Reviews by funny_character

The reggae rhythm that we drop into immediately here is like a bullet to the head, and these vocals on top of it is like feeling the bullet come out the other side. And no, I don't know exactly what I mean by that. I don't even feel comfortable saying it's bad, I feel better claiming that this feels like staring at the sun. Despite being, theoretically, easy listening, something about the presentation of this just stupefies me. This sounds like the members of Wham were put into a trash compactor and polished into a single, perfect cube. This band's spotify biography reads like a combination of an essay on Scott Walker and a eulogy for a controversial politician. This band was founded by a leftist thinker, linguist, and underground artist who became progressively more interested int absurdly polished pop music. The lyrics here maintain the interest in linguistics and politics, but also try to be sexy with it. Like this sounds like a joke. Although after sitting on it a little, I think it’s kind of good? The tone and writing here has something stylized and ultra angular going on, that actually kind of makes the absurdly clean presentation make a little sense. Sometimes it’s cool, but sometimes it just sounds like the most “pop” music anyone has ever made. It gets a low three for being weirdly compelling, and for just existing in such a fascinating way. This was unexpectedly interesting, and maybe, just maybe there’s a post-modern masterpiece somewhere in here, but if so, I also must say that it probably isn’t for me to find.

Hmm, well, I have no idea what the fuck this is. That cover art, and that band name, and that album name sure are arresting. I honestly don't know exactly what I was expecting, although if you forced me to guess at gunpoint, I would have said "weirdo prog rock". And I would have been close, at least in spirit. I think this is like contemporary classical/avant-pop, and as it turns out, that is a combination of things which, at least superficially, resembles prog. The more I investigate this, it feels like the less I know. I guess Eno was involved in producing this: on some level that just makes sense. But Who's Zopf? I guess only a few tracks here were by the Penguin Cafe Orchestra proper, and some truncated form of the group wrote and perfromed a lot of the material. I've even seen conflicting info as to who even made the cover art. And this is all on top of the music sounding the way that it does. But is it good? Yeah, I Think so. A lot of the Penguin Cafe Orchestra songs end up kind of lounge music-y, but it works on Penguin Cafe Single, and The Sound Of Someone You Love Who's Going Away And It Doesn't Matter pretty well. The avant-garde slant is still there and the lounge feel ends up colliding with some really discordant ideas, and it's really interesting. However, I think that Hugebaby and Chartered Flight are a slog, and this could have done to end after The Sound Of Someone...It Doesn't Matter. This album to me is honestly kind of cemented by the Zopf stuff though. Most of side 1 is the Zopf material, and it consists largely of short audio experiments and compositional ideas. The rapid fire nature of this part of the album, coupled with its weird and wonderful nature is pretty compelling. A couple of (admittedly pretty beefy) slogs aside, this is a really cool piece of lesser known 70's avant garde stuff. I don't known if it's the sort of thing that everyone needs to hear before they die, but it did enhance my life. Definitely check this out if you like Eno too, he produced this, and he's got some fingerprints all over this thing.

The sheer amount of acclaim that this gets is kind of baffling to me. Don't get me wrong, I actually thought this was really great, and as far as I'm concerned, this is approximately tied with Pulp's Different Class as my favorite Brit-Pop album I've ever heard. But I've seen people argue that this is a top ten album ever, and I've seen other people argue that this is their favorite album *ever*. And I have to wonder if I'm missing something, or if I need to give it more time, or if I'm simply not British enough for this. Although to these peoples' credit, something here is interesting enough that I *do* want to keep coming back. There is something to these songs that is *infectious*. For example, from the first time I heard I Wanna Be Adored to now I like it a *lot* more. It's slightly ominous lyrics also add a lot to it as well (I don't have to sell my soul, he's already in me"). I'm not exactly sure how to describe the dominant sound here, but it is very much a Brit-pop album from the 90's. It has a Beatles-esque understanding of pop, heavy inspiration from psych, and it's willing to bump shoulders with dance music. But I think the more distinct influences here go over a lot better than on most of Brit-Pop. Songs like I Wanna Be Adored, Waterfall, and I Am The Resurrection are very successful adaptations of psych for the 90's. Although, I am a little mixed on the album's most extreme psych-experiment. Don't Stop is kind of, sort of Waterfall played backwards, and while it sort of works, and is, in fact psychedelic sounding, part of me still thinks this is kind of obnoxious, but this is probably the album's lowest point, so it could be a hell of a lot worse. I also think The Stone Roses' flirtation with dance music is way more successful than the genre at large. For the majority of the album, it's there, but it's always in the background, quietly informing the album's feel and momentum. But it does break through on the epic Fools Gold in pretty glorious fashion. Aside from this, another favorite of mine is Made Of Stone, which drags in a tasteful hint of goth. And the rest of side B is largely as consistent as anything else. The more I talk about this, the less I find to complain about it. A lot of the songs are just that good. I may be slowly figuring the appeal out here, so I'll be sure to update at some point, but for now, I'm still giving this a very strong 4. This is some of the most exciting, well-executed, and interesting Brit-Pop I've ever heard.

