Reviews by abrisskull

Ahh, Santana, the renowned Latin rock/jazz fusion group formed by Mexican-American guitarist extraordinaire Carlos Santana. I'm already familiar with the two big singles from this album: the cover of Tito Puente's "Oye Como Va" and the medley of Fleetwood Mac's "Black Magic Woman" and Gábor Szabó's "Gypsy Queen". I would consider both very transformative from their originals: the former boasts a driving rock cadence, with Gregg Rolie's Hammond organ providing the necessary block chords, while the latter is given a mambo-style percussive syncopation. Both are catchy as sin, and it made me wonder what the rest of Abraxas held.

To little surprise, this album was a treat. It is quite the spectacle how each band member felt equally involved in the songwriting and arrangement of this record. Sure, I come to a Santana record expecting Carlos Santana on guitar, and his phrasing is superb, letting his guitar speak in a manner not unlike what John Coltrane achieved on A Love Supreme. But it's also a testament to the classic lineup how they managed to incorporate three different percussionists without the mix getting too busy: José "Chepito" Areas and Michael Carabello with their Latin syncopated beats on the congas and timbales, and Michael Shrieve with his jazz-inspired cadence on drums. David Brown added sparse bass nestled neatly opposite Carlos's guitar work. Gregg Rolie went from a soft swoon on "Black Magic Woman" to a feverish snarl on "Hope You're Feeling Better", and he proved just as effortless on the keyboards. All these ingredients combined into a lush, eclectic melting pot of styles, ranging from rock, jazz, blues, merengue, salsa, and more.

Abraxas is jam-packed with such distinct moments. The breezy, unintrusive introduction of "Singing Winds, Crying Beasts", that 6/8 motif central to the busywork of "Incident at Neshabur", the African rhythms working their magic on "Se a Cabó", the straightforward yet hard-rocking number "Mother's Daughter", the sentimental bolero "Samba Pa Ti", that Deep Purple-sounding heavy-hitter "Hope You're Feeling Better", and the fun little chant at the end with "El Nicoya" made for such an enjoyable experience from front to back. Sure, the second half could have been arranged a little differently in the track order, and "Mother's Daughter" seemed to be yet another song about dealing with a cheating woman. But those are nitpicks that don't really hamper my listening.

Overall, Abraxas was such a delightful, mystique-filled album. Of course, Santana the band would go through lineup changes and further style experimentation, and even saw a career resurgence toward the end of the 1990s with Supernatural and its big singles "Maria Maria" and "Smooth". It's cool to see Carlos and his band still going strong decades later.

Man, it's been over two years since I had a Brian Eno solo record. I know I've seen Eno pop up here and there with other artists included in the 1001 Albums books, like David Bowie, U2, and Roxy Music. It has certainly helped expand my understanding of how impactful Eno is as a producer. That's why I was curious to check out Another Green World, an album viewed as a transitional point between the rock-based music of his earlier work and the ambient work he would come to be known for. Plus, this album also featured a core of renowned musicians filling in at points, particularly King Crimson guitarist Robert Fripp and Genesis drummer Phil Collins. With all that said, what was it like to visit Another Green World?

Well, I can definitely recognize at points where Eno's ambient stylings were coming to fruition. From the ominous clink-clank of "In Dark Trees" segueing to the hypnotically resonant "The Big Ship", the gentle combination of piano and electric guitar on the title track, the peculiar whirring synths opposite the clashing percussion over a subtle piano line on "Little Fishes", the breeze that gives way to that wall of synths enveloping the piano on "Becalmed", only for the piano to escape and take center stage with that striking motif alongside the thudding bass and cymbals on "Zawinul/Lava", culminating in that final drawn-out synthwork on "Spirits Drifting", Eno knew how to build an atmosphere uniquely characterized to whatever theme or environment he wanted to evoke. For some songs, like with "The Big Ship", he did all the instrumental parts, which is an impressive feat. Otherwise, the session personnel did a superb job of filling in the gaps as needed, with even some rock elements spicing up the ambient pieces, like Percy Jones's grooving basswork on "Over Fire Island" or that foreboding filtered guitar soloing that defined "Sombre Reptiles".

That said, the album is still a transitional work, as there are a few songs where Brian Eno did sing, and I'll admit that I wasn't always into them. Granted, Eno addressed early on with "Sky Saw" that his lyrics didn't need much meaning, as the average person wasn't likely to pay close attention to them: "All the clouds turn to words/All the words float in sequence/No one knows what they mean/Everyone just ignores them". That still doesn't forgive him for closing out "I'll Come Running" with the nauseating repetition of the line "I'll come running to tie your shoe", or how corny his lyrics and limited delivery got on "Everything Merges with the Night", but it's a serviceable explanation nonetheless. In any case, even these songs have some intriguing instrumental flourishes going on, such as the buzzing synths on "Sky Saw" or Robert Fripp's kinetic guitar soloing on "St. Elmo's Fire" that was meant to simulate an electrical charge in a Wimshurst high-voltage generator. That is some genuinely inspired work.

Overall, I had a good time in Another Green World. It is an important stepping stone leading to what Brian Eno would accomplish with records like Ambient 1/Music for Airports, and I'm glad he made that transition.

