakdown of overdubbed instruments. "What Is and Never Should Be" is an excellent quiet-loud-quiet composition with Plant's phased vocals. "The Lemon Song" is a creative spin on Howlin' Wolf's "Killing Floor" with sexually charged lyrics. "Thank You" boasts a wonderful atmospheric build with John Paul Jones's Hammond organ playing in the background. "Heartbreaker" into "Living Loving Maid (Just a Woman)" is the one-two punch rocker emblematic of the group this early in their career. "Ramble On" is a classic folk rock ode to Tolkien's Middle-Earth that feels inspiring for the next adventure. "Moby Dick" has the luxury of containing the awe-strucking extended drum solo from John Bonham. Finally, the band closes with a cover of Sonny Boy Williamson II's "Bring It On Home" that starts and ends laid-back and reserved like the original while going full-on frontal assault in the middle.

There ain't much else to say when II is a straightforward blues rock rager that marked improvement from their debut months earlier.

Supergrass is one of those groups that I only knew for one song, in this case, "Grace" off the Lego Rock Band soundtrack. Lead vocalist Gaz Coombes and drummer Danny Goffey started out in a band called the Jennifers until they befriended bassist Mick Quinn, changed their name to Theodore Supergrass, and then shortened the name to Supergrass. They signed to Parlophone, released their debut album, I Should Coco, and saw quite the boom amidst the Britpop craze. In It for the Money is the group's followup, and man I was genuinely impressed by this album.

Right from the get-go with the organ swell into the guitar arpeggios and Gaz Coombes's voice all crescendoing into the rocking title track, there's a lost of bombast and intricate songwriting going on. I was engaged all the way through, as the group run the gambit from rauckus jams such as "Richard III", "Tonight" and "Sun Hits the Sky", to gorgeous acoustic ballads such as "Late in the Day" and "It's Not Me", to outright stompers such as "G-Song", "Going Out", "Cheapskate" and closer "Sometimes I Make You Sad". Never once did I feel that Gaz's high-pitched voice come off as nasally or unintelliglible. Never once did I not enjoy a sonic shift that the group went for in the sort of experimental rock that harkened back to the Beatles without being an overt callback. Never once did I feel that this band come off as pretentious or snide in their song construction and delivery. These lads had genuine talent and a sheer commitment to their craft, with plenty of hooks and riffs to blow the house down.

I don't know what else to say here. I was floored by this album, as it made me realize Supergrass are an underrated group in the larger pantheon of Britpop.

Well, it was only a matter of time before I got an album from Eminem on this journey. Given the Detroit rapper's continued presence within the culture, you'd figure at least an album or two of his would show up. We get to start with the album that broke Em into the mainstream, The Slim Shady LP.

Slim Shady, Eminem's violent alter ego, originally made his debut on The Slim Shady EP, as a voice of anger and frustration for Em to vent through after the failure of his debut album Infinite. Unfortunately, the EP wasn't selling many units, and it certainly didn't stop Em from getting evicted from his home. The next best thing he could do was head out to Los Angeles and compete in the Rap Olympics, ending up in second place, and handing out his EP to the attending staff from Interscope Records. The EP was sent to CEO Jimmy Iovine and then shared with the founder of Aftermath Entertainment, the legendary rapper/producer Dr. Dre. Through Dre, Em got his second wind.

This album is built upon the foundation of work by Em, Dre, Dre's frequent collaborator Mel-Man, and Em's previous producers, the Bass Brothers. As a result, these songs are bolstered by bass-heavy beats and well-done sampling akin to the West Coast hip hop and G-funk that Dre helped pioneer and Em felt influenced by. From "My Name Is" built off the sample of Labi Siffre's "I Got the...", to the drum-and-bass with prominent piano combination of "Guilty Conscience", to the haunting synth melodies that purvey in the background of "'97 Bonnie & Clyde" and "Rock Bottom", to the upbeat disco groove of "Cum On Everybody", to the guitarline and heavily distorted bass on "Bad Meets Evil", the soundscape of this record is vast but with this demented angle to match the persona of Slim. Granted, not every song I heard had the best backing track, such as the filtered scream sample throughout "Just Don't Give a Fuck" that became irritating, or the vocal filter placed around Em's vocals over the funk guitarline on the hook of "My Fault". But for the most part, these tracks have a solid base for Shady to come alive.

