Reviews by abrisskull

This is my final 70s Bowie album on this journey, and it feels like a homecoming to me. I first listened to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust three years ago and enjoyed it then. Now, after listening to more albums from this era of Bowie's career, I better understand what came before and after. In this case, Ziggy Stardust the album follows the success of Hunky Dory, when David Bowie found his songwriting identity and sought to write more songs for live performances, inspired by the diverse musical scenes of America.

In conjunction with this writing, Bowie created a new persona for himself - the alien rock star Ziggy Stardust, sent to Earth to save the people from an apocalyptic disaster with his music. As he wins over the hearts of many fans, he succumbs to his ego, taking a literal fall from grace and dying on stage in a glorious display. It's a rather loose concept but executed such that the album can be enjoyed regardless of how vested one is in the story.

That's because David Bowie focused first on the songwriting to make these tunes anthemic, with catchy guitar hooks and choruses that are fun to sing along to and revel in. "Ziggy Stardust", "Moonage Daydream", "Suffragette City", "Starman", even lesser cuts like "Star", "Hang On to Yourself" and the closer "Rock 'n' Roll Suicide" were written with such a poetic elegance yet maintaining the high-level rocking energy that helped define what glam rock was.

There's a reason that Ziggy Stardust the album continues to be praised as a classic in Bowie's catalog. The man would continue to experiment and find further success. But for the first time in his career, David Bowie found himself in the center of the cultural zeitgeist, a rather ideal place for a starman.

Alright, this album had me conflicted. After hearing Todd Rundgren's production work on XTC's Skylarking and Meat Loaf's Bat Out of Hell over the past week and a half, it felt right that I should check out his solo work. After all, I did hear two of the singles before, "I Saw the Light" and "Hello It's Me," and thoroughly enjoyed them, so I figured I would appreciate the rest of what Something/Anything? offered.

Then I saw that this was a double album spanning over 90 minutes, and that worried me. I hadn't felt this daunted by such a long release from an oft-considered excellent musical genius since getting Stevie Wonder's Songs in the Key of Life as album #13 on my journey. But as I was listening through, it dawned on me - this album kept interesting throughout the whole runtime.

There was no doubt about side one with the ear-catching melodies being enjoyable as Todd took influence from R&B and soul into popping compositions. But then side two opens with "Intro" where Todd gives the listener a playful and immersive explanation of improper handling of studio mixing, followed by the eclectic instrumental "Breathless". The pairing of the tracks alongside the rest of side two's experimental goodness made me realize how much of a music nerd Todd is. There's later studio banter added as well and the inclusion of live recordings of some of Todd's favorite songs on "Overture - My Roots" gives enough insight into the man's thinking as if I were sitting with him in the studio. That's a feeling I've rarely gotten on a record, certainly not to the degree of mastery this guy had. By the time I got to the end with "You Left Me Sore" and "Slut", I couldn't believe the time flew by.

If you feel the need to break up your listening to this album, I completely understand. It's structured into four unique sides for a reason, back when people had to flip over vinyl onto a turntable. But there was something about Something/Anything? that was magical in how effective and endearing of a person Todd Rundgren can be.

After disbanding his previous band, The Jam, singer-songwriter Paul Weller formed a new group with keyboardist Mick Talbot called The Style Council. It was a short-lived outfit that allowed Paul to branch out and explore different artistic avenues, and after a mini-LP, Café Bleu was the debut that would set the tone. What did we find in the café?

Well, I found this to be a sophisti-pop album where the synthesizers largely took a back seat in favor of more jazz and soul influences. On side one, there is a degree of well-detailed compositions and warm production where Paul thrived in the ambiance. Tracks like "Mick's Blessings" and "Blue Café" were exquisite pieces with soft glossy guitars, keyboards, and ensemble arrangements. Not to mention, they made effective use of guest appearances such as Everything But the Girl coming in on "Strike the Match" and the horns adding to the tropical bounce of "Me Ship Came In!"

But then came the start of side two with "A Gospel", where between the clunky rapping of Brian Beaton and the blocky percussion, I was snapped back to reality and reminded this album came out in the early 1980s. This was followed by the synthesizer blare of "Strength of Your Nature", and I was even less enthused with how dated the second half became. "You're the Best Thing" was a decent enough song to course-correct, but at that point the damage was done. I get that Paul was trying various styles with this group, but not every sound has aged well in hindsight.

