Reviews by funny_character

What a way to celebrate my 365th album; with this asshole.The paradox of Morrissey is that his personality and beliefs are so frustrating because he has some great art. If he didn't, then his whole deal wouldn't be frustrating, it would just be laughable. So Viva Hate, released mere months after The Smiths concluded, ends up prodding at an interesting question: when billed on his own, is Morrissey still talented enough to be frustrating. The Smiths were a truly great band insofar as a great band is capable of creating a unique whole by reconciling (or emohasizing) differences between the unique, distinct people going into it. Morrissey's presence and poetry was just as important as Johnny Marr's guitar (some of the best, ever, in indie), Andy Rourke's bass lines, and Mike Joyce holding it down on drums. But, as it turns out, even without The Smiths, Viva Hate is very enjoyable. Although, a lot of that is still admittedly the other players here.In particular, Vini Reilly's great guitar work, which easily navigates between melodic indie chords, post-punk strumming, and stealing solos. As well as Stephen Street's bass playing, and guitar work. Also, it has largely been confirmed that Street did a *lot* of the songwriting on Viva Hate, so make of that what you will. Although, Morrissey himself is in great form too. His presence is as powerful as it was on The Smiths' records. And he has some really striking, darkly beautiful lyrics speckled across here, most prominently on Angel Angel Down We Go Together and Late Night, Maudlin Street. But I think the songs here where everything comes together best are the (relatively) popular Suedehead, and I Don't Mind If You Forget Me, which almost ends up sounding like an alternate universe's invention of pop-punk. Although, honestly, what brings this down the most is that it still kind of can't compete with The Smiths. Also, Morrissey has some pretty songs, but the reasons that make him insufferable are kind of bubbling below the surface here. Ultimately, Viva Hate is a little spotty, but it *is* a worthwhile endeavor for any Smiths fan.

While I do not think The War On Drugs is one of the more interesting indie bands from the 2010s, there is something here. Lost In The Dream is clearly supposed to be a kind of immersive, dreamy experience, and it is, sometimes. Lengthy, atmospheric indie songs abound here, and it's possible that I just need to spend more time with this band, but a lot of the time, these songs seem overlong, and I'm not sure the songwriting here can support this album's atmosphere. But every once in a while, Lost In The Dream manages to suck me in for just long enough that I can kind of see what they were going for here. There is something kind of compellingly beautiful and a little sad here. But too often, the full picture feels like a slog. I can see myself revisiting this album, but at the moment, I just don't know if I can go too high here. For everything cool that happens, there's some meandering that I can't really connect with, and the cumulative effect is on again, off again.

Mudhoney end up positing a kind of interesting question on this EP; "If you're one of the most influential bands for one of the most influential bands ever, are you one of the most influential bands ever?". I think the answer ends up being kind of, but probably not. But regardless, if it's any consolation, this was one of Kurt Cobain's favorite albums, and it is, in it's original, 6 song form (*a lot* of reissues on this thing), basically a perfect grunge release. I will also say that while Superfuzz Bigmuff may not be the first grunge album, it does feel like the first real "before and after" moment for the genre since Melvins, Green River and others kind of melded into grunge a couple years prior. Superfuzz Bigmuff is pretty much everything that grunge would really become in the '90s. It is the genre's punk energy and ethos, pop songwriting and alternative sound. With occasional detours into twangy and even sludgey places too. This was probably the most solidly definitional example of what grunge is. It's also grunge's last minor breakout before Nirvana happened and kind of changed the ballgame. All that being said, the 23 minutes on the original release here are fun, chaotic and as surprisingly well written as the genre's hits. The fuzz tone is filthy and electrifying, and the performances are edge of your seat. There's hardly a thing to complain about here, although I may save the 5 star. The length here is really a blessing and a curse here. But I am hopeful for Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge.