Oh hey, it's that guy who covered Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" for the Shrek film soundtrack. I'm pretty sure that's what comes to mind for most people when they think of Rufus Wainwright, myself included. Even then, that's not the version used in the film; it was the John Cale version. That doesn't leave much for me going into this third album of Rufus's, Want One, with its only two singles released specifically in the UK market. This may be the case of another American artist that managed to do better overseas. The question is, does it hold up?

Well, without much expectation, I was admittedly intrigued by how good a chamber pop record it turned out to be. Granted, it took a bit for the album to get its momentum, as the repetitive two-note tuba motif for "Oh What a World" was a tad grating to me. Plus, a few tracks in the middle, like the solo piano ballad "Pretty Things", didn't quite enamor me as anticipated. Nevertheless, I can recognize the showmanship on display. Rufus waxed poetic about various aspects of his life up to this point, including his homosexuality, his troubled relationship with his parents, and his prior crystal meth addiction. All of this is carefully delivered through Rufus's pleasant tenor vocals, as the intricate symphonic arrangements ebb and swell as needed with this bombastic production courtesy of Marius de Vries. I cannot deny how evocative and captivating tracks like "I Don't Know What It Is", "Movies of Myself", "Go or Go Ahead", and "14th Street" went off with such pomp and circumstance. It all culminates in the confrontation with his father on the rapturous ballad "Dinner at Eight", taking on this David and Goliath allusion to illustrate how much he felt abandoned by his old man, but still offering an opportunity for both of them to reconcile.

Even if it's not a perfect listen all the way through, I had more than enough of a good time with Want One. I am curious how the sister album turned out, but that will be for another time.

Okay, on some level, I get why this album was included. Elvis is Back! is often cited as the point where Elvis Presley started to mature as a performer, improving his vocal range and diversifying his musical palette during his last few months serving in the U.S. Army. While there are traces of his early rock & roll style on tracks like Otis Blackwell's "Make Me Know It" and "Dirty, Dirty Feeling", the album as a whole is a measured modulation toward traditional pop, R&B, and doo-wop of the time, complete with polished stereo production. I can see on paper how these ingredients combined would make for a very marketable comeback for Elvis.

And yet... I don't know; I feel like I didn't get much out of this. After all, it's still another album of mostly cover songs where I can more easily find the originals or better versions of the tracks nowadays. Take the song "Fever", for example; I can go to the Little Willie John original, the Peggy Lee lounge version, or even the rendition actress Nana Visitor did for the Star Trek: Deep Space Nine episode "His Way", and find better performances and gravitas than what Elvis offered. I can't deny that Elvis was a good performer, and I recognize that his vocal range has improved and sounded better with this production. But since my standard for covers was set high by someone like Aretha Franklin, it's difficult to think otherwise. If anything, it made me realize how sanitized Elvis's image had become, away from the raucous rock & roll lifestyle of his early output toward a more contemporary outlook.

Again, it made for great marketing that Elvis's comeback record sounded this appealing. But as an album to check out decades removed, it was a different lane for him, but not enough to move the needle for me. That's all.

Let's make this clear - I am basing this review on the first two discs that match the original CD release, no bonus tracks or subsequent discs from the 20th anniversary edition. That's still two and a third hours of drum 'n' bass music. That is daunting, and if I'm being honest, this album really doesn't find its footing until a little over halfway through the first disc with "Heroes", save for guest rapper Bahamadia's impeccable flow over the breakneck beats on the title track. But man, once New Forms gets going, it gets going.

DJ Roni Size concocted some very stellar beats and atmospheric production. In fact, not all the beats are the typical jungle-esque variety, as he played with beatboxing and Morse code on the tracks that respectively name-call them, plus the swaggering groove from the record-scratching on "Watching Windows" felt very inspired. Si John's bass is noticeably supple throughout the mix, conjuring these motifs that become a central focus of multiple tracks like "Brown Paper Bag", "Let's Get It On", "Hi-Potent" and "Trust Me". Onallee's sultry vocals made for a pleasant appearance on "Heroes", "Watching Windows", and "Share the Fall", even if that last track didn't need two different versions. Not to mention, I really dug how disc two dipped into acid jazz stylings, where the clashing beats worked in tandem with the more prominent basslines and horn embellishments.

Even if I feel this album could have been trimmed down, New Forms was an intoxicating experience. Roni Size & Reprazent would release one more album, but still play live occasionally, which is cool to see.

Yusuf Islam, better known as Cat Stevens, probably doesn't need much introduction, as one of the most prolific singer-songwriters out there. I heard the big singles "Wild World" and "Father and Son" in numerous places, and those tracks have a certain sentimentality to me. I also recognize how cathartic the release of Tea for the Tillerman must have been for Yusuf. He went through a spiritual awakening and a subsequent fruitful writing period while hospitalized for tuberculosis. He switched record labels to pursue his desire to be a folk-rock artist who isn't overshadowed by outlandish orchestration. Plus, the first release from this stripped-down direction, Mona Bone Jakon, was only a modest success. Thus, I am glad to say that Tea for the Tillerman was his commercial breakthrough, and for good reason.