Suffice it to say, Café Bleu was an intriguing case of a man trying his best to break away from the creative limitations of his last group. While the result is far from perfect, it is admirable.

Full disclosure: Meat Loaf is another artist I did not get into until after his death. He was not on my radar, though that changed today with his debut Bat Out of Hell. Better late than never, and boy that sentiment rings true as this album kicks ass.

Aided by Jim Steinman's creative songwriting and Todd Rundgren's production chops, Bat Out of Hell is a glorious and campy-as-hell union of rock and roll and opera, taking influence from Richard Wagner and Phil Spector's Wall of Sound style. It takes the suburban teenage angst of acts like Bruce Springsteen and amps it up to 11, as Meat Loaf proved to be the kind of voice to sing and belt passionately about anything. Even the anti-love relationship described in "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad" is delivered intensely. Of course, there are other fun moments sprinkled throughout the runtime, such as the opening saxophone play into "All Revved Up With No Place to Go", the handclap break in the bonafide rocker "You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth", the pleasant piano ballad "Heaven Can Wait", and over-8-minute epics that include the title track, "Paradise by the Dashboard Light", and "For Crying Out Loud".

Bat Out of Hell is one of those fun, cheesy albums that I can spin and put a smile on my face. Not too shabby.

I remember this album from Dolly Parton and its title track which I learned about from an American music course in college. It's a sweet song about accepting the best that one can accomplish with what they have, as Dolly wore that coat of rags her mother made for her. It's a nice sentimental song with a story to it, which is pretty much how the rest of the album is.

Coat of Many Colors is a decent slice of country music where the warm textures provided by Dolly's voice and the session musicians are paired with lyrics of whimsy coming from an earnest place. She sang from the heart about relationships lived in such as in "If I Lose My Mind" and "She Never Met a Man (She Didn't Like)", and with wide eyes about the larger world in front of her such as in "The Mystery of the Mystery" and "Early Morning Breeze". There's nothing too exciting or profound to be had here, and sometimes that's just enough for an album to satisfy.

I didn't expect to give such high praise to an album so simple on the surface, but Coat of Many Colors shines in that exception.

Alright, this is the second of two Curtis Mayfield albums I've gotten on my journey after There's No Place Like America Today. This one is the soundtrack to the blaxploitation film Super Fly, of which I've heard the title track before but have not seen the movie yet. I'm approaching this release like I did with Issac Hayes's soundtrack for Shaft, in that I am determining if the music can hold on its own without the need for any visual media attached to it. In that regard, does Super Fly's soundtrack stand well?

The answer to that question is a resounding yes. Not only is this album instrumentally firing on all cylinders with Curtis's knack for writing progressive funk jams, but lyrically he takes the time to paint the scene for what life was like for black people in 1970s America that sadly still rings true today. Living out in the slums, financially struggling, with little consideration or help from those in political power. It sounds like the kind of environment that preys on innocent souls, and what more potent bait than the allure of drugs - heroin, weed, cocaine.

The Pusherman becomes a big player, and Curtis does not romanticize this living. From the death of the lackey dealer on "Freddie's Dead", the twisting nature of greed on "Eddie You Should Know Better", and the desperation for escapism that's found through lust and drugs on "Give Me Your Love (Love Song)" and "No Thing On Me (Cocaine Song)", all culminating in the title track where the titular Super Fly here is someone who looks to be better than the environment he was raised in. Even if I don't know who Eddie and Freddie are or the Super Fly, Curtis portrayed them as archetypes that people can identify and relate to. In that sense, you probably don't need the movie to get the messaging across.

All's to say that Super Fly the soundtrack goes incredibly hard, and does not require watching a movie to truly appreciate it.

I had heard of The Youngbloods from one song before, and it was their only chart-topping hit "Get Together", a Chet Baker cover. Needless to say, I had almost no expectations going into this album of theirs, and I ended up being neatly surprised.

