Reviews by funny_character

I expected this to be a little punkier (but I may have been thinking of The Damned), but I still enjoyed this quite a bit. It's largely glam inflected hard rock with some really catchy songwriting and, perhaps most importantly, *very* distinct vocals. I actually really like Justin Hawkins' vocals and think that he's one of the biggest factors here that makes this album really stand out to me. He has such a powerful falsetto that I could even see how it could be a turn off for some people. He takes songs like Black Shuck, I Believe In A Thing Called Love, and Love On The Rocks With No Ice from solid hard rock to *really* good songs. This isn't perfect or anything, and it's not always my thing, but Permission to Land is at least consistently enjoyable.

I'm not used to albums giving you an instruction manual on how to listen to them, but this is, as far as I know, one of the first traditional Indian albums widely released in The States. In short, I understand why this album is like this, even if I think it's a very on the nose, slightly clunky way of handling things. Though, honestly, some of the information about how improvisation operates within Indian music is genuinely interesting, and the narration has a certain charm to it, so I'm not deducting a lot of points. As for the music itself, I don't feel especially qualified to review this, as with many dense, improvisatory, instrumental genres. On first listen, I just can't appreciate the nooks and crannies like I should. But I did very much enjoy this. The effect while listening to this is very much calming and meditative, and listening deeply to this exacerbates these attributes. There's tons of movement, savant instrumental talent, and brilliant improvisation here, and I could see myself *really* liking this if I came back. I also wouldn't be surprised if this was really influential to the inclusion of Indian music within '60s rock music. Ultimately, very enjoyable, read this as a strong 3.

When I first put this on, I thought it was kind of ridiculous, but honestly, it kind of grew on me. The synth pop here is really light and summery, with a *very* slight Gothic flair. But Very still kind of feels like lemonade or something, just a very refreshing album. There are also some songs here that kind of remind me of the Sonic Heroes soundtrack, so I don't know what's up with that. Anyways, this is breezy and pleasant, and easy enough to recommend.

This kind of snuck up on me, and I really enjoyed it. I don't typically enjoy music this theatrical, but there is something earnestly strange enough that it gets through to me. Without doing any real research, this feels like a combination of coroner stuff, easy listening, although rock, and a little avant garde. And the songs are good enough that The Divine Comedy manage to pull it off. I may need to listen to this more, I think I have more to say about it, but it's not coming to me tonight. Anyways, I was really surprised by this and enjoyed it a lot.

Not *my* The Who album, but certainly a *good* The Who album. While I prefer a lot of their stuff before this, that rocked a little harder, Who's Next is one of the best ever "arena rock" albums. And, while a lot of the meat of this album is good, with generally strong songs like Bargain, The song Is Over, and Getting In Tune, the best songs here are loaded as far to the front and back as possible, and they are *far and away* the best songs here. The opener, Baba O'Riley, is probably The Who's most iconic song, and may be the best arena rock song *ever*. The weird little synth arpeggios that kick off, the rock song they explode into, the lyrics and epic structure all make it an all timer. Behind Blue Eyes may be The Who's best ballad, carrying both a sadness and an anger, brought home with some of the band's best lyrics ever. And Won't Get Fooled Again is an epic, explosive jam, like the sort from Live At Leeds, but with stronger pop song wiriting and some of The Who's newly discovered synth work. While Who's Next is generally good, it's pretty much inatguably carried by these 3 songs, and I feel like I kind of have to consequently subtract a little. But this is certainly worth a listen, especially if you generally enjoy pop rock.