The first, and in my opinion, greatest of the Berlin trilogy, Low is David Bowie's first collaboration with Brian Eno. And I will say, it sure sounds like they hit it off well. As with "Heroes", to which this truly feels like a sister album both artists bring something really special out of each other. Eno pushes Bowie's sound in a more textural, avant-garde direction, and Bowie provides a huge, grandiose, cinematic quality to Eno's more cerebral tendencies. And the result is, as with "Heroes", a side of art rock and a side of textural ambient pieces. The former glisten and mutate, threatening to alternatively become hits, or leave orbit, but never really doing either, and capturing this unique tension in amber. I think the two greatest songs on this side may be Sound & Vision, which is *unbelievably* catchy, and A New Career In A New Town, which kind of feels like a reflection of where David Bowie was at the time; he had fallen apart, changed location and re-invented himself. But the skronked out funk of Breaking Glass, and the fascinating textures of What In The World are also worth noting (although frankly, every song on the side is immaculate). Then side two is the ambient pieces; Warszawa, Art Decade, Weeping Wall, and Subterraneans are all *fantastic*, essential explorations into mood and texture. Warszawa and Subterraneans even make room for some incredibly striking vocals. But this whole side seems to effectively hint at the sadness tugging at Europe in the aftermath of World War 2, and the pieces on this side all have a well-realized, deeply centered emotional core. Low is the kind of extremely detailed, complex album that manages to sound so simple while you listen to it. It all just makes sense, it seems so natural. But what's here is completely daring and fascinating, and Low, as it's own weird little package ends up among Bowie's greatest, and most deeply resonant albums.

KIWANUKA is a legitimately transformative take on soul music, which alone makes it worth the price of admission. But it also happens to be very good. Michael Kiwanuka effortlessly merges the warmth of vintage soul records with contemporary songwriting and production ideas in a way that is original, tasteful and very enjoyable. This album feels heartfelt and beautiful, to the point of being occasionally mesmerizing. And Michael Kiwanuka's deeply personal lyrics ground KIWANUKA in a place that feels deeply human.

I'm always glad to see some lesbian representation on the list, even if it's a touch rare. But k.d. lang is one of the most iconic lesbians in popular music, so the list chose well. While I think k.d. lang has greater and more interesting albums in her discography, Shadowland is still full of great stuff. This is a pretty straight forward country album that is played earnestly, and presented with a tenderness. There are incredibly sweet country love songs (that I find a little more relatable than usual), and some mopey country weepers too. She isn't re-inventing the wheel, but she is showing the power that is still in the iconic country sound of what would have been, even then, years past. And delivering that sound with a character that is entirely her own.

This album is almost exactly what it proclaims to be. This is, approximately, rock music, and bongos live at the heart of it. It is also pretty good. Cool bongos, cool songs, and more abound. This was also a fun reunion with Apache, a song that I played a lot in high school pep band. But yeah, I don't have a lot to say to this. It is groovy, fun, and rockin, and there are bongos. The bongos, admittedly, feel a little like a gimmick, the word bongo is in literally every song name. But this is also only 33-ish minutes long, so it doesn't overstay it's welcome.

Edit: Not changing my rating, but of additional note, is that this album is of deep cultural significance to Hip-Hop. This has been estimated to be, perhaps, the most sampled album ever, and even just on a first listen, I noticed the break at the end of Last Bongo In Belgium is used extensively on Looking Down The Barrel Of A Gun by The Beastie Boys. See if you can find any more. Regardless, it's kind of a neat second life for this odd little album.

I have no idea how this band **EVER** got a hit. It of course happened in the same way that nearly every weird, established underground band did in the '90s, everyone was looking for the next Nirvana, and bands that Cobain liked were first on the list to get a chance in the sun. But the problem was that Cobain's taste in music was *incredibly* cool, and I don't think the label executives ever really even came *close* to getting it. And of all the bands that got a chance, Butthole Surfers may be the weirdest. I know what you're thinking, "their '90s stuff isn't that weird", and honestly it isn't. But anything from Locust Abortion Technician and earlier is a totally different ballgame. And Locust Abortion Technician was the culmination of all of it. The album is basically ~30 minutes of some of the most fucked up, genuinely twisted audio experiments most people will ever be exposed to. The thing sounds sick, as in unwell. Human Cannonball is the most listenable we get, and even it remains somewhat challenging. But everything else here is chewed up, slowed down, distorted, and much, much worse. It is punk taken to a deeply psychedelic place. The first song is mostly just the Black Sabbath Sweet Leaf riff played at incorrect speed, and slathered in Gibby Haynes vocals treated with his unmistakable "Gibbytronics", which was the effects device he used to fuck his vocals up as badly as possible. Gibbytronics are used to great effect on pretty much every song here. Graveyard (Not to be confused with Graveyard) sounds like a sludge 45rpm single played at 33rpm. It plods, and melts and sputters, and the vocals are an unintelligable, pitch shifted mush, in short, it's a fantastic song. U.S.S.A is also noteworthy for sounding a way that I don't think anything else ever has. An exciting new magic also reveals itself on the songs the really push music the farthest past what most people think it should, or even can sound like. Hey is structured like a joke that's kind of funny, then isn't funny, then becomes extremely funny. But compared to Kuntz, it is a mere footnote. Kuntz is built around a mauled sample of Thai folk song Klua Duang, performed by Phloen Phromdaen and Kong Katkamngae, and I cannot effectively describe how this song sounds through writing. But every song here is noteworthy for sounding baffling, disturbing, funny, and frightening, usually at the same time. This is a real landmark for those willing to make the plunge, and it is utterly original, exciting, and *truly*, *uncommonly*, bizarre.