This is alright, the songs are fine, there are some decent lines, and the production is well done. But this album is operating around an indie-niche with so many great albums that I can afford to be a little picky. The sound here reminds me of Destroyer moreso than anyone else, it's pretty much exactly what I think of when I hear the phrase "adult alternative". The components here are largely good, it's just that they aren't combined in an especially inspired way. Honestly I thought this was just kind of boring, if fairly pleasant. But there are so many indie/alt-country/alternative albums that are more interesting and memorable than Nixon that I struggle to put it on the list of recommendations.

Talking Heads helped lay the groundwork for New Wave, then refused to follow the genre to it's conclusion, instead deciding to follow their muse and become one of the most interesting bands of their era. Fear Of Music sees the band in a unique position. Talking Heads have one foot in '77 and More Songs... and another in Speaking In Tongues, but you can also see how they're slipping into Remain In Light on the way. The result may be the band's most eclectic album. We have more conventional "hits" like Life During Wartime and Heaven. We have the kind of jittery, angular punk-funk we've heard before from Talking Heads like on I Zimbra, Mind, Paper, and Cities. And we see Talking Heads pulling at the strings a little: figuring out how to deconstruct their music on songs like Animals, Electric Guitar and Drugs. This particular string of songs was among the most abstract, cold, and deeply weird music they'd ever put out at the time. And across the record, the band is in elite form. Everything is sold with a rare tightness and style, and David Byrne tap dances through the mazes of intricate, percussive melodies and abstract textures. The paranoia, mania, and anxiety of his delivery really comes through here. And this is another example of how much of a great lyricist he really is: straddling the mundane with the deeply abstract, he paints strage, alienating portraits. I haven't decided if this album's scattershot approach speaks to me on the level that something like Remain In Light does, but their are a few songs on here that are nearly perfect to me. Life During Wartime is a driving, funky tune, with some of Byrne's best ever lyrics. The content is so literal that it's almost surreal. Cities is a fantastic piece of "classic" Talking Heads. Memories Can't Wait embraces a strange swagger that distinguishes it in the band's discography. Then the run from Animals to Drugs is just so intriguing, exciting and daring. While not my favorite from Talking Heads, this is a really amazing project, and it's unique weirdness will probably grow on me. These songs are incredibly infectious and I can only imagine that I'll be returning to this one.

A late-ish career achievement from Ellington that I enjoy, and appreciate, but that I personally only get so much out of. He’s really flying the big band jazz flag high here. And it’s a real accomplishment of the form. The band’s mechanical tightness matches a willingness to improvise that exemplifies the best of what this style of jazz can give. And there are some really incredible woodwind passages too. I just don’t have a ton to say, it’s another wildly important, fantastically made jazz album that I just haven’t developed a full appreciation of, and that’s it.

Not bad per se, and kind of a cool secret, but the theatrics are a bit much. Ackles strikes a balance on four or 5 songs here, and I really like the title track, but sometimes, I just *can’t* do it. Like, the music plus his Sinatra crooning makes this sound like it’s off Broadway sometimes Oh, California! in particular is kinda insufferable. I guess I’m glad I know about this now, and it’s cool to see what else Bernie Taupin is up to, but I just don’t think I’ll be revisiting this.