At this point, we should get to the lyrical content. Like I mentioned earlier, Slim Shady was Em's violent alter ego, and through Em's still-developing but hungry lyrical flow and rhyming, Shady could go off with his cartoonishly violent stories. From his introduction on the track "My Name Is", to the angel and devil on the shoulder as played by Shady and Dre on "Guilty Conscience", to having his daughter help him throw mommy off the pier on "'97 Bonnie & Clyde", to the people that want to imitate him on "Role Model", to the perverse sex jam that opens with referencing Kurt Cobain's suicide on "Cum On Everybody", to the literal "Fuck the World" in a similar vein to 2Pac on "Just Don't Give a Fuck" and its sister track "Still Don't Give a Fuck", to the wild-west cold-blooded team-up with Royce Da 5'9" on "Bad Meets Evil", the venom which Shady spat through Em was palpable and had some good shock value for its time. There are even a few moments where, through Shady, Eminem shedded some light on his life problems, such as the school bully he faced on "Brain Damage" or the struggle to maintain a minimum-wage job on "Rock Bottom", and its those moments in nearly breaking character that stood out well in my view.

That said, not every song has lyrically aged well. Besides the obvious references that have become dated, such as going onto Jerry Springer's show on "Role Model", there were some stories as told by Shady that I just did not find compelling to listen to. I wasn't invested in the accidental overdose of a girl on mushrooms on "My Fault", or the terrorizing of various women on "As the World Turns". The story of being a white trash drug dealer on "I'm Shady" seemed predictable by the time it came on, and the interpolation of Curtis Mayfield's "Pusherman" on the hook can be viewed as either kinda cool or cringe-inducing depending on perspective. Between these few half-baked songs and the multiple skits, the album becomes tedious in trying to maintain shock value for an hour.

As such, I view The Slim Shady LP as more historically significant. This album brought one of the most prominent rappers to the limelight and helped influence a multitude of next-generation rappers. I know that Slim Shady has become a double-edged sword for Em, as the people kept clamoring for Shady while Em tried to kill him off more than once and try to move on. But at the end of the day, that dark side of humanity through Shady is an exploration that I found some enjoyment in.

Arctic Monkeys is a group that I've listened to time and again. They're an English indie garage rock revival group that exploded onto the scene thanks in part to the proliferation of their work on the internet, only to mellow as the years went by into a sort of hodgepodge with psychedelic rock and lounge. It's weird how such a tonal shift happened. Thankfully, their debut Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not captures the band's early tenacity.

The vibe I got from this album was meeting up with my mates at the downtown pub, heading in, and getting blasted in the ears by this hot new band playing their live set. I head near the stage to catch what they're playing, and am genuinely impressed by the degree to which these young lads utilized complex riffs and syncopated rhythms. There seemed to be a lot more beneath the surface as they rolled on with their frenetic dance jams with a few well-sequenced breaks in between, such as the slow-burn ballad "Riot Van" and the loud-quiet-loud structure of "Mardy Bum".

As for frontman Alex Turner himself, he sang with a strong dialect about the nightlife. From taking in the scenery on opener "The View from the Afternoon", to envisioning the girl out of her mundane situation into the downtown on "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor", to the nervousness in making a move on "Dancing Shoes", to the group of friends looking to have fun despite their current circumstances on "Riot Van", these general musings work in tandem with the garage rock production to illicit that vibe of the pub band taking their observations and putting them to song. Admittedly, the focus on spurring relationships gets a wee bit repetitive throughout the record, especially coming out of Alex's thick accent. Still, it generally works with the vibe and doesn't completely take me out of the performance.