I think this record resonated with me because of the genuine earnestness in Yusuf's weathered life lessons, personal struggles, desires, and spiritual journey. The loss of innocence expressed through the ecological toll taken as society progresses on "Where Do the Children Play?", the yearning for a practical and uncompromising partner on "Hard Headed Woman", the retrospection on his return to music after being hospitalized for so long on "Wild World", his bouts with depression on "Sad Lisa", his hunger for spiritual balance on "Miles from Nowhere", the harsh observations on expectations imposed at a young age on "But I Might Die Tonight", the plea for unity in the face of external threats on "Longer Boats", and the search for spiritual freedom and bliss on "Into White" and "On the Road to Find Out" are all presented well, with such commandment of quiet and loud dynamics from Yusuf's own voice as the backing vocals and instrumentation match. It all culminates in the penultimate track "Father to Son", as Yusuf switches between his tenor and baritone ranges to present the father and son characters in the narrative, both providing their measured perspectives as the son heads out to start his life anew. It's a beautiful song that speaks universally to growth and generational differences, and it always tugged at my heartstrings the most from this record.

Sure, the closing title track was a rather short ending, but that's the only nitpick I have, and even then it's upbeat and anthemic. At this point, I feel certain in my adoration for Tea for the Tillerman, as it is a beautiful record. Of course, Yusuf would achieve further success, starting with the very next record and its big single, "Peace Train". He also found his spiritual bliss with his conversion to Islam, which I am happy for him.

So I have heard Kool Keith, albeit sampled for the refrain of The Prodigy's "Smack My Bitch Up". He started as a founding member of the Bronx-based hip-hop group Ultramagnetic MC's before pivoting to a solo career. While Keith has released albums under his own name, he often performs under several aliases with distinct stage personalities. One of his well-known personas is Dr. Octagon, an extraterrestrial, time-traveling, unhinged surgeon and gynecologist. That character is introduced on Kool Keith's solo debut, Dr. Octagonecologyst.

Let me make this clear: this is an underground hip-hop sci-fi horror comedy concept album, filled to the brim with Keith's abstract, surrealist lyricism, largely presented through the lens of Dr. Octagon. It is very niche; I will readily admit that. But as someone who has grown to appreciate underground hip-hop through the likes of Mike Ladd, Aesop Rock, Deltron 3030, Jedi Mind Tricks, Mos Def & Talib Kweli, billy woods, Open Mike Eagle, and many others, I can adjust well to this record. I recognize that Kool Keith has a masterful flow, as he showed how crazed and incompetent Dr. Octagon is, slipping in some cool science-fiction elements and even shots taken toward the rise of G-funk. It certainly helped that Dan the Automator handled the production wonderfully, blending organic instrumentation and samples scratched around the mix by turntablist DJ Qbert. Tracks like "Earth People", "Real Raw", and "Blue Flowers" have such a twisted bounce to them amidst the eerie strings, whirring synths, and hard-hitting percussion. I didn't even mind the interlude skits on this record. They were layered and mixed well, adding to the album's humor by showing how irresponsible and reckless Dr. Octagon is toward his patients. Even the instrumental break with "Bear Witness" was such an intriguing deviation.

All that said, I didn't like everything on the album. I think I already got a good sense that Dr. Octagon was a pervert from the "A Visit to the Gynceologist" skit; I did not need the doubling down on that notion with "Girl Let Me Touch You". Also, I'm not sure what to make of the ending track "1977", because it seemed like Kool Keith dropped the Dr. Octagon narrative to insert himself into the early hip-hop canon alongside Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five and Afrika Bambaataa and the Zulu Nation. I'm sure it served as a neat little tribute to the artists that Keith was inspired by, but it was a weirdly abortive ending to the larger concept.

Still, I had a relatively good time with Dr. Octagonecologyst. Kool Keith continued to rap under the Dr. Octagon persona over multiple records, even after killing off the character with another of his aliases, Dr. Dooom. Dan the Automator saw further production success with acts like Primal Scream, Gorillaz, and Deltron 3030. Even DJ QBert saw more prominence with the release of his turntablism-based musical Wave Twisters. It's amazing how these guys rose to fame off this incredibly bizarre record.

Finally, after going through Gorillaz and The Good, the Bad & the Queen, I get to talk about the band that Damon Albarn first rose to fame with: Blur. Damon started that group from his previous band, Seymour, alongside bassist Alex James, drummer Dave Rowntree, and guitarist and childhood friend Graham Coxon. They would start with a cross between Madchester and shoegaze before taking influence from 1960s British pop rock groups, leading to them becoming one of the defining acts of the Britpop scene. Though after the release of The Great Escape, tensions strained between bandmates and the band sought to change up their style again, taking influence from American underground and lo-fi music. This change in direction would lead to their self-titled album.

Now, obviously, the big hit from this record is "Song 2", as it continues to be prominently featured across media to this day. I still get a kick out of that track, but I also want to acknowledge that other songs on the record manage to be good in their twisted ways. Graham's gritty electric guitar work, Damon's off-kilter delivery, and Alex and Dave's sturdy rhythm section made for quite the foundation to bounce off into a variety of stylistic sprawls. The thudding guitar stabs that give way to the menacing dream pop sequence of "Beetlebum", the rustic psychedelia of "Country Sad Ballad Man", the Bowie-esque rocker "M.O.R.", the drum machine and electronic tinkering on "On Your Own", the bizarre space-dub of "Theme from Retro", Graham's frail delivery on the distant Midwestern tune "You're So Great", the sinister reggae dirge of "Death of a Party", the frantic dive bar rager "Chinese Bombs", the anthemic ballad about life on the road with "Look Inside America", and the psych-folk of "Strange News from Another Star" made for quite the tasty melting pot of sounds. In a way, the experimentation on this record precipitated Damon's work on Gorillaz, and I dug it for the most part.