While I do somewhat struggle to connect with early soul recordings, I am willing to accept that as my problem, not Sam Cooke's. Although, this is definitely a good time. This has many of the draws of other live albums by similarly talented performers from this time. Sam Cooke pretty much has the whole venue eating out of the palm of his hand at all times, and the energy he gives off, and that the audience returns does create a sort of invisible, palpable bond that this recording captures. That being said, I don't have a particularly strong connection to the music here, although it is certainly powerful and joyful, *and* well performed. I appreciate this most as a document of an event, and it serves this purpose incredibly well.

The first Pavement song I ever fell in love with was Stop Breathin, which is admittedly kind of a strange one. But I was immediately struck by the organic guitar work, the understated tone, and the sadness that permeates the song. And since then, I've been on again, off again with Pavement. Sometimes it hits, sometimes it doesn't. But I think I may finally be all the way there with Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain. This is the full realization of the '90s slacker rock attitude. Pavement play it loose, but *never* lazy. No matter how sloppy Pavement get, it never feels like things are gonna fall apart. There is a confidence and self-assuredness to the sloppiness that Pavement just *owns*. The tone across this is fluid, these songs feel like hits, but Pavement has an absolute command of when sadness needs to overtake the album. It ends up as the best of both worlds. These are incredible pop songs on some level, but on another there is a jam band-esque feeling that the songs are coming together as they are being played, and it keeps things exciting and unpredictable. As I was listening to this, I kept waiting for a song that didn't hit, but everything did. Even 5-4=Unity, which I *believe* is an interpolation of Take 5. I am pretty thrilled by this. Listening through, the influence this had on future indie bands is palpable, but the unique tone, strategic sloppiness, and distinct presence that Pavement has here makes it a singular achievement.

Life's Too Good is tons of whimsical, slightly queasy fun. I wouldn't say The Sugarcubes were especially weird, but they *were* extremely quirky. And there *is* a difference. Caroliner are weird, They Might Be Giants are quirky. This has pop songwriting, playful irreverence, eclectic points of influence, and some punk ethos at the heart of it, quirky fits nicely. Also, very importantly, this has Bjork, who sounds remarkably similar to how she sounds on her later solo records (as opposed to her earlier solo records, they *are* out there). This also has something slightly dreamy about it, which may be the source of the aforementioned queasiness. The sound of this album is pretty raw, all things considered, so some dream pop-isms slipping in just kind of distort things. It's like the album is being viewed through a funhouse mirror. This effect is particularly pronounced on the single Birthday, which couples a subtle moodiness with Bjork's *very* distinct vocals and some "melty" production. Honestly, aside from a couple under-developed moments, this is a really solid tracklist too. Life's Too Good carries it's distinct tone and sound for the entirety of it's brisk runtime. The result is a very enjoyable album and a worthwhile entry into Bjork's *very* high achieving discography.

This is my third consecutive female fronted pop album, and probably my favorite of the three. On Diamond Life, Sade looks to soul and jazz, and escapes the worst stylistic pitfalls of the '80s because of it. She consistently sounds self-assured and mature across this Diamond Life, and she is a really compelling vocal presence. The writing feels personal and there's a slight moodiness here as well. All in all, Diamond Life is everything you would want from a "sophisti-pop" album. It's also a really strong debut to boot. Diamond Life manages to be a really enjoyable pop album while having some really impressive thematic depth.

