Reviews by abrisskull

Man, it was literally just last month that I first dived into Fela Kuti's music. I was thoroughly impressed across multiple releases with his knack for composing call-and-response-oriented jams that inspired people to stand and unite. Of course, he's not the only creative mind on this record. After the disbandment of Cream and Blind Faith, drummer Ginger Baker traveled to Nigeria and set up a recording studio in Lagos to immerse himself in African music. Ginger and Fela became friends during this period, and the two recorded together on multiple occasions. For this first stint, Ginger convinced Fela and his band Africa '70 to fly over to EMI Studios in London for a live-in-studio session.

The resulting record is a vibrant, upbeat series of funkish performances, complete with the dual baritone saxophones, chicken-scratching guitars, and Fela's powerful, charismatic voice. Tony Allen led the complex drums and congas before Ginger Baker joined in on "Ye Ye De Smell" and "Egbe Mi O (Carry Me I Want to Die)", further pushing the envelope with his jazz-inspired fast-paced syncopation. It is truly mesmerizing how these musicians from different backgrounds were able to sonically synchronize and be in tune with each other for such an eclectic jam for the ages, and it sounded like the in-studio audience was really into the performance.

If I had to nitpick, it's that I do miss the political edge of Fela's later releases. To be fair, there is a certain degree of highlighting the struggles of the Nigerian people on a track like "Black Man's Cry", plus there's spiritual empowerment through dancing and engagement with the music on "Let's Start" and "Egbe Mi O (Carry Me I Want to Die)". If anything, it does get rather humorous for the songs Ginger joins in on, as "Ye Ye De Smell" is a funny little anecdote about your girl's been cheating on you from the smell of the herbs they've been partaking in, while "Egbe Mi O (Carry Me I Want to Die)" is about dancing so hard that you break your body and have to get carried off the dancefloor. In that respect, even if I prefer the sharper political commentary to come, I found some enjoyment in these witty and joyful lyrics here.

Overall, this was a fun meeting of the minds, as Fela Kuti and Ginger Baker, alongside the rest of Africa '70, had the musical chops to put on such a defiantly jovial Afrobeat performance.

It's been a while since I've listened to some Bad Brains. I remember enjoying the hell out of their self-titled debut years ago. They started as a jazz fusion act before amping up the tempos and becoming a cross-pollination between hardcore punk and reggae, though even that melting pot of sounds wouldn't be enough to satiate. Starting with I Against I, the band incorporated more genres like heavy metal, funk, and soul. The result is a very ambitious record, albeit not entirely without flaws.

I think one of the most apparent highlights with Bad Brains compared to their contemporaries is their technical prowess. Dr. Know can absolutely shred on the guitar, and not far behind him were Darryl Jenifer's delectable bass lines and Earl Hudson's explosive drumwork. The intro into the title track alone is the type of commanding instrumental performance that this band is capable of. Of course, the member who got the most spotlight on this album is H.R., who expanded his vocal range from rapid-fire chatter to feral screeching and even some impressive baritone singing on cuts like "Re-Ignition" and "Secret 77". The group employed a good variety of styles, from the blistering fast-paced hardcore of the title track and "House of Suffering", to the soul-infused funk swagger of "Secret 77", to the heavy metal shuffle-beat of "She's Calling You", to some more glossy sheen on the guitar with the melodic sway of "Hired Gun".

Now, while I respect the variety of styles employed on this record, it does lead to some tonal and production inconsistencies. Probably the most notable example is "Sacred Love", where, at producer Ron Saint Germain's suggestion, H.R.'s vocals were recorded over the phone while he was in prison. It's certainly a choice, one that I could see was done to thematically tie in to the lyrics of being physically distant from one's lover but still spiritually connected to them, even if I found it did not translate well in the execution. Also, for as much as I've been generally okay with the light religious undercurrents in the lyrics, given the group's Rastafarian background, it definitely reached an uncomfortable point with the closer "Return to Heaven", as H.R. calls people to come away from the packed rats down in hell back up to their holy place. There's this lingering, unclear insinuation that those who don't follow their religious practices are considered detestable beings that need saving. It's not as overtly intolerant as later records like Quickness turned out to be, but it did leave an odd taste in my mouth at the end, which says a lot as a Catholic.

Aside from that ending, I still enjoyed I Against I overall. I recognize how widely influential Bad Brains was to several bands with their early output, and as such, they are worth checking out.

It's been a while since I heard anything by The Electric Prunes. A year and a half ago, I first listened to their big hit, "I Had Too Much to Dream (Last Night)". That mesmerizing vibration of the fuzzed-out guitar was such a distinct sound that felt complementary to a low-key garage-psych track about longing for an ex-lover. That style is pretty much apropos for the band's self-titled debut. Ken Williams's guitar effects tinkering, Mark Tulin's decent organ playing, and other such instrumental embellishments gave a slight edge to these surf-adjacent tunes. Meanwhile, the singers were more contemplative about their romantic interests than other acts were singing about at the time, which I found intriguing.