Granted, there were a few tracks I wasn't as into because of Damon's delivery in tandem with the particular style used. I didn't care for his nasally filtered vocals over the swampy stomp of "I'm Just a Killer for Your Love", and I was mentally checking out on the more standard rock tune "Movin' On," followed by the spoken-word and rattling guitar noise of "Essex Dogs" and that instrumental hidden track that seemed to go nowhere. Perhaps a few songs could have been cut from the album.

But still, I had an overall good time with Blur's self-titled record. I am curious how their earlier Britpop records fared, but it's clear that they continued to be creative and not rest on their laurels.

It's been about two years since I listened to The Soft Bulletin. As I mentioned back then, I first heard of The Flaming Lips through a few songs from Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, namely part one of the title track and "Do You Realize??" I figured I would be in for a treat based on those two, and that ended up being an understatement.

This is a very trippy neo-psychedelic record with elements of space rock scattered throughout the listening experience. The juxtaposition of organic instrumentation and whirring electronic flourishes creates eclectic soundscapes. Whether it's letting the gurgling synths go all out against the clashing drums for the fight scene of part two of the title track, or the ambient whirs that give way to a gentle acoustic strum paired with Wayne Coyne's hazy delivery on "In the Morning of Magicians", there is inherent beauty in the crossbreeding of these sounds, well-structured and arranged throughout the runtime with spacious production to boot.

As for the lyrical content, I found it intriguing that the band wove together a series of loose science fiction narratives. I never got the sense of a concept album, because the actual battle between the young girl Yoshimi and the robots ended rather early on the record. I'm cool with it, because it meant that the band felt free to explore other stories to express and convey a wide array of human emotions and experiences. Contemplating the universe in relation to our own everyday decisions on "In the Morning of the Magicians", the inability to reciprocate one's feelings on "Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell", being cheated on and manipulated by someone else on "Are You a Hypnotist?", encouraging someone to come out of their isolation on "It's Summertime", and finally accepting one's death and how precarious our existence is on "Do You Realize??", further explored with the time traveler's realization to live our one life to the fullest on "All We Have is Now". These themes all came across as genuine and earnest through Wayne, making for such a wholesome and engaging listen. It was a lot to reflect on as the album closed with a breathtaking instrumental journey in "Approaching Pavonis Mons by Balloon (Utopia Planitia)".

I thoroughly enjoyed my time listening to Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots. I'm not sure The Flaming Lips ever recaptured the artistic highs they reached with this record, but I can accept that we at least got this gem out of them.

I will not include the bonus track "Makin' Out" in this review.

I will admit that I have probably listened to more of The Darkness than the average person would. I remember first hearing their big hit "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" on the soundtrack for Guitar Hero On Tour: Decades. Since then, I have heard the first half of this debut album, Permission to Land, alongside other select songs and albums from later in their career. It's not surprising why I keep coming back to them - a band deliberately harkening back to the glam rock of the 1970s, particularly Slade and Queen, with a touch of AC/DC-esque hard rock and Justin Hawkins's over-the-top falsetto delivery.

But there are two key reasons why I keep coming back to The Darkness over other bands borrowing from glam rock and hard rock at the time. First, they actually wrote and composed kick-ass music with actual muscle to it, especially with Dan Hawkins' electrifying guitar work. Second, they come off as genuinely earnest in throwing back to these earlier styles. Sure, the music can be cheesy, especially when they do their own power ballads in "Love is Only a Feeling" and "Holding My Own". But the musicianship more often than not outshines any perceived cheesiness. Hell, I can get away with saying that "Friday Night" is the cock rock equivalent of The Cure's "Friday I'm in Love" that I never knew I needed, because the songwriting is that fun and well-constructed. I'll gladly take this over the likes of Jet, Hinder, or Buckcherry any day.

So yeah, I did enjoy listening to Permission to Land. I'm glad The Darkness are still going out there, making consistently good music. Ain't nothing wrong with that.

I will not include Dion's 1976 album Streetheart and the bonus track "Baby, Let's Stick Together" from the 2001 Ace Records CD reissue in this review.

Okay, I have to ask - why is this album included in the 1001 Albums books? Seriously. Because I do understand that there is an underlying agenda to include at least one album from some of the more notable figures in music history to give at least a taste of what they were known for. I've seen it with the likes of Loretta Lynn, Al Green, Nina Simone, Merle Haggard, and other names on my album journey, and I reckon that Dion DiMucci fits that mold. He certainly made an impression as frontman of the doo-wop group The Belmonts before embarking on a hit-making solo career and diversifying his sound. But that said, why Born to Be with You in particular?

For those who don't know, Born to Be with You is characterized by the troublesome recording sessions with Phil Spector on the production. To wit, Phil was a chore to work with at this point, heavily drinking on the job and threatening artists like Bruce Springsteen and Cher who came into the studio during sessions. It was not a pleasant experience, and I don't blame Dion for disowning this record, because it shows in the shoddy production. For most of the tracks, Phil's once-famous Wall of Sound production style became a problem, as the instrumentation surrounding Dion's voice is generally overblown. It can work in moments, like the slowed-down, spaced-out opening title track, the anthemic stomper "Only You Know", and the upbeat closing track "Good Lovin' Man". But for the sentimental pop-rock ballads like "Make the Woman Love Me" and "In and Out of the Shadows", the mix can be absolutely suffocating to the atmosphere. It gets to the point where the slapdash arrangement and vocal pickup on Dion for the cover of "(He's Got) The Whole World in His Hands" had me on the cusp of a migraine headache.

