Reviews by giddy

Extremely stripped down compared to the Dylan I'm used to, but it is honestly extremely refreshing, as while melodically I prefer the later era's fuller sound, the lyrics here are so easy to just dig yourself in to, and Dylan's voice is honestly so charming here. People like to say he can't sing, but I feel like this album shows he can subdue his cadence, and make something that is pure, unadulterated folk. It may feel like it checks out too early on the album, with a lot of the B side being filler or just not as good as the A side, but there is a lot to like here, and it's honestly just impressive that Dylan could come into his own only two albums in. In a world full of jazz and classical, this album really put us into a new realm of music, and I think it deserves a lot of credit for that. The British Invasion may have flipped pop and rock on its head, but this flipped songwriting on its head.

Al Green has a great voice for his line of work. It is oddly aged for how old he is (twenty-five on this album) but still has a pep in its step that keeps the grooves and funk moving, while feeling completely and utterly earnest. These may be love-making tunes, but it never really slows down, save for the Bee Gee's cover at the climax of the album, and so with its brisk speed and short length, you can let this album absorb you in a simple lunch break. Sure, it may be a tad derivative of other soul acts, and in retrospect the influence Al Green had ensured many other singers would try to sound like this for decades to come, leading to an influx of very similar sounding tunes, but Green pulls it off the best if you just want something to get you through the day. I love the fuzz of the album, too, as it makes the whole thing just feel warm. A nice juxtaposition to the cool (in both temperature and style) looking Green on the cover. Not my favorite soul record, but certainly wins me over more than most, with just the right amount of jamming and love to win me other and get me, at the very least, tapping my foot.

I truly despise the late 80s, it ruined many things it dared to touch, including many great artists, and while the finale to Kate Bush's "holy trinity" is still a good album, even as someone who isn't the biggest Kate Bush fan can recognize this is the obvious lesser product. It really does start to grab hold of itself by the final couple tracks, and morph itself into something harrowing, with big moments and revolutionary realizations about the world sonically, but most of the album feels like dated, half-baked ballads with synthesized instruments galore. There's little nuggets of something good buried deep down, but it feels more interested in being the people pleaser, and it can leave me feeling bored over its relatively short runtime. It can drag, but those moments of quality do keep you going, and the reward at the end is worth the time, I'd say, but I can't help but feel that all uniqueness, all quirkiness, all charm, is lost here. This feels like an okay enough late 80s pop record, but it doesn't feel like only Bush could've made it, and that left me disappointed. There is a silver lining, and that's that I'm only more excited to listen to her other projects more, and give them a proper time of day once and for all.

I've not come in contact with the Byrds album that bridges this and Younger than Yesterday, but it must have some explanation, because this full-on, honky tonkin', rootin', tootin', cow fed country album is not what I really expected this band to go with after listening to albums like Fifth Dimension. It often feels like parody of country music, with lyrics about God, killing wives, and rotting in jail cued up with the same twang that could send thousands of farmers to the jukebox in seconds, and lyrics that bow down and rhyme to no man. It's quite honestly a bit sickening, and as someone who feels they've come around to parts of country, this generic stew of country """rock""" may have been one of the first, but it certainly had to step up from this. What keeps me from outright hating this is those bits of Byrds-like songwriting that made them so good with the pop scene, the psychedelic scene, and I can only assume the country scene. It is easiest to catch in the opener and closer, where it feels as though the band took an already written song and added some sound effects to give it that authentic country charm, but still be a Byrds song at the end of it all, but I'm going to have to agree with the fans from '68 on this one, this album feels like a bit of a betrayal after everything leading up to it, and while perhaps it is influential to a big genre, being influential doesn't always mean good, otherwise I'd like Yeezus, too. Now that I think about it, I promise you I'm the only person comparing Yeezus and Sweetheart of the Rodeo. Can't really tell you what that means, but damn if it doesn't mean enough for me to call it a night.