I forgot when this came out: Tracy Chapman's music feels like it would almost make more sense in the landscape of the '70s. But this came out in 1988 in the world of late-era synth pop and hair metal. But maybe that's part of the reason her incredibly earnest self-titled singer-songwriter album is so refreshing. I've not heard any Tracy Chapman song other than Fast Car before this, but that song is so good it only makes sense that she has at least one great full-length. I think this album's greatest strength is its astute social commentary. Chapman very smartly centers her observations on systemic injustices with respect to the sadnesses and frustrations of daily life. Just look at deeply sad, utterly improbable ultra-hit Fast Car. Ultimately, this song is kind of about the desire to escape from your situation, only to find yourself a victim of the same forces acting generationally to suck you back in. But its rendered so tenderly in its characters that it has a life entirely it's own. And I think much of this album is this astute and nuanced. I'd like to make special note of weird acapella song Behind The Wall, which is about the frustrations that arise from interacting with a police force who's job isn't *really* to protect the public. If I have anything negative to say about this album, it's just that I think there's a *small* drop in quality into side B, but songs like Why?, She's Got Her Ticket, and For My Lover manage to be compelling regardless. This is a really great singer song-writer album from someone who I think is unfairly kind of thought of as a one-hit wonder. Most of this is just as compelling, well-written and astute as Fast Car.

James Brown's music works best for me when he's at his highest energy. So, while Live At The Apollo isn't necessarily the bag I reach into when I want James Brown, there is still an undeniable importance to this album. This may even be better as a document than an album. The atmosphere of the concert experience is captured perfectly. There's just enough imperfection, and energy crackling around here. And the, almost rhythmically, *screaming* crowd here is one of the most important parts. People go crazy for James Brown, people go crazy for the "emcee", people go crazy for the band, and sometimes, it feels like people go crazy for nothing at all. But point is that the crowd is into it. It really captures the phenomenon that James Brown was. I'll also say, the way he blitzes through songs is *improbable*. Most of these songs are under 3 minutes. Except for the 10(!!!) minute long Lost Someone, the medley, which is sort of cheating, and Night Train. And a lot of these songs are a lot of fun. I will say that for its length, Lost Someone manages to not overstay its welcome. It helps that this album is so brief as is. This is like 31 minutes long. A Third of it is Lost Someone. Another third is The medley and Night Train. Which means that the rest of this album fits into like 10 minutes! It's almost a punk rock move. And the sheer tightness of the band helps a lot. I've heard that James Brown was almost impossible to work with and I believe it. I will say, for as much of a strength the brevity is, it's also kind of a weakness. This album doesn't have much weight as it passes through my ears. But, as I said, what is here is strong. Even though this isn't what I'm necessarily looking for out of James Brown, it is utterly successful in its goals.

A West Coast Hip-Hop foundational document, the solidification of "Gangsta Rap" and arguably the album that put Compton on the map. Straight Outta Compton's importance is inarguable. And it's still pretty great. The line-up here is iconic: Ice Cube, Eazy-E, Dr. Dre, Arabian Prince, MC Ren, and DJ Yella. Everyone is in top form, The beats are amazing, with some proto G-Funk stuff and some stuff that almost reminds me of some earlier New York stuff. And every one brings something unique to their verses. Ice Cube is a highlight, his distinctive, agressive flows and intense delivery made him something of a break-out here. Although, I think Eazy-E may be the best rapper here. His lyrics are clever and playful, and his colorful flows and delivery ooze personality. It's also interesting to hear the little shouts to New York rap here. I particularly noticed some references to The Beastie Boys, and it feels weird hearing a West-Coast Hip-Hop album that's from before The East-West feud. In fact, this is from '88, and considering that, the flows and rhyming styles here are remarkably modern, or at least '90s. And the lyrics on here are really cool, lots of looks at Hip-Hop culture and facts of life from this album's place and time. Also, this *very* bluntly confronts racism in policing, and other forms of institutional racism in a really effective way. I can easily see why this became the progenitor of a whole culture of Hip-Hop. I have a couple of complaints though. Something 2 Dance 2 sounds kind of silly in 2025. And while the lyrics are largely cool, there is some stuff that hasn't aged all that well. I can largely view it as a snapshot of the time, but I Ain't Tha 1 is *rough*. This is Ice Cube's diatribe about not letting women take his money, and there's some *nasty* content. He's kind of sort of trying to play it as a joke, but he sounds so *fucking* mad about the topic at hand that it can't really read as anything but vitriol towards women. Bringing up this sort of thing is always kind of exhausting because it feels like arguments about the misogyny present in Hip-Hop are often co-opted by people who are actively trying to enforce negative stereotypes about black culture, and this ironically means that women still lose by being made into ammunition. Especially because it feels like a lot of people are still willing to hand wave the misogyny present in other forms of music, like rock. But regardless, there is still a culture of misogyny in America, and I really do think something like I Ain't Tha 1 directly contributes to and enforces this culture. But I digress, this is still a really great classic, with prescient lyrics, great beats and lots of personality.

