Reviews by callimar

Another Leonard Cohen album - and to be honest, it doesn't sound exactly like the others. On “Songs From A Room,” too, he recites his poems to accompanying music, but here, at least, it seems as though the lyrics and music were conceived together to some extent.
Still, this album, too, shows first and foremost that Leonard Cohen wasn't a particularly good singer. And I still don't understand why so many of his albums are on the list.

Experimental, right? Normally, this category would bring to mind something that’s somehow surprising, jarring, or unsettling… Instead, on “Emperor Tomato Ketchup,” Stereolab delivers a series of semi-electronic tracks that are so monotonous that literally any 3-second sequence from them could be used as a ringtone. The slightly livelier “The Noise Of Carpet” stands out just a bit, but at best reaches the status of a solid track.
If Stereolab hadn’t happened to be founded in London, Robert Dimery certainly would never have heard of them. That wouldn’t have been such a bad thing.

It wasn’t until I’d listened to 300 albums that I actually realized Robert Dimery’s mission with his book *1001 Albums* is to demonstrate the greatness of British musicianship over the ages. There’s hardly any other explanation for why a total of seven albums by Morrissey and The Smiths are included - none of which, however, are better than mediocre.
Especially in the ’90s, the British scene had fallen somewhat behind internationally, and “Vauxhall and I” must have sounded really odd back in 1994. Instead of being contemporary, this is… well, what exactly? Weird singer-songwriter stuff that wasn’t cool in any decade I’m familiar with - not really bad, but dead boring.
Interestingly, before this project, I didn’t know who Morrissey was, which I’d previously considered a gap in my education. Good to know that’s not the case and that I can continue to skip him in the future.

I actually remembered Sade with a rather negative connotation. I can't say why that was, because at least “Diamond Life” is a really strong smooth jazz album that, beneath its highly polished surface, offers beautiful ideas, precise grooves, and an excellent voice.
Everyone probably knows “Smooth Operator”, but that song in particular isn’t all that subtle. After listening to the whole record, I actually consider it the weakest track on the entire album.
For some, it’s elevator music; for others, a masterpiece of understated elegance. I definitely count myself among the latter group.

One reviewer writes that people don’t understand this album because they weren’t living in the UK in the early 1980s. Well, both this reviewer and the editor seem to believe that a significant portion of humanity lives in the UK. This misconception, of course, explains why - at least in my summary - British albums rank the lowest.
I knew The The only by name, and their album “Infected” won’t exactly leave a lasting impression on me either. It contains pretty generic ’80s pop-rock - call it post-punk, new wave, or whatever, for all I care. The only thing that really stands out is the extraordinarily ugly cover - is that art or is it rubbish?

I’ve written many times before that I can’t quite wrap my head around the selection of the 1,001 albums. And then, on the other hand, there are recordings that show why someone has become a legend - like Elton John’s “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” - and it’s for revelations like these that I’m on board with this project! To be honest, there’s a lot of glittery stuff here, and not all of it is gold - but Elton shows himself here as a rocker, progressive, soft-pop, soulful, and it all comes together to make sense and shows… well, exactly how Elton John became Elton John.
My three stars for “Madman Across the Waters” were perhaps a bit stingy; now I can give "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" a generous five.

This is exactly what a singer-songwriter album should be like! I was familiar with Carole King as a composer, but on *Tapestry* she really does showcase her songs perfectly: vocals, arrangements, production - everything fits together. She does so without any frills; for the most part, we hear just her voice and the piano. And when a song needs more - drums, bass, guitar, strings, organ - then that’s what you get. And if not, then not - that’s probably the greater achievement.
Singling out individual songs doesn’t make much sense - they’re all strong. Like I said: that’s how it’s done! It can be that simple.

Janelle Monáe’s “The ArchAndroid” can easily be described as the soundtrack for a “Metropolis” musical in the style of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s “Hamilton” - including the song played in reverse (“Neon Gumbo”).
However, it’s important to note that Janelle Monáe has a much broader stylistic range - the second half of “The ArchAndroid” in particular is quite diverse - and her album is five years older than the premiere of “Hamilton.” It’s a real shame that I hadn’t heard of her before - this lady really has what it takes!

“Haunted Dancehall” - oh, really? To me, that sounds more like perfectly ordinary dancehall without any distinctive features or highlights. Or was that perhaps exactly what they meant by “haunted”?
Hmm, let’s try to figure this out: “The Sabres of Paradise” clearly refers to the razor on the cover - so “Dancehall” here probably refers to the barbershop, which is also paradise. OK, and it’s haunted - by boring electronic music? Or is that a metaphor for the (presumably dull) knife - or rather, its improper use?
And what’s the deal with that disturbingly precise claim that this is the 47th best album of 1994? I mean, how many relevant albums were released in 1994? Were there more than 47? Maybe even fewer?
So many questions - depending on the context, either oral sex should follow now or a cut to a very serious-looking man behind a desk talking about something completely different...
I can’t take this anymore.

Andy Warhol created some truly iconic album covers - alongside “Sticky Fingers,” this one is probably the best known. I still find the idea of incorporating tactile elements - in this case, the banana peel - into the cover particularly striking (even though there have been many imitators since then, though none nearly as successful).
Consequently, the Velvet Underground - already generating so much visual buzz - also enlisted a supermodel to accompany them in the studio and on stage.
There’s music on the album, too, but in my view, it doesn’t even come close to matching the image I just described. Lou Reed’s outlandish ideas come through here pretty much unfiltered, which doesn’t sound nearly as good as that sentence does. Large sections are original, but by no means catchy. And Nico? Well, she certainly isn’t singing on the album because of her brilliant vocal technique...
My recommendation: while listening to “Sunday Morning,” slowly peel the banana, drink an espresso, smoke something if you like, and then switch to a later Lou Reed album in good time!