I fell in love with Astrud Gilberto's somber yet cozy singing whilst listening to Getz/Gilberto, she was easily the standout performer there, as I wasn't expecting the non-credited singer to be the best part of my introduction to proper bossa nova. It only makes sense, then, that she got a solo career to rival her ex-husband and many other vocal performers from the time. When this album is trying to capture that same spirit as Getz/Gilberto, sans the titular leads, it still works really well, as Astrud's voice is just meant for that easy-listening, elevator music style, and I mean that in a good way. It's so lounge-y, as if I'm stepping into a picturesque version of the 60s, and even the more "high-energy" stuff that appears throughout still works pretty well, such as the final track which reminds me of something that'd be found on an album by Stereolab or Komeda. However, there are a lot of moments here that try too hard to do something different, and really ruin the mood. Parade is straight up not good, and while some of the other songs that are just as repetitive are better, they still are too short to do anything interesting, and when you get tracks like that back-to-back-to-back, it can be kind of draining. It really does shape up in the back half, I feel, and I even think the song with her son is cute, albeit not a song I'd listen to in my free time. Is the album anything spectacular? Absolutely not, it isn't an album I'd consider even a good showcase of its genres, but Astrud Gilberto's voice is oh so sweet and the whole album is so light and breezy that it is difficult to look at the album with too critical of an eye. It's just an enjoyable time, and one that gave me my fix of bossa nova, although all I realize now is I need to listen to her earlier solo albums, as I can only assume those are more what most are looking for out of Gilberto.

I knew the Stranglers for the song Golden Brown, and that was it, so admittedly this gave me a little whiplash, as its punky, crass personality doesn't fully coincide with the dreamy, drug-filled expedition that I took the band for. However, that doesn't mean the album is bad, as the bass playing and the keyboard are both absolutely stellar, and make most of the album for me. The early tracks especially, are stellar punk tunes with enough post-punk influence to be good times. The album does start to lose me a bit as it goes on, however, and even the big tracks such as Peaches and Grip weren't grabbing a hold of me, but I could certainly see this being a grower if I ever decide to come back to it. It really just misses the mark for being too repetitive, and not quite manic enough for the Doors-like organs and straight up dirty vibe many tracks give off. I think just a bit more pep in each song's step could've really improved this for me, and I'm hoping that's what some of their later albums will do for me.

Perhaps it is because I'm sick, it's storming, and I just feel generally gloomy, but this album really hit for me. It's like if Pavement was put through the Americana machine and given a few extra twangs for good measure, but some of the lyrics cut so deep and are so devastatingly dripping with loneliness that I felt like I was on the verge of tears whilst listening. His voice took a bit of getting used to, not being quite as smooth as other acts in the genre, but again, that only draws more Pavement comparisons. It's actually kind of ironic, as this is one of the few albums where Stephen Malkmus didn't partake, but the slacker sound permeates still. It's intricately produced to feel like being alone at a bar, but still be the epitome of a big hug when needed most, and I overall just really vibe with this sort of stuff. I can't quite cross over to that pop country sound, no matter the era, but this wallowing bottomless well of an album is exactly what the doctor ordered, and I'm living within it.

Influential, and Dre's production is fantastic, a pinnacle moment in hip hop history, but the lyrics are mixed, with a lot of points that still ring true today, but tons of homophobia, sexism, and a general view of violence for the sake of fun. It is hard to even say "that was just the time period," as groups like Public Enemy already had It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, something far more nuanced with just as good production. However, it is tough to deny the impact here. I mean, you still have people quoting the first two tracks' opening lines constantly, and there are tons of production moments that overshadow the lyrics so much that it is easy to tune out anything too hateful, but sometimes it just felt like being edgy for the sake of it. It spawned so many careers that did go on to create greater projects, but when it comes to classic hip hop groups, easy to put NWA on a lower bracket if this is their best material.