I was just thinking about this album, as well as how I was nearly 200 albums deep without seeing any Dylan. The generator, with its mysterious powers prevails again. I've been quietly working on getting into Dylan for a while, with limited success. I actually like his voice, and I think a lot of his gold era lyrics are fantastic, but honestly, I'm just not always sold on the songs themselves. Although I will say that listening to this from front to back was very helpful, and I did *really* like a lot of it. Bob Dylan really is one of the great American poets, and the advice to take this as poetry first and music second actually does help. His verses are sprawling but detailed, full of as many panoramas as portraits, and his poetic voice is distinct and powerful. A lot of my favorites on here are actually the longer songs. On Like A Rolling Stone, Tombstone Blues, Ballad Of A Thin Man, and Desolation Rows, it's as though the world of his poetry unravels before you in real time. Every verse makes another connection, strengthens the themes, expands the scope, crystallizes the images. The way he writes really is incredible. In addition to this, like I said, I happen to like Dylan's singing voice. He's narratorial and emotive, and he really digs deep on his delivery. He has such a powerful grit and it sells a weight to his words. And while listening, I did kind of figure out the appeal of the music itself. From the rambling, laid back Like A Rolling Stone, to the stubborn, rickety train energy of Tombstone Blues. My single favorite song may be Ballad Of A Thin Man, the noir-ish, blues-y rock is a perfect complement to the cubist Americana of his lyrics. This whole album contains excellent folk rock. I'm listening again while writing this, and even songs like Queen Jane Approximately, It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry, and Highway 61 Revisited are growing on me. I've really considered giving this a 5: some of these songs are perfect. But there are still a couple I'm not sold on, like From A Buick 6 and Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues. But I do finally kind of get Dylan as a mythological figure now. And I will keep listening. Don't be surprised if this review gets an upgrade sooner than later.

Edit: This finally got some more time, and yeah: my complaints have pretty much melted away. The scale, and depth and complexity of the America and its characters in Dylan's music is staggering. And I've finally figured out how these unassuming songs mesh perfectly with everything. This is really as brilliant as people would have me believe.

This is a mix of sounds that have aged very well, and pretty badly in my opinion. Honestly, I had the toughest time with the first two tracks, but after that some more stuff started to click. In particular, I think the more garage, jungle, break, and trip-hop stuff has aged best. The more conventionally dance-y songs are a bit more of a mixed bag. Some favorites are Melt, Song Of Life, Space Shanty and Storm 3000. And I will also say that the way this uses samples, particularly percussion, is really cool. Also, in the world of UK electronic music, this is undeniably important. This had some collaboration with people outside of the electronic world, and so I have read, laid the groundwork for much of what came after it. Honestly, by the end of this I was pretty into it. Even for electronic, it's an album you have to learn how to fall into a little. But the trance-like grooves and varied textures won in the end.