It sucks to say that, because I think Dion has a decent singing voice. I can point to the two tracks that Dion co-wrote and Phil did not produce - "Your Own Back Yard" and "New York City Song" - and recognize the genuine talent that Dion injected into his downbeat, character-driven storytelling. I honestly wish the rest of the album were on the same level as these two.

Honestly, I feel that it was a disservice to Dion that this was the album chosen to represent him in the books. A different album would have made for a better showcase, maybe Runaround Sue with its title track and "The Wanderer" as notable singles. Otherwise, cherry-pick your favorites and go from there.

I will not include the non-album single "Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll" in this review.

I've heard a few songs here and there from singer-songwriter Ian Dury, including the singles from this solo debut album. He was certainly a very unconventional character, combining music hall with elements of punk, rock & roll, and funk, incorporating observational humor and wordplay into his lyrics. That much is evident from listening to New Boots and Panties!!

These songs are character sketches inspired by British everyday life and Ian's musical influences. Whether it's the exaggerated description of his father on "My Old Man", the sexual escapades on "Wake Up and Make Love With Me", or the perceptions of daft people being challenged on "Blockheads", there is some very dry wit that Ian employed in his talk-singing cadence. The humor can come across as sentimental on "Sweet Gene Vincent" with his tribute to the rockabilly icon, or as dire with the portrayal of the girl who ruined herself from taking heroin at a young age on "Plaistow Patricia". Along the way, the music matches the tone across a sampling of genres, from delicious funky licks on "Wake Up and Make Love With Me" and "Clevor Trever" to kinetic hard-hitting riffs on "Blockheads" and "Blackmail Man". The language can come across as very specific to what was going on in Britain at the time, and humor can be very subjective, but for the most part, I can appreciate it.

That said, there are a few tracks I wasn't as into. In particular, I didn't care much for the straightforward music hall number "Billericay Dickie", as this character obnoxiously bragged about his time spent with multiple women. Then a little later, I was into the strutting Steely Dan-esque groove of "If I Was With a Woman" until the very end, with the repeated utterance of the word "laughing" slowly pitched higher, to the point where I was legit uncomfortable. Maybe that's how that song was supposed to make me feel, but it makes me hesitate to come back to it.

Still, I got some enjoyment out of New Boots & Panties!! It's a solid solo debut from quite the cheeky bastard who truly carved his own path.

I know I have heard a couple of songs here and there from Suicide's self-titled debut. The duo of vocalist Alan Vega and instrumentalist Martin Rev would be considered pioneers of synth-punk, combining the intensity of punk rock with synthesizers and primitive drum machines. Yet they would also have a much wider impact on several artists and genres, across synth-pop, electronic, alternative rock, industrial, and even Bruce Springsteen himself. So the historical significance of Suicide's debut is well established. The question at hand is: does it still hold up decades later?

Well, if there is one song to take away from this album, to encapsulate the essence of what is profound about this record, it's "Frankie Teardrop". The track is ten and a half minutes long, with a simple two-note keyboard riff and an even simpler drum machine pattern, where Alan talk-sang about a young man named Frankie. Frankie struggles to make ends meet with his factory job, as he's about to be evicted from his place. Driven to insanity from his desperation, he proceeds to shoot his wife and six-month-old kid before taking his own life. Frankie then makes his descent into hell, with one of the last statements in the song that "we're all Frankies/we're all lyin' in hell", implying that any one of us can be driven to insanity with the right conditioning. This track, complete with Alan's blood-curdling screams during the fatal deaths and the descent into hell, is pretty bleak. I'm not surprised this song would affect guys like Bruce Springsteen and Henry Rollins; it is that disturbing and dark, with such an enveloping atmosphere conjured from such a simple instrumental arrangement. In fact, "Frankie Teardrop" is so profound that the rest of the album pales in comparison.

Don't get me wrong; it's not like I hated any of the other songs. From an instrumental standpoint, I can vibe with the simple yet catchy synthesizer riffs and drum machine patterns. But lyrically, none of the other tracks quite flesh out their character moments to the same visceral degree as "Frankie Teardrop". Whether it was the 1950s rock & roll pastiche of "Johnny", the doomed couple's car crash of "Rocket USA", the ode to Marvel comics superhero Ghost Rider on the opening track, the fluffy romantic ballad "Cheree", the sexual prowess on "Girl", or the light critique of Cuban Revolution leader Che Guevara on the closing track, there isn't enough detail to develop these stories in the same way "Frankie Teardrop" managed to accomplish. If anything, it seemed that Alan was largely going off "vibes" for these songs, which I didn't find as gripping. It's especially egregious with the attempt at a political bent on "Che"; I get that Che Guevara wasn't a "saint", but it would have been nice to at least touch upon why.

Overall, I get how important Suicide's self-titled is to many artists and genres, and I recognize those formative elements here. I can certainly respect the album, even if my only takeaways are "Frankie Teardrop" and maybe the singles.