This was sort of sold to me as Madonna's experimental album, and I *really* don't think it delivers on this promise. Dare I say, Music really hasn't aged well. It's an album that hinges on the incorporation of electronic elements into electronic music, but the electronic elements here are clunky and kind of stiff, and while I did manage to get into this album on a few songs, I don't think it really pulls itself together long enough for me to come away with a particularly positive opinion. That being said, Amazing, What It Feels Like For A Girl, Don't Tell Me and Paradise (Not For Me) are strong songs. The acoustic guitar glitch stuff on Don't Tell Me is the most experimental thing on the album, and it's a unique moment, however it also reminds me that this album is supposed to have sort of a cowboy theme/aesthetic to it that never *really* materializes, and which just takes away from the cohesion of the project. Anyways, Amazing is probably the best pop song here. And What It Feels Like For A Girl is a great song with some really cool lyrics about gender. Paradise also has some cool lyrics which, I *think* are about religion, and it is also a trip hop inspired song with the coolest and most unique texture and tone on the album. Honestly, the second half of this is quite a bit more enjoyable than the first for me, but across the project there are enough songs that are too wrapped up in their aesthetic to let the songwriting really shine through. Although, interestingly enough, I'd say the lyrics across this thing are it's strongest aspect overall, Madonna has some really great, really personal writing. But I still don't think this makes it to a 3. And I know it's a bonus track, but this score is cemented by the American Pie cover, which isn't *terrible*, but it is baffling. It maintains almost none of the songwriting of the original, and isn't sold as Madonna's own thing. It's just a bizarre addition and frankly, kind of a jumpscare. This is not a bad album per se, but it has aged kind of awkwardly, and doesn't have a lot for me. If you *really* like Madonna, maybe give it a try though, there's probably something for you here.

This was not particularly interesting, but it was pretty decent. There's a little bit of new wave, a little bit of pop and some textural intrigue, but nothing really to write home about. I remember liking the first few songs quite a bit, but everything else also isn't bad. I just don't feel that strongly about this, and I don't know that I liked it enough to give a 3.

The punk movement in the '70s was such a fruitful scene, that developed so quickly that it seems like the inception of the genre, establishment of it, commercialization of it, and ensuing mutation of it all happened at, more or less, the same time. So while the timeline is challenging to assemble, I can pretty confidently say that Crossing The Red Sea With The Adverts is kind of the moment in time when punk started reacting to it's own commercialization. In this regard, Crossing The Red Sea has a little in common with something like Derek Jarman's Jubilee, although, The Adverts feel, perhaps, *slightly* less cutting. But this is one of the first times when punks were singing about the paradoxes of being teenage rebels and outsiders, who also happened to be some of the most popular musicians in their country. The finger is also turned to society at large, but hearing such an early example of "punk about punk" is so interesting, given how common it is now. This note aside, it's perhaps more important that this is *really* good. Any time anyone significantly changed punk at this time, it feels like it became a new genre of music; be it post-punk, new wave, hardcore or no wave. But here, The Adverts bring some more dynamism and poise to the punk sound, while really maintaining that class of '77 feel. The result is honestly one of the better punk albums of the era (in the UK). Most days of the week, I honestly think I'd take this over Never Mind The Bollocks..., it's *that* good. And this may make Crossing The Red Sea With The Adverts one of the more underrated punk albums ever, at least in a modern context. I don't even know how *I* went this long without hearing this, but I'm very glad I did.

For starters, Fear Of A Black Planet is "more" than It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back, in most every way, but I don't know if that makes it a "better" album per se. But, the beats are more intricate and bombastic, the lyrics are more pointed and confrontational, and the flows are more natural and complex. However, it does seem a *little* less consistent, and a *little* less singular. On a first full listen, the beats are probably the thing here that stand out first. The Bomb Squad double down on the textural, collagic production of It Takes A Nation Of Millions... and provide a collection of beats that feel organic and chaotic and even noisy in a way that hasn't really been explored much in mainstream Hip-Hop since. And the energetic flows of Chuck D and Flavor Flav pair perfectly with the beats as they deliver some real lyrical depth here. A *lot* of the ideas here are still controversial and challenging in the contemporary political climate, down to the album title. I don't have the time or qualifications to completely break down the themes of Fear Of A Black Planet, but I will say that they are *very much* worth looking into. It's really an album that confronts the listener, asks you if it makes you uncomfortable, and invites you to contemplate why. I will say that there is a little homophobia on one of the skits here, which has aged really weirdly , especially in the context of Public Enemy's career which aspires towards being earnestly and radically pro humanity. But don't let this blemish distract you from the fact that Fear Of A Black Planet is a cuttingly smart, deeply astute, and justly angry album. I really did love this one. And the more time I spend with both this and It Takes A Nation Of Millions... the more I like them both. Fear Of A Black Planet is an utterly essential Hip-Hop classic, and as I spend time more time with Public Enemy's music, I think that either this or It Takes A Nation Of Millions... *will* eventually be a 5. What's stopping me now is really just the density of this thing, much of which I don't feel as though I fully appreciate. But this really is excellent.