After Bowie’s weirdly productive, yet rightfully controversial “mountains of cocaine and fascism” phase, and Low’s stubborn, experimental brilliance, “Heroes” feels something like a reconciliation with reality. Joined by everybody’s favorite recurring character in ‘70s and ‘80s rock music(as on Low), Brian Eno, Bowie manages to create another masterpiece here. The glamour of Bowie’s early ‘70s and the mania of Station To Station can both be felt here, but the really unique thing Eno brings out of Bowie is art rock, experimental, and ambient work, all executed pretty incredibly. Much like it’s predecessor, Low, this is about a side of art rock, then about a side of more abstract pieces. But Heroes reels it in a little more, and isn’t afraid to deliver a hit or two. The title track is, of course, considered one of Bowie’s best, but the other Side A tracks honestly keep up. For the first side, detail is really the name of the game. These songs are constantly elevated by tiny aesthetic decisions and performance quirks. Beauty And The Beast maintains the appeal of Bowie's best glam rock, but with a much weirder slant. The synth lead in particular is *very* Eno, and it gives the song a lot texturally. Joe The Lion kind of feels like a hard rock song, but twisted up and spat out. The iconic "Heroes" really exemplifies the detail I mentioned. The quotations around the title say more than some full songs do. Additionally, it is the song where you can most clearly see what I think to be Bowie's defining vocal quirk on "Heroes", and it's his ability to really harness manic energy. Sons Of The Silent Age has some fascinating vocal processing and a fantastic, bitter-sweet chorus. I think it's one of the most earnest moments on this project. And Side A ends with Blackout, another song with a very Eno lead that ramps up the darkness a little before we enter Side B. At the start of Side B, V-2 Schnieder dips our toes in. The structure is much more abstract than anything else we've seen so far, but a relatively up-beat groove is there. Although this is followed by Sense Of Doubt, Moss Garden and Neuköln. This suite of songs flows into each other as a nearly uninterrupted piece. And this is some dark, sad, daring music. These songs are built out of free-flowing passages, dark motifs, and textural flourishes. Moss Garden is particularly beautiful and alien in my opinion, but Sense Of Doubt's phrases and Neuköln's sax is worth mentioning as well. After this, in another particularly daring move, Bowie ends the album with The Secret Life Of Arabia. I think in another's hands, this move could have been stupid, but Bowie really pulls it off. This song being as good as it is helps quite a bit. But, basically, we are torn away from the textural explorations, and delivered to funky grooves, detailed production and awesome guitar. Again, it's bold, but it does help you to return to life without just dropping you off in the middle of no-where. This is a stellar collection of songs, and this album is rightfully considered one of Bowie's best. The content here displays a willingness to explore, an ear for detail, and an artistic maturity that we can reasonably expect from Bowie's best.

Hotly awaited, and critically acclaimed upon release, Konnichiwa seems to be a commercial and cultural resurgence for grime. Grime is admittedly not a sub-genre of hip-hop I'm especially well-versed in, but I have enjoyed some. While I'm sure someone more immersed in UK hip hop may get more out of this, I did think it was good. Skepta is charismatic, the beats are good, the features are cool, it's a great formula for an enjoyable rap album with catchy, memorable songs, and that's what I get out of it. Although I don't see the genre centerpiece that a lot of people claim this is. Some of the highlights here are Lyrics, Crime Riddim, Numbers, Man, That's Not Me and Shutdown. In particular, Man may have the best beat on the album, and Numbers' Pharrell Williams verse may be the best feature here. It's competing with JME's verse on That's Not Me. There a couple of tracks here that don't do it for me as much though. But there's enough good that I did enjoy the experience at large. This is pretty good, and I'd be interested in hearing more from Grime as a genre.