There were a few problems I had with this record. The overall production was rather muted, rarely pushing for a louder sound outside of the Indian-inspired tremolo picking that's pushed to the front of the mix on "Sold to the Highest Bidder". Also, I have to admit that "The Toonerville Trolley" was a very hokey showtune ending that was sonically and lyrically at odds with the rest of the album.

Still, I consider The Electric Prunes' self-titled debut to be solid overall, as it helped pave the way for the acid rock acts to come.

This will have been the third Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds album on my journey. I remember first listening to his near-hit with Kylie Minogue, "Where the Wild Roses Grow", a year and a half ago. Such an unconventional team-up that led to a serene waltz with the organic strings, acoustic guitar, and piano coalescing around this duet as they recount the murder of Elisa Day, from both the perspective of the killer and the victim. It is a genuinely amazing single that gave a taste of what Murder Ballads had in store.

True to its title, this record is a collection of narrative-driven songs that detail various murders... for the most part; I'll put a pin on that for later. Atmosphere is the name of the game here, as the compositions crawl with visceral menace, largely piano-driven as Nick and Conway Savage's tickled those ivory keys, with additional support from the distorted guitars of Blixa Bargeld and Mick Harvey, and the strong rhythmic foundation of Martyn P. Casey, Jim Sclavunos, and Thomas Wylder. It's the perfect backdrop for Nick to brood with specificity in these graphic tales. From the death of a mother and her three daughters in the chilling "Song of Joy", to the New Orleans R&B swagger of "Stagger Lee" as an update on the folk iconography of the murderous pimp Lee Shelton, to another bona fide duet on "Henry Lee" as PJ Harvey effortlessly played the woman who kills her cheating lover, to the wandering haze of "Lovely Creature" with the whooshing organ as a girl is left to die in the desert sands, to the choir accompaniment on the manic shuffle of "The Curse of Millhaven" as the character of Loretta went on a misguided killing spree, to the somber recounting of a crime scene in "The Kindness of Strangers", to the haunting blues of "Crow Jane" as the titular character went from rape victim to mass murderer, nothing is left on the table with each sensationalist story that offered a unique perspective. Probably the most spine-tingling tale came in the 14-minute "O'Malley's Bar", the song that spurred on the creation of this album. An eerie cabaret piece as Nick played a demented man hell-bent on his killing spree, only to stop from ending his life at the very end when his humanity was regained, and he turned himself in to the police. It's the kind of striking songwriting that I would not have expected any less from him.

All that said, I come back to my pin from earlier, as there is but one song on the album where a murder didn't happen. That would be the closer, a cover of Bob Dylan's "Death Is Not the End", where Nick is not only accompanied by Kylie and PJ on the vocals once again, but also his bandmates, Shane McGowan of the Pogues, and singer-songwriter Anita Lane. Sure, it has been described as a tongue-in-cheek inclusion by Nick, but I think there is something potent in the sentiment that for all these lives prematurely ended, there is still more in store for them, be it in the afterlife or in the memories of those we loved. Perhaps it's a bit of a reach to call it intentional, but I certainly felt moved by it as a curtain call.

Murder Ballads is a wonderful album, truly encapsulating what Nick Cave is known for as a singer-songwriter.

I didn't think I'd get the other Megadeth album in the books only two and a half months after getting Peace Sells, but here we are.

Rust in Peace certainly carries a lot of notoriety in the Megadeth discography as the first album with the "classic lineup". Not only do we have Dave Mustaine and David Ellefson, but also Nick Menza on drums and Marty Friedman as lead guitarist. Those two additions contribute to the elevated thrash sound. While the guitar riffs and popping basslines continued to fly, the double-bass drum work of Menza added that extra oomph, and Friedman's neoclassical playing stood out against Dave as they traded solos. There is genuinely relentless musical virtuosity throughout, particularly on cuts like "Hangar 18", "Take No Prisoners", "Poison Was the Cure", and "Tornado of Souls". Even when the momentum slowed down for a bit on the ominous bass-thump of "Dawn Patrol", the performance was still commanding, and it helped that the production was crisp enough to hear every note.

Along the way, Dave continued his focus on socially conscious lyrics. The album is bookended with two distinct perspectives on war - "The Holy Wars...The Punishment Due" from the view of a relentless soldier in the midst of religious conflict, taking dues from The Troubles in Northern Ireland and The Punisher comic book character; "Rust in Peace...Polaris" from that of a nuclear warhead launched with the intent to wipe out humanity, with the fallout foreshadowed in "Dawn Patrol". The rest of the content included the likes of alien conspiracies on "Hangar 18", supernatural encounters on "Five Magics" and "Lucretia", the dissolution of a relationship in "Tornado of Souls", Dave's former heroin addiction on "Poison Was the Cure", and the double standards of armed conflict on "Take No Prisoners". No punches were pulled in his words, with the sort of striking imagery that stuck in mind alongside the fierce instrumental compositions.