An interesting question with these reviews is always to what extent one should take the historical context into account. Take, for example, this album, “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge: on the one hand, it’s so quintessentially ’70s disco that it just sounds completely cheesy at first. But beneath that, you’ll find an outstanding vocal group that combines R&B and funk into something (at the time) new - and even borrowed the groove machine (in the form of Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards - and, to be fair, Tony Thompson as well) from Chic.
Ultimately, as is so often the case, we’re in the “actually pretty cool, but after a few songs it gets predictable - 3.5 stars” league here. Yesterday I gave the Beatles a very solid three for a comparable album (Hard Day’s Night) - today, it’s probably time for a narrow four again. This ambiguity is probably unavoidable

My parents claimed to be big Beatles fans, but as far as I can remember, that didn’t really show in the music they listened to. When they did play something, though, it tended to be their early work - and “A Hard Day’s Night” definitely counts among those.
Given these songs, though, I couldn’t understand Beatlemania at all, and even today it doesn’t exactly blow me away. From my perspective, it’s simply a good singer-songwriter album with rather shallow lyrics, but pretty good production.
It’s worth a listen, but in the context of this project, it serves more as a comparison along the lines of “look how boring the Beatles were before Sgt. Pepper.”

This review will be quick, because KLF - and especially “The White Room” - was constantly playing at parties in the very early ’90s. I didn’t like the music back then - and after giving it a quick listen, I can confirm that hasn’t changed. Admittedly, “Justified and Ancient” is pretty catchy - though in a children’s song kind of way, as was typical of the ’90s dance floor. At least KLF can boast that they helped shape that sound.

I like Stevie Wonder, but of course even he doesn’t have an endless number of albums that are true classics. In my opinion, “Fulfillingness’ First Finale” is quite clearly the weakest of the four Stevie Wonder albums listed here, and I probably wouldn’t have included it in this list. That’s not to say it’s bad by any means, but it just doesn’t have those standout moments like, for example, “Superstition.” For me, it’s a very clear four stars.

The linked Wikipedia articles are sometimes interesting - though what’s particularly revealing is what isn’t included there. What the article on Girls Against Boys’ “Venus Luxure No. 1 Baby” doesn’t include:
- Background information on the concept and the music
- Information on the cover art
- Chart positions
- Links to individual songs
- Translations into more than two languages (why Hungarian, of all languages?)
- References to best-of lists (except, of course, “1001 Albums...”)

It’s also worth noting that I wasn’t familiar with this album - not many alternative bands managed to achieve that in the early ’90s. I think - and listening to it confirms this - that this speaks for itself.

Oh, another Elvis Costello album—and once again, it doesn't win me over. After “My Aim Is True” (immature) and “Brutal Youth” (I still don’t know if that was supposed to be a parody), I’d speculated that he might have been good in the meantime—and indeed, “Blood And Chocolate,” that weird adaptation of *Napoleon Dynamite*, is less bad than the early and late work of Declan Patrick MacManus. We’re not really talking about “good” here yet (or, now that I’ve explored Costello’s best works independently of this project: not anymore), but there are some good song ideas, and his voice is still fantastic. But as with “Brutal Youth,” more input from the producer could have improved things quite a bit—I won’t go into detail again.
And once again, the question arises: why is every piece of trash from certain artists on the list, while true legends have been completely overlooked in some cases...

Judging by the global reviews, this is one of the worst albums on the list. I can understand that impression, because what Robert Wyatt and company offer here really is “rock bottom” - in the sense that it really can’t get any worse. In addition to the completely inaccessible compositions, his extremely annoying vocals play a major role in this.
I’m sure I could find some positive aspects if I were to focus on this album for a few hours. But I have neither the desire nor the time to do so.

I can still clearly remember hearing “Appetite for Destruction” for the first time when I was 11 or 12: that was the moment that changed my life—at least when it came to anything related to music. Guns N’ Roses sounded completely different from anything I’d heard before: complex and virtuosic, yet at the same time raw and rebellious—and in my opinion, there’s never been a combination like that, either before or since, that came anywhere close to that level. Since then, I’ve played every note of that album, and yet I still discover new details time and again. On the surface, of course, you notice Axl’s unusual voice and Slash’s solos, but it really gets interesting when you dig a little deeper: Slash impresses far more with his riffs, and the wild asynchronies with Duff’s bass create the ghost notes for a truly unique groove monster (note e.g., the different accents by bass and guitar in the "Rocket Queen" Main Riff); but in my view, what’s most underrated about this band to this day is their masterful use of harmonic complexities and key changes.
There’s a lot more that could be said on this topic, but my point is: despite their enormous commercial success, Guns N’ Roses are probably one of the most underrated bands in rock history, and it’s actually a shame that the “Use Your Illusion” albums (which explore the unique harmonic ideas far beyond what's shown here) didn’t make it onto this list.
Obviously off the scale, but I couldn’t find a way to rate it higher than five stars.

According to the album title, Red Snapper’s aim is to satisfy. Well, they don’t quite succeed, but the way they fail is remarkable. I read on Wikipedia that real musicians contributed to this record, though that’s not apparent in most of the tracks. The production is so over-the-top that the original musicians' input practically plays no role at all. Opinions on this may vary; mine is that the core element of art—namely, people expressing themselves—has been lost. The result doesn’t move me in the slightest.
I have better things to do than hearing this album before I die.

I still have a hard time taking purely electronic music seriously. Acts like Underworld, who don't even have a real singer, don't make it any easier. Their album “Second Toughest In The Infants” consists of various kinds of ringtones, which are, at least, layered in a rhythmically coherent way. Is that a creative achievement? I don't think so.