I have already heard Da Capo, and I was really impressed. It showed that in '66, Love already had a greater understanding of psych and counter culture than most of the bands operating. But by the time Sgt. Pepper hit the scene, and the public was just starting to really get into counter culture, Love had already started seeing the shortcomings of the movement when it seemed like no one else did. Thus, we got Forever Changes, an album born out of turmoil in the band, and reflecting the turmoil in the world. The sound here is still pretty sunny, but some dramatic darkness starts creeping in, and is driven home with lyrics that were really addressing all of the problems that the hippie movement was really looking past, in favor of unchecked bacchanalia. Love chooses to address the Vietnam War, the racial tensions, the violence, and yet they still have songs here echoing a radical love for humanity that survives in the face of it all. Just listen to A House Is Not A Motel, Love *know* what's going on, and they are justly *mad*. But at the same time, Alone Again Or is such a genuinely optimistic song, and one that does not feel even a *little* niave. And when I'm considering this, I think it's possible that Forever Changes is one of the most successful realizations of what the hippie movement *could have* been. To speak for the songs themselves, the folkier execution here adds some really cool textures to the mix. And Love write in this palette with *tons* of pathos and manage to pull excellent, catchy songs out of it. And at any point this could become too saccharine, they always incorporate something to counter-balance it. I think Live And Let Live may be the best example of this. I really don't think there's a bad song here. While I'd typically give an album a few more listens before going for the 5, the collision of the sounds and themes of this is just *super* powerful. I legitimately think it's one of the best psych/sunshine pop albums out there.

This is a catchy, sultry R&B and Soul album that successfully makes a mid-career Bobby Womack stand out in the '80s. There are, for sure, echoes of the '70s here, but everything is given a glossier coat of paint. Somehow, this approach is not distracting, and Bobby Womack is up to the challenge. His lyrics are at times sensual, fun, and tragic, and his voice is *incredibly* powerful. In short, he's a strong enough figure to take this from a good R&B album to a real stand out. So Many Sides Of You, Lay Your Lovin' On Me, and Where Do We Go From here are some of my favorites here. I give this a really strong 3, it's a *solid* album.

This is one of my favorite albums ever; let's start there. I think this is one of the peaks of the '90s singer-songwriter scene, and it's *probably* the crown jewel of Will Oldham's discography. I See A Darkness is Gothic country music, taken deathly seriously. This sounds like ripple across a pond, it sounds like it was recorded on the moon. It's pure Americana songwriting, but the twang is just replaced with an all encompassing stillness. It's a remarkable cleanness, but it is achieved while still sounding organic and raw. And the lyrics and vocals get this all the way there. In contrast with the crystalline sound of the music here, Will Oldham sings shakily, and his lyrics jump between anachronistic, clever and straight up vulgar. But the collective effect of it kind of disembodied "Bonnie Prince Billy" as a character. The implicit narrator here feels angry, but frightened and quiet. There's a really unique obsession with morality here as well. I believe Will Oldham said that the title track is kind of about entertaining the idea that you are ontologically evil, though you wish to do good. There are songs about being evil through laziness, songs about companionship, and songs about accepting death in order to wrestle power away from it. And, like I said, this is all narrated with an incredibly unique, dark tone. And with this all going on, the stillness of this album makes it feel almost scary. Even the most fiery moment here, Death To Everyone, feels restrained and patient and measured, almost like a dissertation, even while it seems like it could boil over. Every song here is a masterwork of modern Americana, taken to a place that is, on some level, truly haunting. It's gorgeous, it's depressing, and sometimes, it's weirdly triumphant. But this gets my highest recommendation, and is one of my favorite albums of all time.

A combination of detailed, well-ornamented folk and 2000's indie. While it sounds like shouldn't be especially interesting on paper, I am actually really fond of this project. I usually like my folk a little more lo-fi, but I kind of naturally appreciate this as 2000's indie instead, and for some reason that helps a lot. The clean sound of this works well with the very precise arrangements and pretty songs. It almost sounds twinkling, and it really works for me. There are lush guitars, textural percussion and gorgeous harmonies. It helps that the songs still feel earnest and tactful despite this. It's kind of a baroque take on pop songs that I like a lot. Two Weeks kind of makes sense as a hit, it kind of has an immediacy that is really valuable for a hit. But some of te deep cuts here, like All We Ask, Fine For Now, About Face, and I Live With You.This is one of my favorite *albums* from the late 2000s indie rock era. These are great songs, executed with a lot of poise and creativity, and they make Veckatimest well outlive the era it's from.