While Peace Sells did an amazing job at putting Megadeth on the map, it was Rust in Peace that showcased the true potential of what this band had accomplished.

I will not include discs 2 and 3 of the deluxe edition in this review.

It's been a while since I listened to Small Faces. I only heard a few of their singles, like "Itchycoo Park" and "Tin Soldier". They enjoyed a brief period of success as a psychedelic group before splitting up into Faces and Humble Pie. I figured an album from them would be a treat at the very least, but this particular one struck oddly.

Ogdens' Nut Gone Flake opened strong with the instrumental title track, a trippy piece centered on a wah-wah-modified Hammond organ as the accompanying strings kicked in. From there, a smattering of strong rockers and soul ballads filled the first half of the record. The intense passion of "Afterglow of Your Love" with the heavy organ and guitar playing, the jaunty haze and stomp-clap before the drums kicked in on "Long Agos and Worlds Apart", and the straightforward hard rocker "Song of a Baker" were all pretty good numbers. I'll admit that I'm not into Steve Marriott's thick Cockney accent singing on "Rene" and "Lazy Sunday", but I cannot deny the certain charm of these baroque pub tunes. I generally vibed well with the first half of this record.

Then, it got weird. The second half of this record can be described as a loose fairy tale around a boy named Happiness Stan who goes on a whimsical journey to find the missing half of the moon. The most generous analysis I can give is that the story could be viewed from the boy's perspective, who probably hadn't been taught about the lunar phases, and used his imagination to try to fill in the gaps. It would have been nice if the narrator or the character of Mad John had sat down at the end to explain to the child how the moon works, having seen it change after a week had gone by. No, instead, the story and album end with a jovial song about life that, at best, felt rather incongruent with the rest of the story. In fact, the whole presentation of this narrative felt rather odd, as narration from British comedic actor Stanley Unwin was juxtaposed between baroque pop and rock tunes in a very stilted fashion, complete with even more Cockney singing from Steve on a few tracks. Probably the only song in this half that I genuinely liked was "Rollin' Over", as a straightforward rocker about going on one's way that works well outside of the loose narrative. If only more songs in the second half were like that.

I feel conflicted with Ogdens' Nut Gone Flake. It is a case of two different-sounding halves - one that's a decent collection of psychedelic soul and rock tunes, the other a tale of fantasy that really could have used another draft. Both halves could have been fleshed out into their own individual albums, but together, it's a bit of a mess. Go through each half separately and make what you will.

My first thought when I saw it come up was why was this compilation included in the 1001 Albums book. Then I read some more and found that this was the album that broke The Hives into the UK market. It certainly bears repeating that Robert Dimery and his team are predominantly British, so for a lot of them, Your New Favourite Band was their introduction to the Swedish garage rock revival group. It wasn’t like over here in the States, where our introduction to The Hives was with the re-release of Veni Vidi Vicious.

As far as a greatest hits record for this early in the band’s career, it’s a solid outing. Obviously, the most refined-sounding tracks are the ones from Veni Vidi Vicious placed towards the front, particularly with the one-two punch of “Hate to Say I Told You So” and “Main Offender”. I certainly got a kick out of the sampling of tracks from Barely Legal and the A.K.A. I-D-I-O-T EP, with how much more frenetic and straightforward punk the band used to be in their humble beginnings. If anything, between hearing these tracks and later output like “Tick Tick Boom”, The Death of Randy Fitzsimmons, and The Hives Forever Forever The Hives, it is evident that the band has continued to evolve their sound while staying true to the theatricality and raw intensity in their performance. It kind of makes me wish we got a more updated compilation from them. Though the feeling is probably moot, as Your New Favourite Band is no longer included in subsequent editions of the book.

Still, it was a fun romp through The Hives’ early hits. Their music is certainly worth checking out.

I'll be honest - I've never seen a Bollywood film before. I am so used to Western media that I never really partaken in India's film culture. So listening to the soundtrack for the heist movie Shalimar has me feeling like an outsider looking in, even more so than I did for Shaft. With that said, what did we get with this soundtrack?

Well, I will say that composer R.D. Burman did his best to bridge the gap between Indian and Western popular music within the context of a film soundtrack. The opening theme sets the mood for the movie nicely. The action sequence of "Countess' Caper" starts with the big band swing and accompanying accordion, but gradually builds with the orchestral swell for a showdown before climaxing with the triumphant victory motif of the horns. The horns re-emerge with the lowly sitar playing and strings for the "Romantic Theme" that elicits those yearning desires. Throughout the record, there are some pleasant dance-oriented vocal tunes such as "Hum Bewafa Hargiz Na Thay", "Naag Devta", "Aaina Wohi Rehta Hai", and "Mera Pyar Shalimar" that add to the overall mystique of the presentation. I'm still having to fill in the details with my mind's interpretation of events, having never seen the film, but in the context of a movie, it would work.