Overall, I'd say this was a solid debut for Arctic Monkeys, with a style and songwriting approach they refined for their next album, Favourite Worst Nightmare, before they shifted gears. It's certainly felt like a nice trip to the local dive.

Lynyrd Skynyrd is probably one of the first bands I was introduced to via Guitar Hero II, rocking out to a cover of "Free Bird" on a plastic guitar controller. It was a cool time as a young teen getting into rock music, and as such, there's a certain nostalgia with checking out the bands I was exposed to early on. With revisiting Lynyrd Skynyrd's debut in mind, does it still hold up all these years later?

The answer to that question is a resounding yes. (Pronounced 'Lĕh-'nérd 'Skin-'nérd) represented the craftsmanship and standards the band held during their original run with vocalist and lyricist Ronnie Van Zant. His words delivered in that Southern drawl were observations from hard lessons learned in life. The relationship drama of "I Ain't the One" and "Gimme Three Steps", the perils of alcoholism on "Poison Whiskey", living in poverty while the American elite continue to profit on "Things Goin' On". These stories still feel resonant today in how they were told over the twin guitar riffing of Allen Collins and Gary Rossington, the tight rhythm section of Ed King and Bob Burns, and the complementing keyboard flair of Billy Powell.

There are three songs in particular on this album that I want to highlight. Near the beginning is the seven-minute ballad "Tuesday's Gone", using the allegory of riding off a train away from a former love to speak about the band's changed trajectory after signing to MCA Records, sold with eloquence as the orchestral strings kick in. Ending side one is "Simple Man", the centerpiece of the record, about a mother passing valuable wisdom to her child, inspired by the passing of Ronnie's grandmother. It's a simple three-chord progression song, but man, does the writing and slow-burn soloing not elevate it to great heights. Finally, as I've alluded to earlier, this album ends with "Free Bird", a nine-minute ode to the desire for freedom that comes in many forms, culminating in an extended jam session with the band where Gary and Allen trade solos and a sense of euphoria rushes over me each time.

I know that Lynyrd Skynyrd tends to get a bad rap with the outside associations of this band to the Southern United States' misplaced affection for the long-dead confederacy and backwards-looking ideals, and the band's rebirth in the 90s with Ronnie's younger brother Johnny did nothing to ameliorate that. But the original Ronnie Van Zant run is timeless in its simple comfort, and their debut album exemplifies that best.

Hole is one of those bands that I've enjoyed select songs in the past, including "Violet", "Miss World", and "She Walks On Me" off this album. I know they often get overshadowed by frontwoman Courtney Love being Kurt Cobain's widow and her antics outside the group. Still, despite the outer drama, they're an enjoyable band. Case in point, Live Through This is a damn fine record.

This album oozes with attitude, from the punk rock guitar riffs, Patty Schemel's punching percussion, Kristen Pfaff's tight basslines, and Courtney Love's abrasive contralto voice. There's a sense of controlled chaos throughout the record, with the structured melodies that make these songs catchy. They do spend a few tracks balancing out the ferocity with more acoustic-driven ballads such as "Asking for It" and "Doll Parts", but even those moments come off as tense in the delivery.

Part of that tension also stems from the lyrical content, which at this point, I have to address the rumor. Someone on the r/1001AlbumsGenerator subreddit mentioned a rumor that Kurt Cobain ghostwrote most of this album. Here's the problem - I don't hear it, and this is me coming off of recently re-listening to Nevermind and In Utero for this album journey. From my perspective, Kurt wrote from a more diffuse and observational standpoint, aware of the situation they're in with the desire to escape amidst feelings of paranoia and anxiety. Courtney is more confrontational in her situations, addressing them head-on with vigor. From questioning herself in her newfound relationship with Kurt on "Doll Parts", to confronting past lover Billy Corgan on "Violet", to the media frenzy that swelled around her on "Miss World", to the birth and subsequent custody battle over her daughter on "Plump", to people who try and imitate her on "She Walks On Me", to the whole riot grrrl movement that she did not want to be associated with on "Rock Star". Courtney and lead guitarist Eric Erlandson penned the words on this album with pure volatility that cuts through like a knife.