Honestly really solid, *surprisingly* solid. I wasn't expecting a ton from this as it seemed just kind of like classic rock/Americana revival, but it is quite a bit more than that. I'm reminded of The White Stripes (although they were kind of contemporaries if I'm lining the timeline up right), I'm reminded of Springsteen, and I'm reminded of American folk tradition. But there's something very decidedly transformative about the way it's all handled. And honestly, there aren't really any tricks this is held together by the quality of the material here. Everything is written just as sharply and detailed as everything else, whether it be on the muscular songs, the rootsy ones, or the pretty ones. Honestly, what's really stopping me from giving this a four is that it's a long one, with a lot of songs, and I just really don't think I've digested it all. But I like what I hear!

This has been on my peripheral for a while now, and I do have to say that I'm impressed. Since I Left You is plunderphonics executed to the peak of it's capabilities. This thing is made out of art turned cultural detritus through lost vinyl records and films. And The Avalanches make it a new and vital form of art. Basically, they are building a bridge to the future out of the past. And this really *does* sound futuristic. This would have sounded just as right coming out last decade, or even this decade. Perhaps timeless is more correct than futuristic then. But The Avalanches touch on Hip-Hop, electronica, House, ambient and more. There are cool songs, danceable songs, and beautiful songs. And the magic is that the samples that this is made out of can still kind of be recognized and enjoyed as the things that they used to be too. Frontier Psychiatrist is one of the easiest highlights here. It features some of the most creative sampling I've ever heard. But Since I Left You honestly flows like a single piece of art, most similarly to a DJ set. Sampled elements are carried between songs, as are rhythmic and melodic ideas. It ends up remarkably cohesive. I think this is an easy 9, however that isn't really an option here, so I'm gonna hold off on the 10 for now, but know that Since I Left You is *extremely* good.

This one was a lot of fun. A lot of psych bands reach into thr same bag of reverb-y tricks, but The Coral have a pretty unique identity. They opt instead to dip into an incredibly colorful mix of psych-folk, pop rock, and perhaps most importantly, a variety of world music, including Eastern European, Latin, and Jamaican music, plus more. The result is not *especially* psychedelic, but it is enjoyable, colorful and unique. Holding this together is a theatrical presentation and kind of vaguely nautical aesthetic. To be honest, this *could* have been ridiculous, but The Coral sell it, in particular because of their energetic songwriting, and in part because they manage to deliver this album with a straight face. The Coral *are* quirky, but they're not a joke. Spanish Main, Skeleton Key, Wildfire, I Remember When, and Calenders and Clocks are some thst stick out to me as being particularly fun and eccentric. Also, it's not on Streaming (that I know of), but Time Travel is one of the best songs on the album. It was originally a secret track, and has a really unique sound, and equally unique lyrics. While this maybe isn't the psych album I was looking for, it is something else that I like just as much. The Coral is creative and weird, and honestly *probably* a little underrated in contemporary music listening circles.