The only tracks that didn't sit well for me were "One Two Cha Cha Cha" and "Baby Let's Dance Together". They both sound dated as a result of brazenly cribbing from funk and psychedelic soul that was dominant in the Western hemisphere at the time, to the point of badly interpolating KC & the Sunshine Band's "That's the Way I Like It". From what I understand, it's not uncommon for English words to be used in songs from modern Hindi movies, but these two songs in particular come off as really hokey.

Overall, my feelings for Shalimar's soundtrack are about the same as what I felt about Shaft's. Obviously, I am missing context from never having seen the film, but it is serviceable as a tie-in to the visual medium.

It's been nearly 350 albums since I heard Imperial Bedroom. I was wondering when I would get another Elvis Costello record. As it turned out, the album of his that I got today was another record rife with tensions.

Blood & Chocolate was the last album Elvis recorded with the Attractions backing band for eight years, largely due to growing antipathy between him and bassist Bruce Thomas. It certainly didn't help matters that the Attractions were sidelined for the album King of America, released earlier in the year. This increasing animosity towards both parties led to the recording sessions being done as quickly as possible, largely live in first takes. Now, it's nothing new for an act to be going through tumultuous times and still release one more good record before breaking up; Pink Floyd did it with The Wall, and Van Halen likewise with 1984. Could the same be said for Blood for Chocolate? I think so, but it's not quite great.

There certainly was a consensus to throw back to the rock and roll styling of Elvis's 1970s album run, to the point of bringing Nick Lowe back for production once more. Yet the overall sound seems noisier and looser, with distorted guitars, a punchier rhythm section, and rushed production that didn't have time to be further polished. It almost sounds like a precursor to grunge. Adding to that sentiment are the generally dark lyrics, chock full of revenge fantasies, guilt-ridden scenes, and outright spite. From the stomping obsession on "Uncomplicated" into the jealous musings on "I Hope You're Happy Now" and "Next Time Round", the snapshots of apocalyptic scenarios on "Tokyo Storm Warning", the lowly ballads of "Home Is Anywhere You Hang Your Head" and "Blue Chair", and the troubled relationships detailed in "Crimes of Paris", there's a seedy underbelly to the stories and sceneries Elvis sang about on this record.

That said, I think there is a limit to Elvis's dark lyricism. The obsessive romance in "I Want You" came off as a meandering re-tread of The Beatles' "I Want You (She's So Heavy)". The conceit of "Honey, Are You Straight or Are You Blind" seemed way too on-the-nose in describing this woman's feelings for another girl. Finally, "Poor Napoleon" was a plodding malaise in the arrangement of this song about a one-night stand, with Pogues bassist Cait O'Riordan's guest vocals being very underutilized compared to the preceding "Crimes of Paris".

Still, I think Blood and Chocolate turned out pretty good despite tensions between Elvis Costello and the Attractions. It was certainly worth a listen.

At this point, I feel like I’ve listened to enough live albums from the vinyl era where I can distill down my thoughts to, “It was a fun listen, but editing and rearranging the track list hamper my immersion into the performance.” I’m looking at the set lists from Deep Purple’s Japan 1972 shows, and it makes sense to have “Smoke on the Water” follow “Highway Star”, and close out the set with “Black Night” and “Speed King”, given the hits that the band had at the time and how they would want to present them. I can only surmise that these changes to the track order were due to the limitations of vinyl records at the time. It probably would have been difficult to press more than 21 minutes of recorded audio onto one side, which would have been the case to have say “Child in Time" and "The Mule" together in order. Hell, even later reissues struggle to hold an entire set onto a single disc. It really is a testament to how much improvisation the band employed during their live shows while maintaining a quality as close to the studio recordings as possible, right down to Ian Gillian’s soaring vocals on “Child in Time” and Jon Lord’s overdriven Hammond organ playing to open “Lazy”. Even a track like “Space Truckin’” can be stretched out to 19 minutes and maintain a kinetic energy in the band’s performance. It’s equally as impressive that no overdubs were needed for this album, a rarity for the time in which it was released.

I will say that despite the technical limitations of its release, Made in Japan was a fun live compilation that showcased the pinnacle of Deep Purple’s musical talents.

I have listened to a few Replacements songs here and there, including the single "I Will Dare," as it appeared in the ending credits of the movie Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3. I figure an album from one of the pioneering acts in alternative rock would be enjoyable, and Let It Be delivered on that expectation for the most part.

This record seems to have more grit than a lot of post-punk at the time, with Bob Stinson and Paul Westerberg’s distorted guitars that delivered some impeccable riffs, alongside an equally punchy rhythm section in Tommy Stinson and Chris Mars. Hell, they even pulled off an unexpectedly raw rendition of KISS’s “Black Diamond”. The energy only dialed back for two ballads, but even those tracks have some real gravitas to them, with the lowly piano-driven “Androgynous” and the introspective slow-burn of “Sixteen Blue”. All throughout, Paul sang with a gruff earnestness on these coming-of-age stories that ran the gamut from touching upon disenfranchised youth, taking risks, fears and anxiety with loneliness and growing old, and even references to cross-dressing and sexual confusion. It’s admittedly progressive for the time. The band even used a few tracks to take the piss off, such as lampooning the music video sensation on “Seen Your Video”, to a humorous anecdote based on bassist Tommy’s removal of his tonsils.