I don't have much else to say, when Live Through This is an excellent showcase of a band fighting through public perceptions to make a bold statement that wastes no time getting to the punch.

For transparency, I only listened to disc one of this album, as disc two has the same tracklist as disc one, except sung entirely in French.

Rahim Redcar, the artist formerly known as Christine and the Queens, is someone I started hearing singles from this past year. They're a French singer-songwriter who started out playing piano at the age of four before expanding into classical dance and modern jazz, then found their identity in queercoded experimental pop music influenced by the likes of Michael Jackson and Kate Bush.

Make no mistake, this second album of theirs, Chris, is written with the intent of breaking gender norms and expanding one's understanding of sexuality. Whether it's the addressing of masculinity of "Girlfriend", calling out the domestic abusers on "The Walker", the one-sided nature that relationships can fall into on "Doesn't Matter", or the homage to the sex worker on "5 dollars", there's a fair amount of reflection on past trauma as Rahim searches for what truly pleases them in this life without prejudice.

Rahim passionately delivers these lyrics in their breathy lower register, blending French and English. This was done over the liquid production they achieved with co-producer Cole M.G.N., with the supple bass, light keyboard motifs, and drum machine that feel 80s-inspired in the arrangement. I mentioned Michael Jackson earlier as an influence, and it is apparent that Bad and Dangerous are close sonic comparisons. There are a few deviations, such as the spacious "What's-her-face" with the subtle pedal steel in the background, but for the most part, this album is locked into a certain throwback style. It's certainly a good fit for them, yet I can't help but feel there was a desire to take this to the next step, make the sound their own instead of staying indebted to the past. A song like "Feel so good" with the new jack swing rhythm and breaking glass sounding effect blares out what period its influence came from.

I still enjoyed Chris, as it is a good throwback-sounding record from an artist continually exploring and bending gender and societal norms in their music.

If you were going to pick an album from The Offspring for this list, it would probably be this one. Smash is the album that broke the band into the mainstream, propelled by the success of its singles, and helped usher in a resurgence of punk rock music in the wake of grunge.

If anything, Smash shares characteristics with Green Day's Dookie and Rancid's ...And Out Come the Wolves, which did well during this time. They're all enjoyable with guitar riffs aplenty, punching percussion, notable basslines, and the attitude and production that feels like opening a time capsule to what the skate culture was like in the mid-90s. Dexter Holland, Noodles, Greg. K and Ron Welty weren't looking to get that ambitious with this record, instead sticking to what they knew, as they weren't expecting the raging success they got. There are hints of a more melodic hardcore approach they might have taken, such as on "Genocide" and "It'll Be a Long Time", but overall, they stuck to their guns and made a fun record.

Though I'll freely admit, I'm getting tired of hearing "Self Esteem". Don't get me wrong; the guitar and bass lines on this track are iconic. But Dexter's passive-aggressive lyrics about being stuck in an abusive relationship just feel diffuse to me, which may be the point of the song, but does not mean I enjoy it. I'll take "Come Out and Play" and "Gotta Get Away" any day of the week.

What else can I say except Smash lived up to its title, which is again something not even the band expected. Props to them.

I've heard of Sufjan Stevens, but I haven't heard his music until now. He's a singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist who has worked in various genres, including electronica, indie-folk, and baroque pop. He's released multiple albums since his last semester at college, including starting the rather ambitious notion of writing an album for each of the fifty U.S. states. Though thus far, he's only made an album each for two states - Michigan and, in the case here, Illinois.

Lyrically, Illinoise draws from the imagery and iconography surrounding the state. From the UFO sighting in the town of Highland on the opening track, to the World's Fair expedition in "Come on! Feel the Illinoise!", to the state holiday of Casimir Pulaski Day in recognition of the Revolutionary War cavalry officer, to even Superman as the fictional town of Metropolis is based on Chicago. Even if I haven't been to Illinois yet, Sufjan gives a well-detailed look into the landscape and historical moments that resonated with him about the state, while also interweaving personal stories into the narrative, such as a memory of summer camp on "The Predatory Wasp of Palisades is Out to Get Us!" and especially on "Chicago" drawing on his time spent in the capital. I also can't help but notice the Christian undertones on tracks like "Casimir Pulaski Day" and "The Seer's Tower" that gesture towards a higher deity without being entrenched in biblical references.