Back when I reviewed evermore, I mentioned that I used to be a Taylor Swift hater, especially with her transition into pop. Those feelings were largely due to the singles I heard in passing. For 1989, the full-on rebirth of her sound into this genre, it was "Shake It Off", "Blank Space", and "Bad Blood" from what I recall. Since then, I formally got into Taylor’s music through her folk ventures with folklore and evermore, came to appreciate her as a pop star with Midnights, and along the way listened to the “Taylor’s Version” re-recordings of her earlier output, including 1989. Then, at some point, I got a hold of the original album through my oldest sister, cause she’s more of a Swiftie than I’ll ever be. So, after originally dismissing Taylor’s first foray into straight-up pop music over a decade ago, I can now come around and say that I like it, for the most part.

It’s probably a double-edged sword that I can recognize the influences Taylor had for 1989 from purveying indie and pop artists of the early 2010s that were bringing back synth-pop and other retro pastiches. Opening track “Welcome to New York” has a prominent synth line and strident vocal cadence that reminded me of CHVRCHES. Cuts like “Style” and “Wildest Dreams” brought more energy to the appropriation of 60s pop stars than Lana Del Rey did, with the former having the added boon of that rollicking disco-esque guitar line. “Bad Blood” felt eerily reminiscent of Avril Lavigne’s brand of pop rock juxtaposed with Lorde’s sparse instrumentation. In fact, "I Know Places" with its snappy snare beats would've fit onto Lorde's curated soundtrack for one of the Hunger Games films at the time. Then you check the liner notes, and find that Jack Antonoff co-wrote and co-produced “Out of the Woods” and “I Wish You Would”, which sound straight out of the Bleachers playbook. A similar case can be made for “Clean” with Imogen Heap’s backing vocals and more intimate production that melds organic instrumentation with the electronics. In a sense, Taylor, with the assistance of Max Martin, Shellback, and other outside songwriters and producers, acted like a chameleon, masquerading in other artists’ styles while providing a lot of the charisma and presence with her voice. That’s not to say she’s perfect at doing it; I’ve never been bought into “Shake It Off” in its attempted kiss-off to the “haters”, complete with her trying to emulate Kesha’s talk-sing cadence, and it’s utterly baffling. But more often than not, I dug her style dabbling through most of this record.

But therein lies the issue - for as much as I do enjoy Taylor’s emulation of other artists in places, it’s hard to discern much of her personality or unique instrumental quirks on her own album. The closest I get to fitting that description are the more guitar-driven “All You Had to Do Was Stay” (with the admittedly shrill utterances of “Stay” in the chorus), the bubblegum pop sheen of "How You Get the Girl", and the atmospheric soft rock ballad “This Love”. Though those songs also happen to be the only ones on the album with any real instrumental warmth. This will happen when most of the sound is defined by drum machine usage, to the point where melodies are often carried by the vocal line. The closest Taylor gets to making that style work wonders is with the closing track "Clean", but that's due to the masterful production work of Imogen Heap compared to Max Martin, Shellback, and Ryan Tedder.

But, as always with a Taylor Swift album, the main selling point is the lyrical content. Aside from the aforementioned "Shake It Off" and some underdeveloped symbolism like with the chorus of "This Love", there is an implied narrative of her moving to New York and the dissolution of an ill-fated relationship. Now, going for a more straightforward autobiography isn't a bad choice, as it allowed her to be more nuanced in the framing and highlight how said relationship's failings fall on both sides. The guy may be a cheater and unreliable, but Taylor herself admitted to also being just as bad. It's very telling from the get-go on the bridge of "Welcome to New York", where we have the lines, "Like any great love, it keeps you guessing/Like any real love, it's ever-changing/Like any true love, it drives you crazy"; she embraced the drama that came with the relationships and her role in contributing to it. This approach does sacrifice relatability, as Taylor was moving on from the "girl next door" image she cultivated from her early work, and maybe also glamorizes drama-overloaded relationships, but the songwriting does shine in showcasing enough self-awareness on her part; how much of this is her failure to get over this guy and instead keep taking him back. More importantly, this is Taylor taking a more assertive role, admitting to the culpability and how she made the bad decisions for the wrong decisions, and then at the end, she does move on from that relationship.

At the end of the day, I have grown to appreciate 1989 as Taylor's first full-on foray into pop music. I personally feel she would come into her own as a pop artist with Midnights, but there are still some merits to be had with this record.

I don't think I've ever listened to Orbital until now. Brothers Phil and Paul Hartnoll have been innovators in electronic music for almost four decades, having cultivated their early popularity during the techno boom of the mid-1990s. In fact, they garnered mass acclaim with their second self-titled album, Orbital 2 aka The Brown Album, and I can see why.

The Hartnoll brothers created some truly atmospheric music that can be both enjoyed at a dance rave and on one's own with a pair of headphones. The bouncing synths with the pulsing beat and light sitar influence on "Planet on the Shapes", the glistening electronic stabs with that steady snap in the background on "Lush 3-1" before giving way to the minimal shifting rhythm and soft female vocals of "Lush 3-2", the jungle-esque beat paired with the electronic whistle, horns and squelches on "Impact (The Earth is Burning)", the cascading synthesizers before switching up to an oscillated, menacing four-on-the-floor rhythm on "Remind", that prominent sample of a didgeridoo accentuating the shuffle and bright keyboard motif on "Walk Now...", the buildup of colliding sounds from a simple piano melody on "Monday", and the absolute behemoth of backmasked vocal samples stitched together into this breathtaking soundscape on "Halcyon + On + On" made for the truly remarkable electronic experimentation. The way these songs stretch over minutes and transition mostly seamlessly from one to the next is a spectacle to behold.