Elephant Mountain was a nice blend of folk, country rock, and psychedelia. There were a fair amount of decent guitar licks from Lowell Levinger, starting right out of the gate from "Darkness, Darkness" and "Smug" as bonafide rockers. Alongside him was a well-kept rhythm section and Jesse Colin Young's emphatic vocals as he sang with some visual imagery on relationships and life lived. Songs like "Darkness, Darkness", "Sunlight", and "Ride the Wind" work immaculate vibes, aided by solid production from Mr. "Devil Went Down to Georgia" himself, Charlie Daniels.

Honestly, my only complaint is that some of the instrumentals on this album don't offer much meaningful impact. Three are short interludes that don't last a minute and could have been reworked into one pleasant jam. Another is "On Sir Francis Drake" which peters off into the second half and doesn't give that final lasting impression that I would have yearned for in a longer instrumental.

As it is, Elephant Mountain is a solid and at times pleasant outing from a group that I only knew of one hit prior.

This review will not include the "Dear God" bonus track from the 2001 remaster.

I've heard a few songs here and there from XTC, a group that has undergone some drastic stylistic changes over the years. These guys started as a new wave band and embraced more psychedelic pop by the end of the 1980s. We get a good sampling of that latter psychedelia on their ninth album Skylarking.

This album oozes with inspiration from the more experimental late 60s music such as what the Beatles, the Beach Boys, and Pink Floyd were doing. Orchestral players were brought in to add a lively swell to the group's songs, such as the string arrangements that comprise the somber tone of "1000 Umbrellas", the mix of violin and guitar on "Grass", and the Beach Boys pastiche of "Season Cycle". Aiding that sentiment is the more free-form styled songwriting from Andy Patridge that captured a more emotionally resonant vibe, and Todd Rundgren's production chops which added the necessary warmth to these songs even as he was battling with Andy behind the scenes.

My main problem with Skylarking is how wildly inconsistent in style and tone this album can get in trying to recapture the essence of what worked well for the psychedelic pop music of the late 1960s. Andy and his mates tried various arrangements and compositions without much to tie it all together thematically. This observation is especially noticeable at the start of the second half with the more standard power pop tune "Earn Enough for Us", the jazzy "Mermaid Smiled", and the beatnik "The Man Who Sailed Around His Soul". Some of these songs sound great on their own, but they lack cohesion when put together.

All's to say that Skylarking is a solid compilation of songs that wears its influence on its sleeve, and made for a reasonably decent listen with that mindset.

I know I've heard of Tori Amos as a singer-songwriter before. This past year, I heard "Cornflake Girl" from her second album, and I feel like I've listened to "Crucify" on FM radio somewhere. This will be my first full listen to an album of hers, where this was her breakout solo album after the dissolution of her synth-pop group Y Kant Tori Read. I can comfortably say Little Earthquakes is a remarkable record.

My first thought from my listen was Kate Bush, having heard Hounds of Love earlier on this journey. Tori's mezzo-soprano was just as elegant and whimsical as Kate's voice, and her piano-driven compositions are on par with the latter's work. Sure, it's not full-blown synth pomp like Hounds of Love was in places, but the overall quiet storm sound suits Tori well for these songs that demand deeper reflection. Whether it's the struggle to overcome self-hatred on "Crucify", the desire for self-expression on "Silent All These Years", the sexual awakening amidst a Christian upbringing on "Precious Things", the meditation on death on "Happy Phantom", the lost love of "China", or the personal account of a time when Tori was raped on "Me and a Gun", these songs evoke the listener to think critically about her words, and the music behind her strikingly fits the tone of the subject matter.

This was an exceptional debut from an artist who proved she had a voice for this world, and I am glad to have enjoyed it.

This will have been the third Pixies album I've ever listened to, after getting Bossnova the same week they released their most recent album The Night the Zombies Came. Both were alright, I want to revisit Bossanova sooner than the latter because something tells me this group peaked before their breakup in the mid-90s. Adding to that sentiment is how chaotically good Doolittle turned out to be.

From the get-go with "Debaser", we are thrust into their rich blend of surf and punk rock, complete with Francis Black's unhinged hollering and Kim Deal's softer but still potent vocals. They maintained this wild energy through the runtime, where everyone does an excellent job at catchy guitar riffs, tight rhythm sections, and vocal deliveries that masterfully ebb from quiet to loud. It also helps that Gil Norton cleaned up the overall sound superbly, using compression, reverb and delay on the guitars, and multi-layered tracking to give the Pixies a polished presentation.