There are plenty of interesting ideas across this, and some really unique problems too. In short, this kind of has Dexys Midnight Runners Don't Stand Me Down syndrome to my ears. To clarify, I thought that album was very ambitious, very messy, and pretty interesting, but it was no where near interesting or out-there enough to justify how messy it was (I honestly had quite a few problems with that album, and I do think this one was a little better, but the point stands). The Waterboys were a London based-band fronted and formed by a Scottish man. And, if what I'm reading is true, Fisherman's Blues was inspired by a stint living in Ireland. Prior to this, they had some commercial success releasing a few new wavier albums. However, it seems that contemporarily, Fisherman's Blues was a little too big and weird for the public, and the critics were mixed. It re-centered their sound on Celtic folk, dense, traditional arrangements, and some pub rock influences. But, there are also 9 minute long songs, fiddle-dissonance solos, and a brief Woody Guthrie cover. It *is* messy, and it *is* ambitious, and it *is*, at least cursorily, interesting. I think a lot of the best ideas here are towards the front. The title track puts their best foot forward, with a compelling, original Celtic folk-rock song. And We Will Not Be Lovers is the most successful experiment with what I'm going to dub, "Jam-Folk". It's 7 minutes long, and it has no real chorus, but it *does* have several fiddle solos and the kind of meandering, interesting, song-long half-verse thing going on that reminds me of early Modest Mouse. And, miraculously, it works: mostly due to the song keeping up some really steady momentum. It is always going *somewhere*, even if you don't exactly know where. This also sort of works on World Party, but after this point, things fall apart a little. Sweet Thing is another 7 minute long song, but I don't think it keeps it together nearly as well, even though it has cool moments. And, unfortunately, And A Bang On The Ear is one of the low points of the album to me. It's 9 minutes long, and it feels like a war of attrition. The fiddle melody feels cheesy, and the song doesn't feel like it's going anywhere. And after this, The Waterboys can never capture the promise seen in the first couple of songs. When Will We Be Married is a neat interpretation of a folk tune, but aside from that, there's little else that does much for me (although The Stolen Child also has a couple of moments). I'm also notably not into their attempts to veer into Americana, of which there are a good few. This all together leaves me cold to a pretty substantial part of this album. I will say, there's enough here that I'm not going to write off The Waterboys fully, I get the sense they have other cool stuff. But the interesting to messy to spotty ratio on Fisherman's Blues is all off.

I like my metal, but Motörhead has never exactly been my drug of choice. That being said, they are still unquestionably deserving of respect. Now, the question remains, even if I respect No Sleep 'til Hammersmith, do I like it? Yes. Yes I do. Here, Motörhead is operating with such reckless abandon and sheer, vital energy that this kind of functions as a punk album. And while I don't love *every* song here, this energy brings a cohesive whole together, and it works for me. The best songs here are the highest energy Motörhead classics. Ace Of Spades and Overkill are particularly exciting. Both songs just feel like an explosion. That being said, assuming we're keeping it to the original 11 song release of this, there really isn't a *bad* song here. It's really just a question of which Motörhead classics I'm receptive to, and which ones I'm not. Anyways, I can understand the placement in the book. This is a great live document of a band during their best years *AND* this is a foundational text for thrash metal. Perhaps most importantly, it's also just sick as hell. Also, I just want to give a quick shout-out to Lemmy's bass tone, he was not afraid to *fuck* that instrument up. I'm giving it a very strong 3 for now, but if I develop a deeper love for Motörhead at some point, I may revisit this.

Yesterday I got Berlin by Lou Reed: I think the generator is trying to send a message. I've spent my fair share of time with The Downward Spiral, and it's still fascinating that something this completely grim was a massive break-out. This is basically a character study about an individual representing all of Trent Reznor's aimless, impotent anger and worst self-destructive tendencies. Throughout the album, this character's rage and frustration are peeled back to reveal the sad emptiness at the heart of it all. Starting off, the oppressive world of The Downward Spiral is presented to us through four generational barnburners, before things shift a little with the chronically misunderstood Closer. To me, it's really about debasing sex beyond a coping mechanism, almost into a form of self-harm. It's here that we really start peeling the layers back. Some of the aimlessness, regret and alienation is laid bare before one final outburst of masculine violence in Big Man With A Gun. Then, following this, we follow the spiral to the aching, fractured Hurt, and it's implied suicide. Sonically, the textures of The Downward Spiral may be its single greatest draw. From the *searing* synth and guitar tone on Mr. Self-destruct, to the massive, bleak industrial soundscape on Reptile, to the eerie dance beat on Closer, these songs maintain distinct. Incredibly, the sheer knowledge of the equipment necessary to produce this is pretty much on display at all times. This album contains some of the most improbable and distinct synth tones ever. I think the biggest weakness of this album, generally is the lyrics. Don't get me wrong, a lot of Trent's best lyrics are here, and this album has its fair share of mantras and anthems. But on a song like Big Man With A Gun, he is almost *comically* on the nose. I will say, this album's sheer anger usually helps it out on this front. Even if what you're saying is a little stupid, saying it with conviction goes a long way. And this album has conviction in spades. I'm really trying to think if this deserves the 5. I think I'm gonna veer no, if only because the tracklist starts *incredibly* tight, and is observably a little less tight by the end. Despite that, this is a *very* strong 4. This may be industrial's greatest crossover with the mainstream, especially just because of how little Trent had to give up. This album is still *incredibly* personal, and its character portrait is uncompromised. One of the '90s most interesting moments for sure.