This is a really special record, but I'm not gonna lie, it demands a little work from the listener. This is genealogically an emo album, but it has a lot of post-hardcore, noise rock, and some proto-mathcore too. For the uninitiated, Yank Crime was Drive Like Jehu's second and last album, and it is an emo album in kind of the "DC Emotional Hardcore/Screamo" sense, although the kind of sour melody construction here, some of the guitar work, and the ultra-emotive vocals are definitely recognizable as more familiar emo on some level. Although Yank Crime burns way nastier than the midwest emo of the time, or the pop-punk stuff from the 2000s. But, even compared to the rest of the sound they kind of slot into, Drive Like Jehu's Yank Crime is kind of it's own beast, and I think some of it is that they play this album almost like a noise rock record, just through their performances and soundscapes. But regardless of how it happened, Yank Crime is kind of a legendary, untouchable classic for a lot of people, and it was *really* influential to a laundry list of incredibly cool bands. I've listened to this a good couple of times in my life, and every time I like it more. Honestly, the very first time I checked it out, I barely even understood what they were doing. Yank Crime is a dense enough record that I honestly think it's almost impossible to appreciate on first listen, in a way that reminds me of an album like Jane Doe by Converge. It's a combination of the sprawling song structures, skronky riffs, and the chaotic sound. But once it "unlocks", you can't really go back. I've listened to this like three times today, and it *actually*, *honestly* gets better every time. At this point, I basically think that every discrete song is pretty much a self-contained masterpiece of intensity and precision. They were just operating on a nearly *unattainable* level of consistency, creativity, and construction here. And once you start peeling back the layers of difficulty here, you really start to see just how much melody and dynamics are baked into their sound. Eventually you realize that this is *really* catchy stuff. Even mangled barnburners like Here Come The Rome Plows and Golden Brown. As odd as it sounds, I actually think think that the longer songs here are kind of the way in for newcomers. Stuff like Luau, Do You Compute, and Sinews stretch the sound out a little, and even if the components aren't really easier to listen to, they bring the dynamics of this album forward, and give you just a little breathing room that kind of serves as the doorway to figuring out what the hell is going on with this thing (note that I have excluded Super Unison, because, while it's one of the better songs here, with some of the best passages on the entire project, it *does* begin with 28, uninterrupted seconds of excruciating, genuinely piercing feedback that *will* scare people off, if only due to the physical pain it can cause if you aren't expecting it). This is one of the albums here that I *really* implore you give a few listens. It's also an album where, if you don't like it, I probably can't convince you that it's actually a jawdropping masterpiece of the genre. It's something where I think you need to choose to embark on the journey the album sets forth, and it really forces you to come to your own conclusions. *But*, if you *do* decide to go on that journey, and if it *does* grow on you, I genuinely think that Yank Crime is one of the most rewarding albums in the entire lineage of punk music.

Leonard cohen is back with his early "Evil Bob Dylan" persona. Evil may not be the right word, but he certainly takes singer-songwriter music somewhere dark and strange and biblical. I will admit that of Cohen's sublime first 3 albums, Songs From A Room is definitely the worst, but it isn't *much* worse. His striking poetry is still in full force, that's for certain. And there are some of his absolute best songs here. Bird on the Wire, Story of Isaac, The Partisan, and The Butcher in particular. Bird on the Wire is and indisputably classic, with evocative mouth harp playing. Story of Isaac is the peak of Cohen's biblical references. The Partisan (to me) conjures the sadness that I get from accounts of World War 1, I don't know why, but it just makes sense to me. And The Butcher is minimalistic in composition and burning with an undeniable fury. On some level, these songs are all jaw droppingly gorgeous, even if in a dark way. And honestly, much of the album follows. I will say that I don't like Lady Midnight all that much though, and A Bunch Of Lonesome Heroes comes together a little awkwardly, although I like it more than a lot of people. Also, after seeing another review mention it, I noticed that there are a *couple* moments here where Cohen's lyrical meter slots pretty awkwardly into the songs here. While not quite on the level of Songs Of Leonard Cohen, or Songs of Love and Hate, Songs From A Room is a great album in it's own right, and a worthwhile badge on a fantastic discography.

Singer, songwriter, Velvet Underground alumni, noise cellist and Hallelujah coverer John Cale delivers little of his bread and butter from the Velvet Underground years, but he *does* very successfully reinvent his art, while maintaining his identity on Paris 1919. If you are a fan of The Velvets, there's a good chance you're aware that John Cale was kind of the band's secret weapon. On their first two albums, his searing, wounded cello playing was instrumental in establishing the band as a classic act within the world of avant garde and noise rock. But on Paris 1919, he is much quieter, delivering a masterful collection of baroque pop songs instead. But at their core still lies the understated attention to detail, exploratory spirit, and creativity that one would expect, given his past. Andalucia, Paris 1919, and Antarctica Starts Here are probably the brightest moments here. Andalucia is kind of mesmerizing, Antarctica Starts Here Delivers on it's promise of chillies, and Paris 1919 prominently features his incredible cello playing, which I could honestly do to see more of. My biggest complaint, aside from the aforementioned absence of cello, is that Macbeth kind of interrupts the flow of the album, with something more driving and rock centered than anything else here. Also, this could do to be just a *touch* longer. But John Cale has something great here that feels worlds away from his older work, while maintaining his identity. I don't know whether or not this *is* his most essential work, but it's certainly worth listening to.