The only point of contention I have is with the bookended tracks, in which the Hartnoll brothers tinkered with phasing. For those who don't know, phasing in music is when two identical tape loops start playing at the same time and, by altering the speed of the tapes, they gradually separate. It's meant to cause a rhythmic effect in the separation. I remember learning about it in college when I studied Steve Reich for a music course. I respect the technique, but I'm not always into it. In this case, the album opens with "Time Becomes", where the tape loop used is the quote "There is the theory of the Möbius. A twist in the fabric of space where time becomes a loop", quoted from actor Michael Dorn as his character Lt. Worf in the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "Time Squared", which is admittedly one of the more forgettable episodes of the second season. In fact, this same quote opened Orbital's first album; it was a joke to fool people into thinking they bought the same album again. It's bemusing on first listen, though the novelty does wear after a while. But then there's the album closer, "Input Out", where the sampled quote is "Input translation to an output rotation" from an old instructional video on the linkage mechanism of a slider crank. As a bookend to complement "Time Becomes" as another phasing experiment, it doesn't appeal to me. As the immediate follow-up to "Halcyon + On + On", it kills the vibe that the preceding track meticulously built up. At the very least, "Halcyon + On + On" should have been the album closer.

Still, I can recognize the innovative chops that Orbital had on display with their second record. It certainly makes me curious about the other Orbital record in the books.

I will not include the bonus tracks from the 21st Century Edition reissue in this review.

Alright, I've listened to Sparks here and there, including the big single off this record, "This Town Ain't Big Enough for Both of Us". Brothers Ron and Russell Mael have been writing and composing rather quirky and eccentric art pop for over five decades now, having broken through to the mainstream with Kimono My House. Compared to their first two records, this one is where Ron is established as the primary songwriter. As such, there's a marriage of complex lyrics with a more pop-oriented glam rock sound, characterized by Russell's affluent falsetto and Ron's bright RMI keyboard tones. With Muff Winwood's simple yet punchy production, this album kicks ass. Every track on here is excellent, including the Western standoff of "This Town Ain't Big Enough for Both of Us", the kooky waltz of "Falling in Love with Myself Again", Adrian Fisher's wailing guitar licks over the failed suicide pact on "Here in Heaven", the bright melodies juxtaposed with the marked dread on "Thank God It's Not Christmas", the cheeky story of not being able to communicate with a partner on "Hasta Mañana, Monsieur", and the surprisingly poignant cautionary tale of taking advantage of one's genius on "Talent Is an Asset". Even the album closer, "Equator", is this surrealist ballad with horn-esque keyboard glitz, as the narrator laments being unable to find his date along Earth's equator. While that song does go on for a tad longer than it needed to, I still had a good time with it.

I ain't got much else to say, as Kimono My House is such a bona fide glam rock record. Sparks would continue to innovate and switch styles, garnering such influence on a wide array of musicians, justifiably so.

There is something that I have to confess to - I am a male music fan, and as such, I have been a fan of The Black Keys. I mean, there is a market for the duo of Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney, as they are a solid rock band that harkens back to the grimy, lo-fi era of garage rock. They certainly have the knack for making textured, rough-edged melody-driven hooks with some swaggering blues inspiration. It's enough of a formula for the two of them to milk over the course of several albums, only just reaching commercial success with their sixth release, Brothers, thanks in large part to bona fide singles like "Tighten Up" and "Howlin' For You".

But therein lies the problem – the band's formula can make for great singles, but not great album statements. Case in point, I listened to this album front to back, and while I can recognize good blues-inspired song construction in cuts like the slow-burn groove of "She's Long Gone", the swampy instrumental "Black Mud", the eerie keyboard penetrating through the mix on "The Only One", and the country-adjacent sway of "Ten Cent Pistol", there's not much throughline in connecting these song vignettes outside of aping influences like Howlin' Wolf and Robert Johnson. I will give credit to Mark Neill for his production, as the guitars are given some muscle to display a veneer of visceral bite, with the lone exception of "Tighten Up" handled by frequent collaborator Danger Mouse.

I'd also be remiss not to mention how obnoxious some of the lyrics can get, especially when Auerbach talks about women. Seriously, tracks like "Next Girl" and "She's Long Gone" had me feeling like he was dealing with caricatures of the women he's come across. Thankfully, the album's not all like that, as Auerbach does provide some genuine character moments, such as the rumination over the excesses of celebrity fame on "The Go Getter", the heartfelt tribute over a brother-in-law who passed away on "Unknown Brother", and the world-weariness in wondering how his life could have gone differently on "These Days".

Overall, I get the appeal of an album like Brothers. It does enough to recall the garage rock of yore with just enough modern grit. Of course, The Black Keys have continued to milk their formula since this album, and they've certainly garnered an audience. I respect the hustle.

This is quite the throwback band here. For those who don't know, Klaxons were at the forefront of the new rave movement, an offshoot of indie rock and alternative dance that dominated the British alternative scene in the late 2000s. Though really, the movement started as an in-joke by frontman Jamie Reynolds that quickly became a youth subculture for a short while. I know for me, I remember these gents for the single "Golden Skans", which appeared on the soundtrack for European versions of the game Guitar Hero On Tour: Modern Hits. In fact, they were featured on multiple video game soundtracks at the time. That said, how does their debut, Myths of the Near Future, hold up?