After his legendary stint in The Velvet Underground, Lou Reed went off to follow his own muse. And he pretty quickly found success with the Bowie produced Transformer. Transformer sees Reed's empathetic glimpses of life in the margins of society balanced with tight songwriting and a sleek finish. And it was enough that, at long last, he was making music deemed palatable by a more general public. In about a year's time, Lou Reed would come out with Berlin, and put a stop to that. Berlin is a fascinating record. As a rock opera, it doesn't shy away from theatricality. However, it's also unwilling to stop rolling around on the concrete. Berlin is a violent, strung-out examination of a collapsing relationship and its aftermath. This album sounds like it was constructed in the hollowed out corpse of glam rock. We hit big horn sections as often as we hit guitar and piano dirges about suicide, abuse, heroin usage, and familial separation. This is punctuated by Lou Reed's un-singing, which alternates between manic and just fucking empty. The resultant tone is almost indescribable. It kind of feels like a Bowie album died in a factory accident and went to hell. I listen to a lot of very depressing music, but this stands out in a really unusual way. I've probably heard sadder, if it must be a contest, but this feels like you're mainlining someone else's regret, embarrassment, rage, and shame. I'm not even sure that it really reflects well onto Lou Reed. The lyrics are dramatized, but not nearly as much as you'd want them to be. This feels frank enough that the topics at hand gain a unique weight. And even though, our characters are, generally, *not* great people, there are enough little flashes of empathy and relatability that they become complex and deeply tragic. When I started this, I wasn't sure if he was gonna pull it off, but Lou Reed keeps this all together with incredible songs as well. This probably isn't perfect, but it is a transcendent, haunting piece of rock's shadow-canon on its own terms. And I am spellbound by it in it's sad, strange ways.

When I first put this on, I kind of thought it was clunky and maybe even obnoxious, but I kind of figured out what was going on here. This album is often cited as "detached" and I think that makes a lot come together. Whether it be sex, home-life or whatever, Soft Cell stands at arm's length, observes, and makes slightly surreal jokes.And the stylized, ultra-low budget synths and clunky songs, paired with the dramatic, occasionally manic vocals largely sells it. And this lens results in even a song like Sex Dwarf being pretty good. The depiction of sexuality is sleazy and taboo, and it's sort of earnest, but it feels like it's earnest as a component of a larger joke. In short, the vibe is kind of strange, and I haven't fully unraveled the honesty and the irony here. Although, at times, I'm also just not sure that they committed to the bit enough. Whatever may be going on under the hood, this at least ends up as a cool, serviceable pop/new wave album, with hints of something a little deeper and stranger going on.

I think, to a lot of people, Frank Zappa himself may be the most difficult part of Zappa's music. Which is my theory as to why the largely instrumental Hot Rats is often considered his most accessible, and even his best by some. As far as I can tell, the trick to Zappa's music is usually that he composes some mind-bendingly intricate, jazzy, and enjoyable, experimental rock music: then he records vocals over top of it where he sings about piss jokes and fucking kitchen appliances. I suspect that this may be a turn-off for some people. So, without any vocals by Zappa, Hot Rats puts nothing in between you and the compositional ability, raw instrumental talent, and remarkable nuance that defines Zappa's best songs at their heart. The only track with vocals is Willie The Pimp, featuring the infamous Captain Beefheart, and that song is just sick as hell. Everything else here is just raw Zappa instrumental songwriting. And it really is something worth celebrating. The level of consistent songwriting, and compelling interplay between performers is incredible. Even at its jammiest moments, Hot Rats is focused and compelling. For being so intricate, it's shockingly emotive too. I'll simply say, this is an *easy* 4, but much like with most of Zappa's catalogue, I need to spend a little more time and dig a little deeper. I get the sense that this is the sort of album that just gets more rewarding on repeat listens.