Enjoyable jazz that is extremely thin and forgotten mere moments after listening. That isn't to say the album is bad, but the whole thing feels like it is meant to be the soundtrack to an old Disney Silly Symphony. Y'know, the things that Disney used to sync their animations with? The music is okay enough, but it just feels like jazz music purely meant to elicit relaxed vibes, and nothing more. A soundtrack to an Olive Garden, perhaps? Or something more spicy, like the Old Spaghetti Factory? Either way, the music is sound, it's fine, but would you catch me listening to it in my free time? Hell no. The instrumentation is fine, the variation is fine, the improvisation is fine, it is all FINE. But there has to be better jazz coming out of the mid-80s, yes?

Wow, I re-listen an album I liked before and find out I actually love it? Who Could've guessed something like that would happen to me! Sarcasm aside, this album is magnificent, with a hard-coded display of jazz rock at its instrumental finest, with a sonic blast of buzzing organs, complex drum patterns, and bass playing that is just subtle enough to feel like a texture that keeps my mind fuzzy. Even better is the third track's vocal performance via Robert Wyatt, who's voice I adore to no end, and I really soak in each word he speaks, as, alas, this is our only moments with him vocally. I originally was turned off by the opening track for being too all over the place and nonsensical, and while it is still the weakest track, I can wrap my mind around it just enough to love the parts where all the instruments explode at once, or when the music reverses and goes forward at the same time. Assuredly a sick experience to see live, and the rest of the album's non-live performances are also top-notch. Figures that I like it when British white guys do crazy, long form jazz instead of albums like Bitches Brew. Because I'm a bad person. Ah, well... someday that album will click with me. Maybe. Probably not. But this one does! This is fantastic, and worth the re-listen just a month later!

I like this more than their later work, it has an edge to it that feels genuine and angry, and even if they aren't so good with their grammar (it's) the songwriting feels just haunting enough for you to relate if you've gone through any of these feelings, and disturbed and worried if you haven't. However, the mix doesn't match the tone, as it feels really flat and doesn't allow any particular moment to shine. So, there are tons of great hooks and memorable moments, in theory, but by the end nearly every song sounds like the last, and while I enjoy the general sound enough to see it as a good time, I could also see it being a slog for those just wanting to rock out, and feeling blue-balled the whole time. Still, I think this effort is jarring yet catchy enough to win me over, and while Manic Street Preachers still haven't won me over completely, I can see why this is the defining moment for them.

My partner is gonna kill me for this... this is the best Led Zeppelin album, and unless I get around to Houses of the Holy and that shocks me to my core even more, I can't imagine it will be topped. Sure, the final side is pretty iffy, with only the Wanton Song's guitar being something amazing, but the rest of the album is exactly what I want from bluesy hard rock. Great guitar riffs, varying vocals, memorable soundscapes, and a whole vibe that makes it no wonder that Led Zeppelin was such a big influence on the garage rock revival. If anything, I was shocked by how much of a standout Kashmir ends up being, with its instrumentation being unlike anything else on the record. But, again, that's what makes this album truly great, is they take a frankly insane concept such as thinking we needed a Zeppelin double album and making it work. It could be shaved down, sure, but then how would one come to appreciate what feels like a send-off for the band? Old, cut tracks that certainly aren't hiding (I love having my titular track on the album after!) and songs that feel like love letters to not only blues rock, but their contemporaries, and even themselves a bit. It is an album with all the swagger one of the biggest bands in the world would have, and I cannot deny it its greatness, even with some filler at the end.

British folk seems to be like the European equivalent of classic American country music, and in that I mean that I can find it enjoyable, but often times it is a swing and a miss. This album took until near the end for me to truly understand what I was listening to, because at first I thought it was just folksy and had the lyrics to back it up, but the final two haunting, existential tracks really did something for me, and made me realize that the whole record was lonely snapshot of spending a night alone in thoughts. I still have issue with both singer's voices, as they can really drag in some of the more "up-beat" tracks, and still most of the songs lyrically are typical "I'm sad and alone," but those final two tracks really boosted this for me into something I can see the appeal of, even if the genre isn't totally my thing still.