In conjunction with the intricate detail of the lyrics, the instrumentation and backing choir add are well-ornamented without sounding overbearing for the listener. The horn pickup and chorus reprieve of "Chicago" to the sung-duet segueing into the choir with hand-claps on "Decatur, or, Round of Applause for your Stepmother!" to the juxtaposition of distorted and acoustic guitars with the choir and trumpet accompaniment on "The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts". There are a great deal of refined and layered arrangements centered about Sufjan's banjo playing and soft crooning, in a manner that reminded me of Nick Drake without the backing band being as busy as it was on Bryter Later.

If I had to nitpick, Illinoise is a rather long album, clocking in at 74 minutes with multiple less-than-a-minute interludes. Yet paradoxically, it also doesn't feel as long, as the variety of ideas and arrangements kept it engaging through the runtime, with new sonic details rewarded on subsequent listens. Not to mention, the interludes are meaningfully connected between pieces while having referential titles that further added to the iconography of the state.

I was not expecting to be genuinely impressed with such an elongated album about a state I haven't visited yet, but Sufjan Stevens did just that with Illinoise. I know he stopped focusing on the 50-state albums project from the looks of it, but it did result in this wonderful experience.

Let's get my one criticism with this album out of the way - the sequencing of these tracks feels deceptive. Of the 19 tracks that Cheap Trick played at each of their Budokan arena shows in 1978, only ten made it onto this release. It could be argued that these ten were chosen as the best tracks representative of those performances, and I'm not against such an argument. But then, they changed the track order around from what actually happened. The new song "Lookout" was placed before "Big Eyes" when it was the other way around. A similar case with placing "I Want You to Want Me" before "Surrender". The most egregious example of this trend was after playing the second iteration of "Hello There" known as "Goodnight" to close out the main set, frontman Robin Zander comes back out for the anticipated encore, saying, "This one, I'm sure you all know..." In the actual set, the band went into their cover of Fats Domino's "Ain't That a Shame", which made sense because that's a big song from a more well-known artist people would be familiar with. On the album, this went into "Clock Strikes Ten", as "Ain't That a Shame" got placed before "I Want You to Want Me". "Clock Strikes Ten" was their second encore song and the final song of the night, which is fine. But making Robin sound as if this was the track people should know feels wrong.

The band would later provide the full unaltered performance of their Budokan shows for the 30th anniversary version of this album, but that's not the version that made the books. Which is a shame, because this is still a fun romp. Everyone in the group gave their all in a high-octane performance that got the crowd screaming, especially the well-timed chanting in the second chorus of "I Want You to Want Me" before launching into Rick Nielsen's jaunty guitar soloing.

Not a dull moment could be found on Cheap Trick's At Budokan record, and its legacy as a live album that revitalized a band's career cannot be ignored. I may wish the people who arranged this album had stayed more true to the performance itself, but I can't deny I had a fun time with it.

I know I only got into the Beach Boys last year in tandem with getting Surf's Up and Pet Sounds in my album journey thus far. Of the members in that group, I have praised Brian Wilson for taking on the bulk of the songwriting, encouraging his bandmates to tackle more ambitious, progressive songs than the standard surf rock affair they were known for.

So naturally, the pressure was placed squarely on Brian for the follow-up to Pet Sounds. Brian worked closely with session musician Van Dyke Parks for what would have been the Beach Boys' twelfth studio album Smile, aiming for a more ambitious album that would have further rebuked against contemporary rock bands and the then-rampant British Invasion. Unfortunately, due to a combination of legal entanglements with their label Capitol Records, Parks' withdrawal from the project, and more importantly, Brian's deteriorating mental health, Smile was scrapped. It was just too much for him to handle, spurred on by all the drug use, personal drive for perfection, and the perceived competition he had with the Beatles, who were working on Sgt. Pepper during this time.