That said, for as much as I was enjoying this album up to this point, there was one song that was a real blight in my opinion. “Gary’s Got a Boner” soured my mood with its lyrics. While the song in principle fits in with the general adolescent themes of the record as the protagonist is questioning his own sexuality, I admittedly felt put off by the abrasive, grotesque nature of lines like “You're gonna get down, you're gonna finger to her/You're gonna fuck Madonna/You're gonna see her” and “Tell your sister just that opinion/My heartache will find a way/You're gonna stick it to her”. As I was listening to the song, I glanced back over to the track listing and saw that one of the credited writers for this track was Ted Nugent, and it unfortunately makes sense why I would be creeped out given his track record with writing songs about underage girls and sexual violence. “Sixteen Blue” and “Answering Machine” were thankfully better tracks, but by that point my mood was soured.

It’s unfortunate that there was one bad track on an otherwise solid record. I do feel like I got of mileage out of listening to The Replacements hard-hitting post-punk that explored and questioned these feelings of what it meant to become an adult. Even if I was a tad let down towards the end, I still had an overall good time with it.

I will not include the live CD bonus tracks in this review.

Blood, Sweat & Tears is one of those groups that I was only familiar with the singles. I did not realize until now how many lineup changes they went through over the years. Even just for this self-titled album, original vocalist Al Kooper left the band over artistic differences, which led to the recruitment of David Clayton-Thomas. It was the singles from David's tenure with the jazz-rock outfit that I was familiar with, which had me curious how the rest of this record would sound. Unfortunately, it seems that I wasn't missing out on much.

To be fair, I do think it was a smart choice on the group's part to bring in David, as he is quite the belter. He had such bravado in his vocal performance that he helped make the most out of these big-band style arrangements, particularly on the original songs "More and More" and especially "Spinning Wheel". Though that said, I also even dug the more serene "Sometimes in Winter", with Steve Katz's reserved delivery nestled alongside Dick Halligan's elegant flute playing and the softer brass passages. It's a nice, quieter stew amidst the louder, poppier tunes.

Now, this is the part where I have to make clear that I just covered all of the original songs on this album, as the rest are covers and renditions of existing songs. This is where the quality is all over the place. At the top echelon is the cover of Brenda Holloway's "You've Made Me So Very Happy", which is bursting with such joy from David's vocals alongside the horn accompaniment, while also balanced with Halligan's thoughtful organ playing. Next tier down are the covers of Traffic's "Smiling Phases" and Billie Holiday's "God Bless the Child", which are about on par with the originals. Then there's the cover of Laura Nyro's "And When I Die", which is fine, though I will admit that Laura had a better vocal performance on her own track than David did, plus I wasn't much into the added harmonica on this rendition. Following that are how this album is bookended by variations on themes from French composer Erik Satie's Trois Gymnopédies, which can be chalked up to easy-listening instrumental fluff that, at best, felt incongruent to the rest of the album. Which leaves the worst song being the "Blues - Part II" medley, and it was a chore to listen to, as it was the kind of mostly instrumental jam that mindlessly wandered without any sense of direction or build towards a meaningful conclusion. Only towards the end did the band feel the need to incorporate some blues melodies, as the horns blared out the riff to Cream's "Sunshine of Your Love" without any subtlety, to headache-inducing results. David did come back to sing in the last minute or so, but by that point, the damage was done. Any momentum this record built up by the end of "You've Made Me So Very Happy" was effectively neutered.

At the end of the day, I am content with the notion that Blood, Sweat & Tears may just be a singles act. I can enjoy the hits, maybe one or two other songs, and not much else after that.

I've never heard of Grizzly Bear before. From what I gather, they're an indie psychedelic folk group out of Brooklyn, New York, initially started as a solo project by keyboardist Edward Droste before expanding into a full band. For their third studio record, Veckatimest, they went for a more refined sound, incorporating elements of chamber pop while also looking to be more straightforward in their impressionist lyrics.

Between the prominent vocal harmonies, breezy guitar strumming, and intricate use of strings and woodwinds, the Pet Sounds-era Beach Boys influence is apparent. They're certainly more laid-back and schmaltzy in the presentation, as Droste and Daniel Rossen exchanged lead vocal duties, both offering musings on faltering relationships, self-control, and the passage of time. I can see the appeal as they opted for more ethereal textures, which can work on a cut like "Dory", and those vocal harmonies were engaging. Not to mention some strong singles like "Two Weeks" and "While You Wait for Others" helped set the overall poppier tone, and the album is at least bookended reasonably well.