Blah blah, Morrissey bad, music good, blah blah... mentioning it every single review is redundant, so no need to harp on it here. Morrissey shows on this album that he recognizes the second British Invasion he helped spawn and takes beats from Pulp among other similar acts to create a very consistent record, with that usual whispery, lackadaisical crooning Morrissey oh so loves, with a dash of relatively generic instrumentation to create a record that is good, but never great. It has those driving, alternative riffs and that thumping percussion to keep things moving, but he knows you are here to love or loathe him and his voice, so he is mainly the star of the show. If you want an album that is definitely aging, but still has enough to come back to, then I think the melancholic tone fits best here since his departure from the Smiths, but I find myself preferring Viva Hate because it sounds fresh and like he's roaring to make his own music. This album feels like he has been there, done that, and knows how to make you happy in the cockiest of ways, and I have to admit this is still got enough good parts to win me over.

It is strange to me that this is an album "you must hear before you die," yet no album by Dagmar Krause's band, Slapp Happy, made the cut. If you know anything about that band, you would know it is quite a bit better than this, or at the very least deserves it a little more. This album can be daunting, as despite its average runtime, the amount of tracks in juxtaposition to the lack of variation can lead to a lot of songs whizzing by with very little to recollect later, and it leads to the majority of the album being forgettable, even to the point of annoyance by the end, but I'd be lying if I didn't say the sappier, more musically well-constructed material had me more intrigued. Krause's voice is not stereotypical, but it is technically impressive at times, and I'd say the strange delivery combined with the off-tempo instrumentation lead to a lot of moments where I think I could enjoy this in small bursts. It is hard to tell, as the songs not being on streaming means I can't quite remember a favorite or two to listen to later, but I know they were in there, and while that was bound to happen with a whopping twenty-two tracks, I still have to give it some (Stockholm Syndrome-esque) credit. It isn't a good album, and I can't recognize why many would come away from this confused and angry at what they just listened to, but I think it barely scrapes by as just weird enough for it to be barely up my alley. You won't see me recommending it to anyone else, though, and it certainly isn't an album to listen to before you pass away.

I had to listen to a Frankenstein of a version of this album via YouTube because apparently at some point recently this album got stripped from streaming, and it doesn't feel worth going out and tracking down a vinyl for an album I already know is going to be anywhere from mediocre-to-not my thing. Tom Petty's voice isn't bad on a surface level, but it always sounds like he is a nerdy kid trying to hold in a sniffle because he has a cold, and it can be noticeably bad the longer you sit and listen. Not helping things is that this album just doesn't have the star power throughout. Yes, American Girl is a classic, and that guitar solo at the end is great, but do the rest of the songs hold up? No, not really... it just leaves this album feeling like it is the epitome of 70s dad rock, which is ironic, because my dad can't stand this guy. Either way, the album isn't bad, it is actually mostly inoffensive, but I have no thoughts after listening that I didn't already have from his hits. His deep cuts aren't spectacular, and the singles are baseline good, but don't reach the upper echelons of classic rock, so this album just feels like it exists. Really easy pill to swallow, at least; that run time is fantastic for this kind of music.