Hell yeah, belt sand my fucking skin off Napalm Death. An album only for irreparably noise warped minds and people who go to cozy leftist coffee shops, Napalm Death deliver regardless. Full disclosure: I've seen them live (more than once), I own a shirt of theirs, and I'm wearing it in celebration of having an excuse to listen to this thing. And while I don't think this is their best album, I do think it is a conclusive mission statement for grindcore as an entire genre. If someone asks you what the genre is, you could read some paragraphs off Wikipedia or just play them this. Although, if you are wondering what grindcore is, and that isn't a satisfactory answer, I think of it as the base principles of punk and extreme metal, fused together, and driven to their logical extremes. It's all 300 BPM blasts (I'm fairly certain that they invented new drum techniques to record this), 40 second songs, tar pit bass tone, and insane vocals delivering surprisingly well constructed anti-capitalist tirades. It's sheer *excess* as a glorious artform. So much so that after side A was recorded, the *entire* band left, except for driving force and drummer Mick Harris. Then everyone else was replaced. Consequently, this may be the only album ever to prominently feature two *entire*, *discreet*, iconic lineups. To be honest, the entire genre's something of an acquired taste, but there really isn't much out there like it. I think there are more iconic songs on side A. Instinct Of Survival, Scum, and Siege Of Power are some obvious standouts, mostly out of virtue of being more than 2 minutes long, but they are some of the more obvious moments of great song writing and dynamism here. Instinct Of Survival has a surprisingly catchy, Scum is built around the interplay of grind sections and an absolute *classic* doom punk riff with one of the most fucked bass tones ever recorded. And Seige Of Power is a more solid establishment of the link to an emergent Death Metal Scene that would be expounded upon in the genre's future by bands like Pig Destroyer, Carcass and other classics including Napalm Death themselves. But even past these, on future listens, some of the less obvious highlights start popping out, on this listen I found myself really into Polluted Minds, Sacrificed, and Human Garbage, but the longer you spend with this thing, the more the writing clicks as you start hearing past the noise, and the consistency at the heart here is really remarkable. I'd also like to shout out the legendary, immortal, ~ 1 second long You Suffer, something that feels like a real statement here, which would feel like a joke anywhere else. Side B doesn't have nearly as many truly iconic songs, but the slight experimentation of it already started expanding the boundaries of a genre that Napalm Death were basically inventing on the fly. Also, this side really pushes the formula to it's limits, with the *vast* majority of these songs coming in at less than a minute, and the longest at a monumental 94 seconds. The breakneck pace and redlined intensity are honestly a treat on their own, but much like on side A, you slowly start appreciating the songs here too. There is an impressive efficiency to the writing, and I think it's part of the reason they were able to try new things here, like different effects, and more dynamic vocals, and creative guitar work; if you don't like a song, just wait like 20 seconds. On this listen I found myself really enjoying Life?, Point Of No Return, Success, C.S., Parasites, Moral Crusade, Stigmatized, and Dragnet. But, much like Side A, you slowly realize just how consistent the songs here are as you break through the noise, and honestly, it's just a matter of what leaps out at the moment. This also, consequently means that it feels like there's plenty to keep discovering on Scum: through sheer density alone (28 songs in 33 minutes). If you held me at gunpoint, you could probably get me to admit that this isn't perfect, and that Napalm Death have better (or at least more immediate) albums. But it's one that's a 5 to me. It's *incredibly* enjoyable for the type of album it is, *and* it's utterly, *improbably* successful at it's goal. There wasn't like a period of figuring it out, grindcore emerged fully formed from Napalm Death's head before we even *really* figured out death metal. It's like when you learn that the parachute was invented before the plane. And if you liked this, and think it's as exhilarating as I do, I would urge you to dig into the genre a little (Pig Destroyer, Nasum, Discordance Axis, Brutal Truth, and Terrorizer are a good place to start), But it all started here. Scum is a very particular kind of classic, for a very particular kind of person, but if it *is* for you, there is no substitute.