Lyrically, Doolittle tip-toes the line between insane and wise. For every off-the-rails track where you don't mind the free-flowing words or bizarre imagery like "Debaser" and "Crackity Jones", there is a song that has a profound meaning behind the chaos. Whether it's the murder-suicide story of "Wave of Mutilation", or the biblical touchstones presented in "Monkey Gone to Heaven" and "Gouge Away", Francis drew a lot of inspiration from his own experiences to make such wonderful songs. Plus, they had some room to neatly fit in a few tunes that took the piss on music the band grew up with, such as the 1950s crooner "La La Love You" and the spaghetti western vibes of "Silver".

Doolittle was such a fun album to listen to, as I can see why it's continued to get praise over the years. I'm glad we got this one out of the Pixies.

I will only focus on the eight tracks of the original release for this review.

This looks to be another one of those world-view-enriching experiences for the list. In this case, Djam Leelii is the first collaborative album between Baaba Maal and Mansour Seck, two Senegal-based singer-songwriters and guitarists. These two studied the musical traditions of the West African regions of Mauritania and Mali, and the two formed a band known as Dande Lenol which translates to "The People's Voice", and would play for the Senegalese immigrant communities of Paris. Their hard work bore fruit in the form of this album with its title translating to "The Adventurers".

Sonically, this is a delightful indulgence of two men with their acoustic guitars singing wonderfully. Baaba and Mansour showed such wonderful chemistry for each other, aided by the light percussion from Papa Dieye, and the incorporation of more common Malian ensemble instruments such as the kora which is a lute-harp, and the balafon which is a slat xylophone with small gourd resonators. One of the best examples of this unison of instruments is on "Muudo Hormo" where the balafon acts as a sonic anchor for the group to follow suit in a melodic sway.

As much as I enjoy Djam Leeli from a pure audible standpoint, it is unfortunate that there have been no posted lyrics for this album. Baaba Maal primarily wrote the lyrics in the native Palaar language, and it would be nice to translate them and have some insight into what they wrote about outside of speculation.

Even without the context behind these songs, Djam Leelii is still a pleasant listen and worth the inclusion on this list.

It's been over a hundred albums since I heard The xx's debut. In real-time since that debut for the group, second guitarist and keyboardist Brian Quareshi left the group, they put out a second album Coexist, they contributed a song to the film soundtrack for The Great Gatsby, first guitarist and vocalist Romy Madley Croft took a songwriting course, and producer Jamie xx put out a solo album In Colours. Those last two points are important for developing their third album I See You, as they looked to open and expand their sound. Boy, they delivered that notion in spades.

I See You is the natural evolution of The xx's sound to incorporate more alternative dance, and I am here for it. Due in part to Jamie's solo work, the production quality has significantly expanded and there are more samples they're able to incorporate such as the use of Hall & Oates's vocals on the chorus of "On Hold" or the homage to Sade's "The Sweetest Taboo" on "Say Something Loving". Jamie's production becomes the big noticeable factor in this album where he and co-producer Rodaidh McDonald aimed for a more aggressive sound. From the get-go with "Dangerous", there are ominous shrill blasts of synth horns opening a roiling bass groove against the scratchy percussion, leading into the guitars and spurts of jagged synth on "Lips", the use of negative space as musical punctuation on the hook of "A Violent Noise", as well as the elegant strings against the guitars that crescendo on "Brave for You". There's the overall feeling of being at a late-night after-party where the vibes are going but the subtle details seep in and enrich the moment.

While the production has been vamped up, the core of The xx's sound is still there with Romy's liquid but defined guitar lines and Oliver's prominent bass, and their vocal chemistry and interplay have greatly improved over the years. I still consider Romy an overall better singer, but Oliver has become more expressive, particularly on songs like "Replica" where he captures the balance of tension and yearning.