You flubbed it right at the last moment! Ah, well... this album is extremely well done, with great guitar playing and singing via Jack White, and even if you don't like the style you cannot deny that this style is undeniably his. Meg White may be a basic drummer, but it gets the job done, and I'd say the constant thumping tempo allows things to hit even harder on tracks like The Hardest Button to Button. What really makes this album shine for me as opposed to their prior work is how hard it goes in on the rocking. Very few songs let up here, and even tracks like Ball and Biscuit at their most bluesy feel like garage rock at its finest. For a majority of this album, I could only classify it as something great. However, unlike White Blood Cells, that's what makes the folk-inspired tracks, such as the before mentioned final song, stand out negatively. On their own they would be solid, but in the context of the album they tend to kill the pacing, and while tracks like I Want To Be The Boy To Warm Your Mother's Heart feel like they're supposed to be the We're Going to Be Friends of this album, they end up feeling lesser and overall unneeded. I really want to bump this album up to that next tier, but with a flaw like that really striking the album down at the very end, plus an odd thirty seconds of silence (on my version any way) makes me sit there in relative disappointment. Still, that does not detract from the fact that this album has some excellent songs, and is for the most part some of the best rock we got in the 2000s. Just a couple of things that me feeling unfulfilled, albeit still satisfied.

I think I hate this era of rock, where if you weren't trying to figure out where you were in a post-Beatles world, you were copying the Rolling Stones' "I miss the old days of bluesy rock 'n' roll" shtick, and boy do I already dislike it when they do it, so when I have to listen to another lesser artist do it worst, with a voice that sounds like he's choking on gravel and instrumentation only fitting in a Celtic rock record, my blood boils. This is just not a good album, if it has hits I wouldn't be able to tell them apart because they all sound the same, and I knew this would be pandering to the "good ol' days" the moment a song that has already gone on too long ends with Amazing Grace. Talk about pandering, and while I know Rod Stewart can make good songs, I've heard them, I didn't find a single good one here.

I think five albums into this band's discography, I can officially say I'm not really a hater nor a fan of R.E.M. They create plenty of songs I enjoy, and can even make an album or two that I would define as "good," but whenever I have to sit down and check out another one of their albums, I sort of just sit there in disinterest. I'm not a fan of Michael Stipe's voice, and it feels like the later you get in their discography, the more he plays it up, but at the same time the instrumentation is solid. Albeit, it is a bit generic, but I do enjoy enough of it to say an album usually comes out somewhat on top, but I really feel like I never needed to listen to all of this from them. Any song that does catch my attention here seems to refuse to have a bridge or climax to change the song up, and it leads to me enjoying the first two minutes consistently, before realizing I've heard everything the song has to offer. There are the hits here, and they're okay, but they follow the same formula, and it all just comes up empty for me. I'd say it is burnout, but I've listened to these albums so far apart from each other that I think I can accept it just isn't for me, much to the chagrin of my mother. Sorry, mom. At least you were right about the Smiths.

The first time I ever heard this album about two years ago, I found it bad, but in a funny way. I found the relatively crass language to be so blunt that even though I cringed at nearly every lyric, I was also having a grand ol' time due to how funny it was, intentional or not. However, I look back on that outlook on this album in a negative light. It is juvenile that I couldn't get past her being insecure about herself and relationships because she said "pussy" one too many times or something, and I feel having some more experience with music under my belt, I'm able to understand the plight a little more. Don't get me wrong, I know the album has its jokes, just listen to the way Kendrick Lamar says "pussy," it is obviously light-hearted, but it isn't lyrics formed without some amount of weight behind them. It is tonally repetitive, as lyrical content orbits around the same three or four issues with slightly different perspectives, and I wouldn't say the language is the most creative, despite being quite colorful, but it is a solid foundation on top of what is a solid singer and great production. I'm a big fan of those lo-fi, melancholic guitars that come in every other track or so, as they're just spacious enough to give SZA time to get her licks in without being ambient. I do think it leans into that bedroom pop aesthetic a little too hard, and could maybe benefit from a shorter runtime to compensate, but I enjoyed this project a lot more on a second run, as I find myself not necessarily relating, but vibing with its tone and message. I think SZA can create a great pop hook, and if this isn't your style because it's too chilled out, or too "inappropriate," check out her more recent hit Kill Bill, it's great and really had me re-examine modern pop as not just a dumpster fire to hate on just to be "unique." There's great music in every corner, you just have to keep your ears and mind open.