Songs written and recorded during the Smile sessions were repurposed for the Beach Boys' next album, Smiley Smile, and subsequent releases through the 1970s. Recordings from those sessions were bootlegged and shared around fans as they tried to piece together what the original Smile album would have been like. Brian himself would be haunted for decades by the abject failure of the unfinished album, reclusing himself from his bandmates and turning to drugs and alcohol on multiple occasions through the years. After a second intervention, Brian bounced back and pursued a successful solo career.

Then, in 1995, Brian reunited with Parks for a collaborative album, and afterward was invited to a concert performed by the Wondermints, a group led by keyboardist Darian Sahanaja who were fans of Brian Wilson's work with the Beach Boys. After impressing Brian, the Wondermints accepted an offer to join his live band, and they collectively enjoyed a few successful tours. After warming up to the idea, Brian and his new backing band performed a live set of the Smile album. Through working with Parks and Darian, Brian wrote, recorded, and completed a new album under the name Brian Wilson Presents Smile, a collection of the tracks from those original sessions reworked and organized into three separate movements.

That was a lot of exposition before even talking about the album. Getting Smile done in some fashion had to have been cathartic for Brian after it hung over his head for all those years. In a sense, I'm glad this album exists to free a man from the mental shackles he carried all that time. I just wish the album itself clicked more for me.

Don't get me wrong; this album is good. A lot of care was taken during the recording process to make these albums sound like they would have in the 1960s, as Brian, his backing band, and the accompanying strings and horns section played effortlessly through this curated work. Some excellent songs got translated well here, including "Heroes and Villains", "Cabin Essence", "Surf's Up", "In Blue Hawaii", and of course "Good Vibrations".

My frustrations stem from how this album comes across as a hodgepodge of good ideas stitched together under the loose concept of American history and iconography without a cohesive narrative. From the recolonization of America on "Roll Plymouth Rock" into the animal noises that accompany "Barnyard" and the short medley of "Old Master Painter" and "You Are My Sunshine" in movement one, the medley of "I'm in Great Shape/I Wanna Be Around/Workshop" that leads to the tongue-in-cheek "Vega-Tables" to start movement three, and the complete insanity that is "Mrs. O'Leary's Cow", there are so many ideas that tonally clash at each other even as Brian and Darian tried sequencing each track into the next. The closest semblance of a thematic tie is movement two, where the sequence from "Wonderful" to "Child Is the Father of Man" works in the shared contemplations of spirituality and childhood, followed by the still-excellent "Surf's Up" about one's spiritual awakening.

At the end of the day, I'm glad that Smile is out there in some form as the much-overdue unburdening Brian needed. It is important that the artist themselves enjoy the art they put out in the world. If Brian himself enjoys it, then I respect that, even if I don't fully connect with it.

Literally, within the week before I see AC/DC perform live for the third time in my life, I get one of their landmark albums. That statement alone gives away my bias towards this band. My Dad raised my brother and me on listening to them as one of the first rock groups we were exposed to. As such, there's a communal bond shared in listening to and enjoying AC/DC, even going as far as learning to play their songs on drums and guitar.

Naturally, it was a treat coming back to Back in Black, which itself is a triumph for the band. This was their second chance at their career after their original frontman, Bon Scott, died by misadventure. It's a daunting task for any band to replace their original singer, as they're the first person people usually identify with the band. Thankfully, AC/DC found a suitable replacement in Brian Johnson, who brought his belting pipes and charisma to their hard rock formula. Sure, Brian doesn't have the same wild tenacity as Bon Scott, but he was never meant to be an exact replacement. Rather, his unique performing style suited the band's music well.