Stripped is a really solid pop album, and Christina Aguilera is felt across it as a strong personality. There are a lot of fun, bouncy, infectious songs here, and some really great performances. There's really enjoyable Latin and Hip-Hop influence, and some good features too. In short, it's a great pop album, but I do have a glaring problem with it. It's really just much too long. 77 minutes is closing in on feature length film territory. I personally struggle a bit with pop ballads, so I'd advocate for cutting a lot of them. But I'm OK is an exception. It's kind of a vital moment here, and carries a lot of real pathos. I'd also single out Keep On Singin' My Song, which closes the album out in a kind of soulful way. That being said, the heart of Stripped is full of great pop songs, and I can float along to this album pretty happily.

Let's get the obvious out of the way, Amy Winehouse had a killer voice, and really impressive control over it. Although, I am kind of learning that having a great voice is not particularly important to me. I am more of the " All My Favorite Singers Couldn't Sing" school of thought. But regardless, her jazzy throwback pop meets alternative sound is pretty compelling. I don't think this is the sort of thing that I really get though. It's enjoyable, but as someone who appreciates her voice more intellectually than emotionally, I don't think these songs really carry this past "pretty good". Also, I saw a lot of reviews making this album about the men in Winehouse's life more so than about her. And I think a lot of them are being excessively mean, but this album is, admittedly, pretty centered on the men in Winehouse's life. I don't terribly mind it usually, it's honest and her character does show. But there are a couple songs here that are pretty frustrating. The "Dude, why are you so sensitive, are you gay or something" addittude on Stronger Than You has aged *horribly*, and as the first song here, this album kind of starts on a really bad foot. I also find Fuck Me Pumps a little frustrating. It is a song putting down women who go to men for validation, in the middle of an album largely about the men that Amy Winehouse seeks for validation. I will say that she was 19 here, and that kind of re-frames this sort of thing as a lack of maturity. But being thrust into international stardom as a 19 year old doesn't exactly give you a chance to mature in a healthy, emotionally grounded way, and Amy Winehouse did kind of pay the ultimate price for it. In short, I can't really hold it against her, but a few of these songs are non-negotiably frustrating. Although, October Song, about her dead pet bird is the moment here where I find Amy Winehouse a little more personally relatable here.Despite my significant qualms here and there, these songs are at least servicable delivery systems for her incredible vocals, and Frank does end up enjoyable, but it also doesn't fully make me understand Winehouse's legacy.

I have begun to observe that the floor and ceiling of my appreciation of Bossa Nova are pretty similar. In short, I have been getting a similar amount of enjoyment from most everything I've heard from the genre. And it's a little frustrating, because I can tell there is real depth to the genre, but I also struggle to shake the "easy listening" connotation the genre has in The U.S. And this isn't really an exception. Bebel Gilberto is a pleasant presence here, and Tanto Tempo is still as enjoyable as other Bossa albums I've heard. But I still think it's a bit same-y and more suited to background listening. Perhaps even a bit moreso than other Bossa albums I've heard. This has traded the jazz influence I'm more used to for a down-tempo aesthetic, and while Tanto Tempo stands out a little because of this, it also has a sleepier sound than most Bossa I've heard. Alguém and Lonely kind of end up in a unique place, but aside from that, there just aren't a lot of surprises here. As I said, the overall experience is pleasant, it just doesn't resonate all that much for me, and kind of falls in line with other Bossa albums I've reviewed.