Honestly, this record was really damn good. The easiest way to describe the style of this album is dance-punk with elements of electronica. Reynolds's infectious basslines, Simon Taylor's crunchy guitars, James Righton's haunting keyboards, and Steffan Halperin and James Ford's punchy drums made for manic energy throughout these songs, further bolstered by the rather pleasant two-octave vocal delivery from Reynolds and Righton. Even when the momentum is dialed back for a few tracks like "Golden Skans" and "As Above So Below", there's enough power in the performance to keep it engaging.

As for the lyrics, Reynolds and Taylor get rather creative with the imagery they wanted to incorporate. After all, the album title is derived from a collection of science-fiction short stories by J. G. Ballard. As such, Klaxons made their debut with a loose concept album that touches upon themes and ideas within the genre, as the band tried to envision what the future would be like. It certainly adds a level of mystique to the record, allowing the band to get poetic, such as the way they describe rave lights on "Golden Skans", the exploration of sexual deviancy at the club on "Totem on the Timeline", or getting lost in love with someone on "Gravity's Rainbow". I'm sure the band got cheeky with their borrowing of fantastical elements, right down to casting themselves as the bringers of the apocalypse on closing track "Four Horsemen of 2012". But I consider the infused levity enjoyable, paired well with their abrasive dance-punk styling.

Color me impressed with Myths of the Near Future. It's a kooky, madcap record that showcased a band going for broke from the jump. Of course, the band would move away from the sound of their debut, and later disband in 2015. If anything, this album was a fun time capsule from such a weird period for alternative music.

I can't say I've heard of Gotan Project until now. Apparently, they're a multinational collective of composers and producers based in Paris, consisting of Eduardo Makaroff, Christoph H. Müller, and Philippe Cohen Solal. The kind of music they make can be described as a fusion of tango and electronic music, which seemed to be a trend predominantly from Argentina in the early 2000s. That style is very apparent on their debut record, La Revencha del Tango.

The combination of sharp string arrangements, brittle acoustic guitar, prominent low-end bass, blocky beats, and accordion flourishes, with trace elements of trip hop and the occasional guest singer, occurs throughout the runtime. It's the type of slow-burn dance music that invokes a sense of eloquence, even when the group is going out of their way to cover Frank Zappa of all people with "Chunga's Revenge". It certainly made for a pleasing listen, no doubt. Though if I am being honest with myself, my interest in this fusion started to wane towards the end. There are definitely a few tracks that overstay their length, like "Tríptico" and "El Capitalismo Foráneo". It would be nice to trim this album down a smidge.

Still, I can't deny that La Revancha del Tango was an intriguing listen. It certainly helped define a trendy fusion of two genres that I can understand the appeal of.

I know I've listened to John Martyn once before. He was an English singer-songwriter and guitarist who started in the Scottish folk scene before branching out into jazz and rock. He developed his own sound by feeding an acoustic guitar through a fuzzbox, a phase shifter, and an Echoplex tape delay effects unit. His particular idiosyncratic guitarwork would see commercial success with the release of Solid Air. We will touch upon this album later on my journey. For now, what's important here is that John's success from Solid Air and subsequent releases led to an extensive touring schedule in 1975, which ultimately burned him out. This, alongside his harboring hatred toward the music industry, his drinking problems, poor relationship with his wife, and the loss of two of his closest friends, led to John taking a year-long sabbatical to reassess things. Chris Blackwell, the founder of John's label, Island Records, invited him and his family to his home in Jamaica, and it proved to be a reinvigorating stay. Down there, John connected with some reggae musicians, including producer Lee "Scratch" Perry, and the two hit it off well in their shared use of echo effects. Upon returning home from the trip, John got to work on his next record, downplaying the acoustic guitar in favor of rock, world, and jazz fusion. Blackwell even offered to produce the record for him and booked a large array of musicians to play on it. That record would be known as One World.

This is an otherworldly album. The multitude of guitar effects John dabbled in alongside the complex jazz-funk rhythms made for an ethereal sound that felt indebted to dub music. I know that some cite this record as a forerunner for trip hop in the 1990s, and I can certainly hear that on cuts like the squelching bed of tabla and Moog synths on "Smiling Stranger" and the reverb-heavy guitar juxtaposed with the soft bass and the shifting synths on "Big Muff". But even then, this album still feels unique, as John ebbed between jazz-dub trips and ethereal ballads, carried by his laid-back, bluesy singing that came off effortlessly in expressing themes of peace and universal love. He even toyed with a bossa nova sound on the upbeat "Certain Surprise", and the closing track "Small Hours" was such a gorgeous ambient piece, as John's Echoplex-reverbed guitar slid away gently amidst the subtle percussion and the sounds of geese honking in the distance.

I hadn't even mentioned the session musicians on this record. Steve Winwood is prominently featured throughout and did a phenomenal job. But I also want to highlight George Lee's brief saxophone solo toward the end of "Smiling Stranger", Danny Thompson's gentle bass lines on "Couldn't Love You More" and "Certain Surprise", and Harry Robinson's sweeping string arrangements followed by Rico Rodriguez's tempered trombone solo on "Certain Surprise".

I genuinely enjoyed my time listening to One World. It was such a rewarding album with such intricate detail that helped John Martyn rekindle his joy for music. John would continue in this experimental bent into the 1980s and would carry on with his career until his passing in 2009. What a legend.