Yet, I found this album lacking in solid hooks or grooves. It's not as if the band was playing badly, but most of these compositions don't quite coalesce or crescendo into something more grandiose, especially if the lyrics are going to be largely observational without making any bigger statement. Also, for as much as they leaned into the chamber pop direction, this album could have benefited from more excessive instrumentation to build up the atmospherics. I think back to Fleet Foxes' self-titled record on my album journey, and that album boasted more ambience, song structure, and cohesive messaging.

I wanted to like Veckatimest more, cause again I can see the appeal for Grizzly Bear. I don't know if this album will grow on me, and I'm not sure I have as much incentive to revisit.

I will not include the CD reissue bonus tracks in this review.

I've heard of Fela Kuti before, but never sat down to listen to his music until now. I recognized his influence as the principal pioneer of Afrobeat, a genre rooted in West African rhythms and melody with the harmonic nature of funk and soul, and the improvisations of jazz. What I did not learn until now was his political strife, a torch he carried from his mother, women's rights activist Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti. During the 1970s, Fela and his backing band, Africa '70, recorded and released several records with striking political commentary, inspiring his audience to stand up against the oppressive military-controlled Nigerian government. Tensions reached a boiling point with the success of this record, Zombie, which infuriated the government to the point of burning down Fela's commune and fatally injuring his mother. Given the content and messaging of this record, it's hard not to see the spark.

Relentless, upbeat sonic jams of chicken-scratching guitars, blaring baritone saxophones, and shuffling percussion establish an enlightened identity minutes before Fela and his backing vocalists came in with their call-and-response. It is such an immaculate groove that they had in their pocket that they could maintain this energy for over 12 minutes each track. Not to mention how hard-hitting the lyrics were, using the zombie metaphor on the title track to criticize the Nigerian military's blindness as they followed corrupt orders, and "Mr. Follow Follow"'s doubling down on that theme while also suggesting to open one's eyes and realize the error of their ways. An opportunity to think critically in the face of propaganda and political division, should they choose. Both tracks were equally hypnotic and biting in their compositions and lyrical content, and I could sympathize with Fela's plight.

Yet I've wrestled with this record longer than I expected, because it's only the two tracks. This was not the only time in Fela's discography that an album had only one or two tracks, which I noticed when checking out Confusion and Expensive Shit on the same day. I was contemplating whether it was a problem that I wanted more out of a single record. Perhaps there was a necessity to get these tracks out as quickly as possible, given the presumed limitations of recording technology at the time and the oppressive government that loomed around the corner. It would have been hard to know when the last record would truly be the last, whether getting arrested for dubious reasons, or getting raided because the government was looking to censor, but would claim otherwise. But then another thought came to my mind; perhaps a fire was lit inside me from listening to these records that ignited that desire to hear more. It certainly feels resonant these days to partake in art that expresses a free spirit against political tyranny. Maybe that's the takeaway I should have.

That, to me, is how powerful and poignant Zombie is as a record, and I'm glad to have finally sat down and understood Fela Kuti's legacy.

I've heard of Aphex Twin, the alias of Richard D. James. He's a British electronic composer/DJ who's often considered a pioneer of experimental techno music. In fact, this debut album compiles the works he's committed to tape since he was a teenager back in 1985, using homemade equipment made from synths and drum machines.

For as much as this album claims to be a collection of "ambient works" in its title, it's a bit more hard-hitting than typical ambient music. There are moments on this record where some genuinely pulsing electronic club rhythms are snuck in between the atmospheric textures, such as on the opener "Xtal", the uptempo beats of "Pulsewidth", the low-key swagger of "Ageispolis" with its glistening synth line, and especially the squelches present on "Green Calx". There is some fun, cerebral electronic music on this record that evokes the feeling of keeping the energy lingering after hitting the dancefloor, if ever so slightly.

Yet, there are some hangups I have with this record. For starters, this is ostensibly a compilation of tracks chosen by Richard's mates, with no meaningful arrangement or cohesive flow, which can make the nearly 75-minute runtime a tad daunting. I wouldn't say every track aged well, where I feel that tracks like "I" and "We Are the Music Makers" could have been fleshed out more. Then again, these were composed by Richard over the span of seven years outside of his DJ sets at Cornwall.

In a sense, it may be best to regard Selected Ambient Works 85-92 as a sonic chronicle of Richard's self-taught music learning. For what it's worth, his work under the Aphex Twin moniker this early on is commendable and shows the potential for his later output.

I will not include the bonus instrumental version of "Cool in the Pool" in this review.

It's a good thing I went through both Can records first, because now I recognize bassist Holger Czukay and how integral he was to the group, as his recording and tape-editing skills helped define their sound. However, that didn't stop Czukay from being sidelined by the band for creative differences and his limited ability on the bass guitar. Thus, he left Can in 1977 to pursue a solo career, with Movies serving as his debut.