I like seeing the albums from grunge bands when they just got some real money for recording, but weren't yet the biggest band on Earth. Stuff like Nevermind, Dirt, and yes, Superunknown. Prior to this, Soundgarden had a pretty unique classic heavy metal and hard rock influence to their sound. You can tell from the virtuoso guitar passages and the stomping percussion. But on Superunknown, Soundgarden also bring something new. This album is immersed in a really surreal, ominous atmosphere that I can't really get anywhere else in grunge. It is tense and cold, and it is what keeps me coming back to Superunknown. And this atmosphere marries with Soundgarden's previous influences to create something wholly unique. Unfortunately, I don't think it can sustain this atmosphere for the full length of the album, and it kind of has to "wade in". Let Me Drown and My Wave are pretty great songs, but they take some time gaining speed before Fell On Black Days and Mailman show an example of what I think to be the album's best. Both of these songs are still heavy, and covered in rock influence, but they are utterly permeated by something sad and otherworldly. We have another small stumble on Superunknown, before picking back up again on Head Down, and the unlikely single, Black Hole Sun. It's such a strange, surreal, dark song, and it really proves that anything could be a hit in the '90s. Although, after it we get the album's most grevious mis-step. And it is sequencing Spoonman after Black Hole Sun. Spoonman is another single, and it *is* a great song, but it is jangly and bright and devoid of what I love most about this album. I think it can stay, but I think it should have been sequenced earlier. After Black Hole Sun, it really feels like we enter a descent into another world, but Spoonman is a hiccup that I think really interrupts the tone. And I know that my complaints sound silly and minute, but I *really* do love this album, and it's just these little things that keep me from calling it perfect. Although, on the second half here, I think it comes close. From Limo Wreck to Like Suicide, the promises set up by the first half of the album are fulfilled. The songs get darker and weirder and more immersive. I would like to highlight 4th Of July in particular, it is genuinely my favorite song here. It's just this dour, molten plod. It sounds like it's being beamed through a dimensional portal. It's a bonafide sludge song, and possibly the heaviest thing ever put on a multi-platinum album. Superunknown is fascinating and unique, and despite some hiccups, it's one of the coolest albums of the grunge era, delivering a sound that I still can't really get anywhere else.

As somebody who grew up as a metal-head, this album is kind of everything. Even if I *probably* like Master Of Reality a little more (depending on the day), this is *The One*. Paranoid is the galvanization of everything metal would be. It may the the most archetypal example of the genre possible. And *Every* song, without exception is a classic within the genre; yes, even Rat Salad, the 2 minute, and 30 second long guitar/drum solo (remember that we're talking about Heavy Metal here, sometimes a 2 minute, and 30 second long guitar/drum solo is everything). Even if the self-titled was the birth of metal, it still had a couple of toes in the '60s. Paranoid left that all behind, and continued the pattern of Black Sabbath blasting years ahead of their contemporaries with every release (which would continue through Sabotage, and then, abruptly stop). You may be tempted to say "This can't be *that* far ahead of the proto-metal of the time" and I have to disagree. Deep Purple, Hendrix, Cream, Blue Cheer and others were making hard-edged, exciting rock music with heavy riffs, yes, and a lot of it was very good, but Sabbath's atmosphere and approach was *so* different. No one else had this level of menace, or Iommi's devotion to plodding riffs, or Ozzy treating his shriek like an instrument. It genuinely feels like Sabbath set out to make music in a genre different than what rock music was at the time. At the same time, you can still take Sabbath apart and see the respect for those who came before, just listen to Bill Ward's jazz-y drumming and the funk-y swagger of Geezer Butler's thick basslines. As I said, every song is iconic, War Pigs' weight, nimbleness, and epic structure makes it a strong contender for metal's national anthem. Paranoid established the template that would be expanded upon by The New Wave Of British Heavy Metal, speed metal, and ultimately thrash (maybe even punk, to an extent). Iron Man has one of the most iconic guitar riffs ever written. Planet Caravan sounds like it was recorded underwater, and it showed that psych still has a place in metal, just in a darker way. One side B, the song's are still classics, but in a nicher capacity, but for metal fans, these are still the holy texts. Electric Funeral is a fucking slug-fest, and most likely the first doom metal song ever released. Which would make hand of doom the second doom metal song ever released, but it also serves as evidence of metal's capacity for dynamics and tension. The aforementioned Rat Salad may be the single most iconic instrumental song on a metal album. And the groovin', jazzy, Fairies Wear Boots closes with something fun and tongue in cheek that doesn't sacrifice the tone or content heard on the rest of the album. To me, this is kind of the other side of the hippie movement. The hippies reacted to violence and injustice with the free love movement and sunshine pop, but that couldn't be everyone's path. Sabbath were furious about the same things, but they were from an industrial hellscape, Iommi lost his fingers in a factory accident as a *teenager*, and Ozzy would snort anything you put in front of him, in short these guys were kinda fucked when they formed. So their answer to the violence of the time was enormous, lead-lined riffs and lyrics about nuclear holocaust, it's just how it goes. And it certainly found it's audience, even if critics hated it. But it probably wasn't their fault, Black Sabbath had already mastered something that barely existed. Regardless, Paranoid is most likely the most iconic metal album ever. And it inspired generations of doom-mongers to pick up a guitar and make some goddamn noise.