That takes us to the lyrical content, where in tandem with the expanded sound, I See You is The xx's party record. It's the desire to venture out into the night and find some means of escape, a notion that is populist and well-framed enough to acknowledge the members' own lingering weaknesses and insecurities as they go out to try anything. Romy's hesitant bravery and desperation alongside Oliver's own carefully contained fears and apathy work wonderfully across the board. It's why they would seek the danger in each other on the opening track "Dangerous", why they'd second guess every step in their connection on "Say Something Loving", and why they would share in the disenchantment on "A Violent Noise". It all culminates in the climax of "On Hold", where the relationship falters as Romy moves on after being held at a distance, and Oliver is confused as he is late to realize what they could've had. That's where "I Dare You" and "Test Me" work effectively as closers in capturing the essence of the album title - these two clearly see each other and can almost feel each other's desire, it's just a matter of taking the dare, the risk to genuinely embrace even if there's a chance that it all falls apart.

In fact, "Test Me" draws an even deeper parallel for The xx as a band and its members, with the choices in greater experimentation that could risk who they were, to venture into more dangerous territory and more violent noises. I get the notion of "dangerous" for this record might sound eye-rolling for some people, but this is an album about modern relationships for those introverted, a notion that I can relate to as I am trying to push myself out in the world and find that special someone out of the fear of loneliness.

In a way, I've found a lot of pathos with I See You as a record. I'll be taking the songs and lessons from this album to heart.

I will not include the bonus tracks from the 2003 remastered version for this review.

I've heard of Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark in passing this past year, from a few of their singles like "If You Leave" playing on throwback FM radio stations. They became known as one of the pioneers of the synth-pop genre, blending electronic music with more experimental pop sensibilities. That early synth-pop style is exemplified well in Architecture & Morality.

Songs on this album tend to take on a more futurist tone as the duo synthesizer work of Paul Humphreys and Andy McCluskey alongside Malcolm Holmes's electronic percussion made for a forward-thinking and innovative sound for 1981. It helps that these tunes are very melodic in their composition, anchored by Paul's soothing vocals. Tracks like "She's Leaving", "Souvenir", and the two different "Joan of Arc" songs are well-executed jams, while they also tackled more atmospheric pieces such as the title track and "Sealand".

In the grand scheme of synth-pop and where the genre has gone over the decades, this album does sound a bit rudimentary. I wouldn't call this the absolute best among them. Rather, I consider Architecture & Morality a good introductory album to synth-pop and what the genre can accomplish. I'd say that's reason enough to give it a solid recommendation.

This is my second Radiohead album on this journey after The Bends. Amnesiac contains tracks recorded during the same sessions as their prior landmark album Kid A. However, it is a misnomer to call this album "Kid A B-sides"; rather, there were two different mindsets during those recording sessions - the extremely manufactured electronic music that we got on Kid A, and the more band-oriented arrangements akin to their earlier work that we got here.

That's not to say there aren't a few electronic experiments on Amnesiac such as using tape loops and auto-tuning on tracks like "Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box" or "Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors". But more often than not, where this album shines is with the incorporation of warm, organic instruments such as the haunting piano line on "Pyramid Song", the jaunty guitar hooks on "I Might Be Wrong" and "Knives Out", and the orchestral swell on "Dollars and Cents".

Yet, a part of me isn't overly wowed by this album because of the band's focus here on atmosphere more than melody. I can certainly remember the aforementioned instrumental highlights. But the rest tends to blend into this jazz and krautrock mixture that is pleasant to listen to at the moment but doesn't retain well in memory long after, most notably with the two-minute instrumental "Hunting Bears" that went in one ear and out the other for me. This notion comes after I listened to The Bends and found more distinct and memorable hooks on that project.

Even if I can't call Amnesiac one of Radiohead's best albums, it is still an intriguing side-adventure that they were able to squeeze out, and is worth exploring if you're curious.

Alright, this is my sixth David Bowie album on my journey, and the second one to break chronological order after Aladdin Sane broke the run of Young Americans through Low, followed by "Heroes". I am well familiar with the singles from Hunky Dory and a few cuts such as "Queen Bitch" and "Oh! You Pretty Things" that are undeniable bangers to me. How does the rest of the album stack up?