The best way I could describe Movies is as a sound collage, influenced by the musique concrète work of Stockhausen, whom Czukay previously studied under. The core sound is an oddball combination of electronic textures and media samples accumulated over several months of listening on the radio. In a sense, this was one of the first records to make use of sampling, with limited presence from Czukay's bass and talkative vocals, the spare layered synths he added, and the cerebral drumwork of fellow Can alum Jaki Liebezeit. I respect the intent of this record, even if I don't find myself fully gelling with it.

"Cool in the Pool" was a tad limp in the synth-heavy funk romp, only made interesting by the occasional whir of radio samples. "Oh Lord, Give Us More Money" saw other Can alums Michael Karoli and Irmin Schmidt join in the extended instrumental jam, only hampered by Czukay's occasional shouting vocals that can be headache-inducing. Probably the most realized track of the four here was "Persian Love", where I was intrigued by the pairing of the sampled Iranian vocalist with the soft guitar and synth accompaniment. Finally, "Hollywood Symphony" opted for a near-cinematic feel in the presentation with spacious synth textures and noodling guitar that does come off as a journey into the unknown, even if it is more wandering than focused.

That does lead me to my ultimate conceit with Movies, which is that it is a collection of experiments, largely foregoing compositional structure in Czukay's pursuit of forming these sound collages with gathered audio recordings. He certainly accomplished what he set out to do, and the result was that he pioneered a production technique. But little else is given to the instrumental or lyrical writing other than trying to capture an atmosphere. Sampling had to start somewhere, and I am grateful to Holger Czukay for ushering in a new era of music, even as I feel we've come a long way from this.

Full disclosure - I feel like I'm still fairly new when it comes to grime. I heard Dizzee Rascal's Boy in da Corner earlier in my album journey, and I've also heard "Thiago Silva" by Dave and AJ Tracy. That's largely it. With that in mind, I'm going into emcee/rapper/producer Skepta's fourth album, Konnichiwa, with the understanding that it helped spark a resurgence in a genre that I have limited knowledge of. How does it hold up?

Honestly, I'd say this record is pretty solid. Skepta worked double duty for the majority of this record, crafting such hard-hitting, vibrant beats and synth lines while he took the mic to deliver some catchy-as-sin hooks and fiery bars. I certainly got an understanding of his work ethic on the likes of the opening title track, "Lyrics", "Numbers", "Man", and "Detox", riding the grind while maintaining integrity and self-worth. Along the way, his stories of street life on cuts like "Corn on the Curb", "Crime Riddim", and "It Ain't Safe" go into some gripping detail while highlighting his own insecurities, keeping himself calm amidst perceived adversities. Probably my favorite tracks on the record were the one-two punch of "Shutdown" and "That's Not Me" with JME, delivering on all the hype while showcasing his self-respect and giving shout-outs to Boy Better Know, the grime collective he belongs to.

That said, for as much as Skepta delivered on the braggadocious firepower, I can't say the same for when he tries to dip into a more sensual side. "Ladies Hit Club" and the closer "Text Me Back" don't really work because he's going way too aggressively in his flow in describing how he's going to please this girl or explain why he doesn't always reach back to her because he's just that busy with the grind. It certainly doesn't help that both of those tracks offered the weakest production on the record, with "Ladies Hit Club" having compositional similarities to Drake's "Hotline Bling" and "Text Me Back" having this warbly, reversed synth and electronic flurries that also go too hard for this tone. At least "Text Me Back" is somewhat saved by a decent instrumental outro. Finally, even though Pharrell Williams did well on the production and hook for "Numbers", his verse definitely reads like a last-minute addition, between the lame-duck flexing and brand-name porn.

All in all, I consider Konnichiwa to be a good record. It's an excellent showcase for Skepta as a producer and emcee, delivering some potent bars and beats.

I admittedly have a love/hate relationship with KISS. I acknowledge that they had some fun, cheesy hard rock records from the 1970s up to 1982, before the band members took off their makeup and became every other glam metal band at the time. By the time they put the makeup back on, some of the magic was lost, as the band accepted their place as a legacy act, hellbent on extensive touring and merchandise. Also not helping matters was how much of an asshole bassist Gene Simmons turned out to be. Regardless, I come back to my first point, that they made some fun, cheesy hard rock records back in the day. If someone were to include such an album in their list of records to listen to before you die, it would probably be this one.

Destroyer was a turning point for KISS, because they just had a commercial breakthrough with their live album Alive!, and to capitalize on the momentum, they brought in producer Bob Ezrin to take their sound to the next level. Now, Bob had previously worked with one of the band's influences, Alice Cooper, who at this point launched a successful solo career with Welcome to My Nightmare. If Bob could revitalize Alice's trajectory, he could do the same for KISS, and he put the band to task. He rejected most of the band's demos, as other outside songs and suggestions were brought in instead. He introduced them to orchestration, sound effects, and other such production techniques that were lacking in the group's first three studio albums. He even taught them basic music theory, because KISS were that inexperienced as musicians. As a result, Destroyer was the most refined sound you could get out of them, and it shows.