That takes us to the actual music, which thankfully worked out with Brian and the Young brothers penning out the kind of energetic, hard-hitting riffs, lyrics, and solos expected from this group. The fact that I can't help but sing along to every song on this album, including deep cuts like "Shake a Leg" and "Have a Drink on Me", is a testament to their sonic magic. With every band member playing excellently in their respective role, paired with Mutt Lange's powerhouse production, they fired on all cylinders and delivered an amazing collection of bangers.

Not much else needs to be said here. Not only was Back in Black a fitting tribute to their fallen brother, but it was a glorious rebirth of AC/DC as the hard rock veterans they are. While there have been diminishing returns for their output as the years went by, this album continues to maintain its relevancy, and that satisfies the fan in me.

I’m surprised it only took me a little over twenty albums to get the next Nirvana album. But here we are.

In my review of Nevermind, I mentioned I didn't have much to add to the larger conversation around that album. After all, it is the one that broke the band into the mainstream, popularizing grunge and alternative rock music. The attention the band got was overwhelming, to the point of irking Kurt Cobain as he was thrust onto a high pedestal.

Thus, for their next album, the band opted for a more visceral sound and songwriting approach to lash out and find catharsis in the discomfort. It's why Steve Albini was brought on for the production, to allow the noise to come out raw and unpolished. The door is kicked down with the abrasive guitar lines, punching rhythm section, and Kurt's strained vocals on "Serve the Servants", and this attitude pervades through the rest of In Utero.

They hadn't stopped incorporating strong guitar hooks, such as on "Heart Shaped Box" and "Radio Friendly Unit Shifter". They also didn't stop taking risks that paid off on this record. From Dave Grohl writing the guitar line for "Scentless Apprentice", to the use of a cello from session musician Kera Schaley on "Dumb" and "All Apologies", to the quiet-loud-quiet progression that builds to out-right screaming on "Rape Me", to the sliding guitar lines over the reverbed kick drums on "Very Ape", there's a fair amount of experimentation throughout the runtime that made these songs stand out well.

Given there was no desire to surpass what they did on Nevermind, Nirvana opted for the road untraveled. As such, In Utero is a different-sounding album that I enjoy just as much. While we would never hear what their next sound could have been after Kurt took his life, it is remarkable what we got.

I'll admit, this album took me a bit to find. I had to check YouTube, and I also had to steer clear of the similarly named album This is Fats, which has a completely different track listing.

With that out of the way, Fats Domino is someone I heard of before from one of his first hits, "Ain't That a Shame". While Fats considered himself an R&B musician, his contributions helped shape rock and roll music such that even Elvis Presley and the Beatles were influenced by him.

As for his third album, This is Fats Domino! is a solid collection of old-school tunes carried by Fats' belting delivery and excellent piano playing. The rhythm section swung and swayed as needed, and the saxophone players added an extra layer of pizzazz. From the opening ballad rendition of Sammy Kaye's "Blueberry Hill" to the high-energy closer "Trust in Me" and hits like "Blue Monday" and "Poor, Poor Me", Fats and Dave Bartholomew wrote and compiled a good, jaunty variety of songs.

Sure, this album may not be super exciting in the modern age with its simplistic song structures. But it made for an entertaining listen all the way through, and I'd say that's commendable for the legend that was Fats Domino.

Given I got New Order early on in my journey, it was a matter of time before I got the band they were before, Joy Division. Sadly, though, the first of their two albums I got is a rather difficult album to discuss.

Closer is the last album from Joy Division, released two months after frontman Ian Curtis took his own life at the way-too-young age of 23. That fact alone looms over this album, from the artwork taken from a photograph of a family tomb, to Ian's lyrics that thematically draw from experiences of isolation, loss, anxiety, dread for what may come, and confrontation with one's religious viewpoints. It's well-apparent that Ian was disturbed at this point, probably due to several factors in his life, such as his epilepsy, the dissolution of his marriage after being caught in an affair, and overall deteriorating health. That he could still pull off a commanding baritone narration throughout these tracks amidst the chaos he went through is remarkable.