This was Bowie's best album to date. Taking a more piano-focused songwriting approach, he crafted warmer rock tunes that placed more emphasis on melody. I've already mentioned the above tracks as good examples of this approach. I'll add to that notion the sporadic piano with spare guitar licks on "Eight Line Poem", the delightful "Kooks" that's a heartfelt dedication to Bowie's son Duncan, the spiritualistic nature of "Quicksand" that sounded like a stylistic precursor to Low, the swing and horn accompaniment of "Fill Your Heart", the more esoteric tributes to Andy Warhol and Bob Dylan on their respectively named songs, and the even more cryptic closer "The Bewlay Brothers" with the backmasked guitar solo and delectable guitar hooks as the end descends into a controlled madness with the chants of "Please come away". Even when these songs get bonkers in the lyrics, the hooks are there to sink you in deeper.

Even if I can acknowledge that David Bowie would continue to experiment and improve his songwriting chops, knowing full well how much I loved Station to Station, I cannot deny Hunky Dory was an excellent cornerstone that showcased the man finding his style.

Here is the self-titled debut album for G. Love and Special Sauce, a group known for its laid-back fusion of blues, hip-hop, rock, and soul. These guys seemed like they achieved their dream of working the Massachusetts clubs and bars to the point where they got a record deal and found success. Decades later though, I can't help but feel like this still has the problems typical with a debut.

For sure, I had fun with a fair amount of these tracks, but my enjoyment was primarily from track five "Baby's Got Sauce" through track eleven "Shooting Hoops" when the tempo is faster and frontman Garrett Dutton aka G. Love has to rap at the same speed. It's not that these guys don't play well on their instruments, but the lyrical content is more in focus when the compositions are slow and loose.

This brings me to the feeling that G. Love thinks he's cooler and smarter than how he raps, whether it's the name check of notable blues musicians on "Blues Music", the blasé attempts at wooing a girl on "Garbage Man", or the basic observations made on "Some Peoples Like That". These lyrics read more like first drafts. Even when it's more energetic, they can bring someone else in like Jasper in the second verse of "This Ain't Living" and the guy will have a more commanding flow than G. Love does on his own song.

Also throughout my listen to this album, I couldn't help but be reminded of another laid-back 90s rap-rock group with a similar cadence - Sublime. The fact that these guys made it onto the list and not Sublime is a strikingly odd choice, given the latter group's lasting longevity in popular culture stemming from their more vibrant incorporations of ska and reggae. I could tune to an FM classic rock radio station and have a better chance of hearing "Santeria", "Wrong Way" or "What I Got" than I would for "Baby's Got Sauce" or "Cold Beverage" even if they're good singles.

Again, this is a debut album from a group that showed potential, and I'm sure they've refined their rap/blues fusion over the following decades. But as far as a "list of albums to listen to before you die" goes, I would have chosen a different one.

Alright, we got another album that I had to search YouTube for - the eponymous debut album from Throwing Muses, which is not to be confused with their eighth studio album that also bears their name. Now, I hadn't heard of Throwing Muses before. From what I read they seem cool as an early alternative rock act out of Newport, Rhode Island, characterized by the two frontwomen Kristin Hersh and Tanya Donelly with their stark writing and vocal harmonies, aided by David Narcizo's percussion that deliberately avoids the use of cymbals. A lot of their strengths were showcased on this debut album.

From the get-go with "Call Me", the group had a knack for writing out delectable guitar hooks and punching beats, paired with Kristin and Tanya's impassioned singing. It helps that this album was well-produced by Gil Norton, who already had Echo & the Bunnymen's Ocean Rain under his belt. The instruments and vocals are all layered neatly in the mix so that no single element ever feels dominating. My favorite track sonically here is the Western rollick of "Rabbits Dying" with the synthesized horns blaring in the background and the incorporation of cowbell, followed by the gallop of "America (She Can't Say No)".

As for the lyrics, Kirstin uses a lot of esoteric imagery to get transgressive and voice her emotional anguish and despair with what's going on in her world. Songs like "Hate My Way" and "Fear" come off as visceral when you follow along with her words. In that regard, the album can be a difficult listen if you're not closely following the narrative of these songs, alongside how abrasive the vocals can get in places.

This is still an impressive debut for an early alternative rock act. It's an impressive find, even if the search for the album was a tad difficult.

For this review, I listened to the mostly English version of this album referred to as Tank Battles, as opposed to the full German version called Panzerschlacht.

Alright, we have another difficult album to unpack on your hands. Strap yourselves in.