There are some genuinely good rockin' tunes on this record, bolstered by the elevated songwriting and production. The opening "Detroit Rock City" sets the tone with electrifying riffs and basslines, with sound effects adding to the story of a man getting killed in a vehicle accident on their way to a show. From there, the bangers continued with the likes of "King of the Night Time World", "Sweet Pain", "Shout It Out Loud", "Do You Love Me", and even "Flaming Youth" with the use of a calliope in the hook. They even include a decent ballad in "Beth", as drummer Peter Criss took the helm with an earnest vocal delivery over the accompanying New York Philharmonic orchestra and Bob Ezrin's delicate piano playing. It is genuinely amazing how they pulled off such a sincere moment.

That all said, this album is not perfect by any means. It is still a hard rock record about rock 'n' roll and sex, and your mileage will vary. For me, I felt I reached my threshold with "Great Expectations", with Gene singing about what he thinks this woman wants to do to him as a choir of children sang behind him on the hook. Yes, it is that skeevy. It certainly didn't help matters when the choir of "Great Expectations" returned for the hidden track "Rock and Roll Party" with the repetitive overdubbed vocals. Finally, for as much as Bob Ezrin did a good job with cleaning up the band's sound and introducing them to new production techniques, I can't stand the children screaming and making noises on "God of Thunder". If they weren't on the track, then it easily would have been my favorite song on the album. At least White Zombie and Death had the sense not do that for their covers.

At the end of the day, I still had an overall good time with Destroyer. It is the finest hour that KISS ever had, and it certainly spoke to how getting the right producer matters. Now, if only the band members could rest on their laurels...

I've previously mentioned Senegalese singer-songwriter Youssou N'Dour appearing as a guest backing vocalist for Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes". In fact, he's one of the most notable artists from Senegal and Africa at large to crossover internationally, to the point of being his home country's Minister of Tourism for a brief time. Not only that, but Youssou is also credited with developing the musical style of mbalax, which is urban dance accompanied by polyrhythmic drumming on the traditional sabar instrument. It's a cultural bridge between the identity of the indigenous folks of the Greater Senegambia region and the urban panethnic identity that arose during colonialism, and that much is apparent on the album Immigrés.

The heartfelt singing in the native tongue about immigrant pride and embracing cultural heritage, the languid guitar playing amidst the complex percussive rhythms, and the occasional horn embellishments made for such a comforting listen that could also be danced to. I can hear the earnest dedication to the songcraft in Youssou's delivery, and the harmonious chants and instrumentation surrounding him. It makes me wish that I could find the lyrics to "Taaw" and "Badou", as I feel like I'm missing context from the record. Not helping matters is that the grainy production could have been cleaned up a bit, and the keyboards sound buried in the mix. I understand that the percussion is the primary element of this music, and it is well done, but perhaps there could have been a better balance of all involved sounds.

Nevertheless, I did enjoy Immigrés as another enriching cultural experience for my album journey. Youssor N'Dour deserved the notoriety he got from sharing his country's cultural roots.

Oh, I was not expecting to get this album so soon. I was hoping to get it towards the end of my journey through the albums in the books, but beggars can't be choosers. Anyways...

Abbey Road is an album that I'm probably gonna struggle to contextualize in my own way. What new insight could I possibly give to an album that, as of the time of writing this review, is sitting in the top three albums over on the Global Stats page, sandwiched between Rumours and Dark Side of the Moon? I expressed similar difficulties when reviewing Dark Side before. As for Rumours, I acknowledged that the record could be considered overrated while still addressing why I enjoyed it. Both those sentiments are true with Abbey Road as well, with how prolific the songs, George Martin's production, the album artwork, and every other tidbit surrounding it have maintained this enduring legacy. Hell, Billy Preston got a lot of notoriety for his Hammond organ playing on "Something" and "I Want You (She's So Heavy)". There's not much about this record that hasn't been covered extensively over five-and-a-half decades at this point, so I'm going to simply state that yes, this album is worth all the hype.

I know an album is good when I find myself singing along and air jamming to every single track, from the opening notes of "Come Together" to even the goofy little coda of "Her Majesty". It's genuinely amazing how the band tiptoed the line between serious and silly lyrical tones on this record. One second, I'm deep into the crescendoing white noise of "I Want You (She's So Heavy)", the next I'm welcomed into the warm, jovial folk-pop of "Here Comes the Sun". No better is this tide of shifting moods and compositions more apparent than the 16-minute medley from "You Never Give Me Your Money" to "The End", near-cinematic in execution. All along the way, every note and vocal line was played and captured with such pristine quality, full of memorable hooks and solos that still feel fun to listen to all these years later.

I could go on, but the point is clear that I enjoyed Abbey Road all the way through. Even if this isn't the last album because Let It Be exists, it does feel like one of the last times that the Beatles overcame their own personal conflicts with each other to make something truly magical.