I don't want to imply Closer is a terrible album; far from it. Between Ian's delivery, Peter Hook's supple basslines, Bernard Sumner's spacious guitar hooks, Stephen Morris's punching drums, and the well-reverbed production, these songs bounce in their melancholic state. Even in some of their stranger experiments, such as the screeching guitars over tribal drums on opener "Atrocity Exhibition" or the atmospheric crawl of "The Eternal", this album can be sonically gorgeous. It's just hard not to feel consumed by how bleak this album can get at times.

I will say that Closer is a worthy inclusion on this list, alongside Joy Division's first album, which I will eventually get. I'd recommend going into this album not already depressed, because this album will not make your mood any brighter.

For those who don't know, Ananda Shankar was an Indian sitar player and the nephew of classical musician Ravi Shankar. If that name sounds familiar, it's because his uncle introduced George Harrison, and by extension the larger Western world, to Indian instruments for use in popular music. As a result, bands like the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and the Yardbirds all combined elements of raga into their rock music throughout the 1960s. Unfortunately, it got to a point where the market became saturated with more formulaic stabs at this combination, and thus interest declined in the raga rock phenomenon.

That's where Ananda comes into the picture. After playing with contemporary musicians like Jimi Hendrix in Los Angeles, he traveled back to India to bring Western rock music back to his country for a change. Using sitar, Moog synthesizer, and more standard rock percussion, Ananda created a sound indebted to his country's musical roots while paving his path forward.

There are some truly transcendental pieces to be found on his self-titled debut. From the gentle descent of "Snow Flower", the bossa-nova sway of "Mamata (Affection)", the crescendoing progressive rocker "Metamorphosis" that ramped up tempo throughout the track, the 13-minute serenity with the wind blowing in the background of "Sagar (The Ocean)", and the tabla-driven mystique of "Dance Indra", there was excellent sitar and synth play in these compositions. The album ends on a pleasant call-and-response in "Raguhupati", praising a higher deity regardless of the name we use to identify.

There is an issue I have with this album, and you might have noticed it towards the beginning. There are two sitar-driven covers of popular rock songs, in this case the Rolling Stones' "Jumpin' Jack Flash" and the Doors' "Light My Fire". These covers were done as a compromise, to ensure that this album could still be marketed to a Western audience with songs loaded in the front that they were already familiar with. Even if it sounded like they tried for more bombast with "Jumpin' Jack Flash", these covers cheapen the overall product. There was an opportunity to push the existing style on this record into more innovative territory.

As it stands, though, Ananda Shankar's debut is still a promising album that opened up doors for more world music fusion. Other acts will follow and combine other countries' musical elements into their own, which I'm sure is a fitting legacy for Ananda to have.

I will not include "Gary Gilmore's Eyes" and "New Day Dawns" in this review, as they were bonus tracks added in subsequent reissues of this album. I'm also not including the live tracks and radio edits tacked on at the end.

I listened to The Adverts from their single "Gary Gilmore's Eyes" earlier this year. They were a short-lived UK punk group founded by frontman T.V. Smith and bassist Gaye Advert. They were one of the first to achieve mainstream success, and Gaye was one of the first female punk stars. I'd say on the historical significance, they're worth a mention on this list.

As for their debut album itself, Crossing the Red Sea is an enjoyable, frenetic affair where the whole band played with tenacity for these youthful rebellion anthems. From tackling blind faith on "New Faith" to staying defiant with certainty on "Bombsite Boy" and control of thought on "Great British Mistake", T.V. Smith snarled with such conviction as Howard Pickup laid down fast guitar hooks and Gaye and Laurie Driver matched with their tight rhythm section. Probably my favorite song was "No Time to Be 21" with the most prominent guitar lines, as the lyrics embodied pure defiance of societal norms.

I know there are plenty of UK punk acts that this list pulls from, so it may be hard to justify another one of them for inclusion. Also, I probably would have appreciated more visceral detail and varied subject matter, as most of this album can be boiled down to general angst against perceived authoritative figures. But as one of the first genuine punk albums from the country that broke out in a short time with an album this good, I'd say they're worth digging up.