This is French rap music, and I do not speak French. This bears mentioning because of how dependent Hip-Hop is on lyricism. So, while the vibe here, and the songs *do* transcend the language barrier, just be aware of the fact that there is a large facet of this album that I am almost completely unable to honestly engage with. That being said, the vibe here is *really* something. This is funky, breezy and bouncy, it is music that genuinely makes me want to dance. Also, considering that this album came out in 1991, the production here is *really* good. There is some very clear reggae influence. And the sound here is really organic. This has aged *fantastically*, this sounds like it could have *feasibly* been released well over a decade after it actually was. The same goes for MC Solaar's flows. He is dynamic, bouncy, and precise. He effortlessly cycles through tempos and cadences. And his double-time flows sound like they have *incredible* enunciation. I looked up some info about MC Solaar, and I have seen claims that he is the greatest French Hip-Hop artist, and from this album, I think it's feasible. He also has the Gang Starr and De La Soul co-sign, which is good enough for me. This really took me by surprise, and hearing such a distinct regional variety of Hip-Hop was a really enjoyable experience. Especially an album as well-executed as this is.

I will admit that I haven't given this a full listen before, but I feel awfully strongly about it. I've been getting very into Neil Young. And this album seems to hold a pretty special place in the discography. And listening to this, the tightness and consistency here really leaps out. Young's fantastic performances meet magical, crushing, and epic songs. It's some of his best songwriting ever. After The Gold Rush encompasses the sweetness of When You Dance I Can Really Love, the incredibly sad Don't Let It Bring You Down, and the scathing Southern Man, which sounds convincingly like the wrath of God.I should, perhaps, spend more time with After The Gold Rush, but there is something special here, and I'm feeling generous.

Piper At The Gates Of Dawn is really fascinating due to it's unique dual identity. Piper is (one of) the first manifestation(s) of Pink Floyd, with which you can enjoy a game of connect the dots that leads the concepts here to the more familiar Floyd of the '70s. But Piper is also the most complete and coherent artistic statement from Syd Barrett, who wrote 8 of these songs, and contributed to two more. You can most clearly hear the Pink Floyd of the '70s on Interstellar Overdrive, a spacey, expansive jam. But the fingerprints are all over the place hear. There are licks and backing vocals here and there where the connections certainly come together. And that ultimately makes this album really interesting when these early Floyd-isms butt up against Syd Barrett's songs and vocal stylings. His songwriting is bright, surreal, and *extremely* psychedelic. This is another inductee into the extremely short list of psych albums that I think genuinely make you feel like you're on something. But theses writing styles collide with the spacey-ness of the band and result in a pretty dark, bizarre example of psych pop. On The Gnome, Barrett's ultra-enunciated delivery almost makes him sound angry. Chapter 24 is the collision of psychedelic swirling and truly bewildering lyrics, where everything you're hearing seems to make sense as you hear it, but it doesn't feel like the song conveys any information. It's genuinely disorienting. Matilda Mother is fantastical and lushly blissed out. And Bike has these explosions between verses which then "slide" down, also *very* disorienting. Astronomy Domine is one of the most lasting moments from this album. And Lucifer Sam is also very enjoyable. It's also worth noting that Take Up Thy Stethoscope And Walk is Roger Waters' only songwriting contribution here, and it's actually very good. Honestly everything here is pretty enjoyable, even Pow R Toc H, which does, admittedly, kind of push it. This stands up both as an origin story for Pink Floyd, and a psychedelic artistic statement from the unique and deeply sad figure that Syd Barrett was. This is one of the most fascinating psych albums on the list, and while it isn't perfect, it is trippy, creative, and very fun to listen to.