Dagmar Krause is a German singer best known for her work in various art-rock groups like Slapp Happy, Henry Cow, and Art Bears. Alongside that venture, she had a fascination for cabaret music that came out of the Weimar era, a period of post-World War I Germany where the country suffered economic hardship and the rise of political extremism up to the point where fascism took over. In particular, Dagmar admired the works of playwright Bertolt Brecht and his musical collaborators Kurt Weill and Hanns Eisler. This interest was piqued to the point where she recorded two solo albums covering the compositions of Weill and Eisler. Tank Battles is the latter of those solo efforts, focused primarily on the works of Eisler.

I will admit, cabaret music is not my forte here, where I can appreciate the elegance on display even if this is not what I normally seek out. It's apparent from the translated lyrics when this music was written, likely done in response to the political turmoil that Germany went through at the time. I can appreciate this perspective brought into the limelight when Germany was going through another tumultuous time with the separation of East and West by the Berlin Wall, and updated with newer instruments such as electric guitar. Also, I can tell this comes from a place of passion as Dagmar did her best to sell the emotion in her husky alto range that suits this music.

Even if I can't fully connect to this music, and if I feel that Tank Battles is rather long, I don't regret listening to it. Instead, I can appreciate the historical significance preserved for the next generation from such a potent voice.

After hearing R.E.M.'s sonic and lyrical evolution from Document to Green, and skipping over Out of Time, we reached what can be considered the proverbial top of the band's catalog.

Originally intended to be an album full of fast hard rockers, the band instead wrote and recorded a collection of mostly acoustic-driven ballads save for a few rockers. This intimate sound is further amplified by more orchestral compositions such as the use of string arrangements from Led Zeppelin's bassist John Paul Jones on songs like the opener "Drive" and "Everybody Hurts", and the cello from Knox Chandler on "Sweetness Follows" and "Monty Got a Raw Deal". The result is some of the most organically pleasant songs I've heard from this band thus far. That's not to say I didn't enjoy the regular rock tracks "The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite", "Ignoreland" and certainly "Man on the Moon", but the ballads elevated this album and made it stand out compared to their prior work.

Aiding with the serene nature of Automatic for the People are Michael Stipe's lyrics, which have greatly improved to take on darker and more brooding themes. Whether it's the musings on death for "Find the River", "Try Not to Breathe" and "Sweetness Follows", the yearning desire to maintain positivity on "Everybody Hurts", the difficulty in looking forward as the past still haunts on "Monty Got a Raw Deal", Michael showcased a more earnest pursuit for reflection and emotional connections. There are a few songs that break up the wallow with some needed levity such as the political rant towards the Reagan and Bush administrations on "Ignoreland", the tribute to late-night entertainer Andy Kaufman on "Man on the Moon", and the cartoonish payphone scenario in "The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite". For as much as Michael's lyrics get cryptic, there was a lot of evocative imagery and contemplation utilized effectively here.

Overall, I was genuinely pleased with Automatic for the People. I'm glad I witnessed how R.E.M. evolved as a group to achieve such a resonant work.

Here's a case where the year released might be brought into question. Ostensibly, yes this is a live album from soul singer-songwriter Sam Cooke that was recorded at the Harlem Square Club in Miami back in 1963, and it was originally planned to be released later that year. However, this live album would end up shelved until its release in 1985. The reason for this prolonged delay was that Sam's label RCA Records wanted to protect his squeaky-clean image that was presented on earlier albums. I'm sure this notion sounds ludicrous today, but upon reflection of where America was in 1963 during the civil rights movement, it was probably a calculated strategy for the time to keep selling his records to white people. Only years later did RCA executive Gregg Geller discover the tapes and issue them out. At least this performance saw the light of day because it is amazing.

From the get-go with "Feel It", Sam Cooke carried such raw charisma in this live performance to elevate his typical doo-wop soul music into a more kinetic and energetic sound, aided by his backing band playing at the same high intensity. Not to mention, the amount of times that he gets the crowd involved, whether it's getting people to shout the "uh's" and "ahh's" in "Chain Gang" or singing along to the chorus of "Having a Party" at the end.

Live at the Harlem Square Club is one of those live albums where I genuinely feel like I'm vibing with the audience, which is the highest praise I could give for such a legend in his element.