Reviews by giddy

I am not a fan of the late 90s, early 2000s R&B infused pop sound. That made it so that this album had an uphill battle from the start. It did not succeed in overcoming these prior biases, but it was inoffensive, at least. I agreed with most of the messages presented on the album, but found them getting repetitive over its nearly hour-and-a-half runtime, and the sound itself changed very little as well. There were more hits here than expected, but I still fail to remember them despite their popularity, and the whole thing is just of its time. It isn't bad, but every passing day makes this age worse, not due to its message, but rather the aesthetic behind it. Just a bleh feeling, it's hard to put into words, but it is easy to recognize when you go through it all.

This album was commercially successful to a fault, leading to me today finding this extremely obnoxious and repetitive. Would I have thought that were these my first time hesring half of these songs? Maybe not, as I suppose her voice is interesting enough, and it's predictable but standable 90s rock, which I generally don't have a problem with. However, we don't live in that world, and instead all of these songs bleed the exact same "girl power" energy, leading to absolutely no difference between each one, and at nearly an hour long, with even a duplicate song closing, it's at nauseum. I have no problem with empowering albums, and if this is the one for you, that's awesome, but this comes off like the most commercial form of it. A "girl's world" t-shirt. An Avengers Endgame shot. It's just so bland, and feels like something to strike just the right chord, appeal to everyone, and make a bajillion dollars. I guess that's the best thing you can do in this world, is stick it to the man and prove these kinds of songs can be big hits, but when four or so of them still play on the alt-rock radio into the 2020s, it's hard not to get sick of it.

The deep cuts aren't much better, some of them are even worse, I'd say, but I guess at least they were new to me, and I'll probably never think about them again. It's not the worst thing I've heard, but I was some form of exhausted by the end. Disappointed that the deep cuts didn't prove my prior notions wrong, but at least I don't have to be one of those people obnoxiously saying "the deep cuts are better!" every time one of these songs come on. That may be more annoying than the album itself, I'm sure.

Far more Flaming Lips adjacent than I was expecting, as I was expecting something more ethereal and space-lie. Instead, you have this tinge of 90s nasal with an alternative synth aesthetic to make the listener really feel as though they're truly on some otherworldly shit. It really only succeeds in this effect, however, in this department on the first track, where the blowout really strikes me in a way not unfamiliar to Ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space, and just like that album, it similarly feels as though it is trying to chase that initial rush for the rest of the album. Luckily, it doesn't feel too up its own ass, with lighter, pop-ier tracks to ease the dreamy haze, and the hidden track really achieves this lighter effect. It is a flawed album, but one I can respect more overall. I think this neo-psychedelia movement just isn't fully my cup of tea, and that's a bit of a shame.

If there is one thing I think Bob Dylan's albums stir in me, it is a hope that they'll catch something more on future listens. They do just enough to keep me interested, but the deeper cuts always take two, three, four, maybe even five listens before they tend to click. That's how it was with Blonde and Blonde, and I still think Bringing It All Back Home would benefit from me listening two or three more times. Dylan is fantastic at making the listener want more, and even if on initial listens I only find his releases "good," it is safe to assume in half-a-year I'll be singing the praises of one of his albums, just like everyone else.

Highway 61 Revisited is no different, with exemplary songwriting, solid instrumentals that are just amateur and raw enough to be clear why this was such a shock to the folk audiences of 1965, and Dylan's voice isn't even generically poor here, despite the best efforts of those to discredit him. It hits every note with an emotion many artists strive for, and very little achieve, matching his music perfectly. Even if you find yourself bored musically, the lyrics will at least keep you invested even on the longest of tracks. Despite all of these qualities, I still fail to see past the musical flaws that this album is still too folksy. It can be repetitive, every track is a minute too long, and fails to have the variation found on the next album in his discography. This sound may have been risqué in 1965, but in 2024 it is mostly expected throughout its fifty-minute runtime, and can leave the listener fatigued. Not helping is the frankly boring closing track, which hardly has the hit power possessed in the opener, despite perhaps being the second-biggest track on the album. It has amazing highs, such as the back-to-back Ballad of A Thin Man into Queen Jane Approximately, but there are still kinks that will leave those ill-equipped bored, and in-turn, develop a deeper disdain for Dylan.

Perhaps his most critically praised, but in my opinion, not a starting album for the musician, but rather a wonderful twilight on the general era this was produced. Music was changing, and Dylan decided to completely uproot a very traditional genre in the most fantastic way possible, but roots are roots, and those roots negatively affect this album the longer time passes. Dylan as a purely folk musician peaked here, but he had far more room to grow.

That all being said, I promise you within a year's time I'll have this at a five star and think it is the best of its whole year. For now, though, I struggle to push past the couple barriers keeping me back from seeing this album's full potential. Still a great album, I continue to get the Bob Dylan hype.

Repetitive and in that aspect very punkish in its delivery. Most of it comes off as raising Elvis from the dead, but it gets that rebelliousness back in his wake, and while it doesn't do much for me, you can still respect the craft. It's fuzzy, noisy, and very slimy, and I think that is exactly the style the Cramps wanted. I think it could've just benefited from either a way shorter run time or more thought put into each individual song. Do yourself a favor if you haven't already, and listen to Human Fly by this group, as it gives off the exact same vibe while being leagues better and still pretty short. In conclusion, average LGBTQIA+ friend group.

Pretty generic, feeling like if Michael Stipe of R.E.M. decided to have a slightly harder sound for an album. In-turn, sacrificing anything unique about R.E.M. I realize the singer here, Bob Mould, was in a band that was a relative inspiration for Stipe, Hüsker Dü. But quite frankly both R.E.M. and even this album are far more interesting to me than their output, but I digress, this isn't really about them. Basically, this album is dull. You have a lot of generic power chords, repetitive vocals and lyrics, and just a general 90s vibe that leaves a lot to be desired. It isn't bad, but you won't find anything here that most other bands from the time don't do better. Considering the album gets softer as it goes on, one has to wonder if they front-loaded the album with the more forward bass riffs and rougher guitar effects because the rise of grunge spooked them. I mean, it was all happening while this album was being recorded, so it would make a bit of sense. It was financially successful, but assuredly you won't be getting anyone saying this is their favorite album out of the alternative 90s scene. As I said, it's just dull, and just kind of… exists.

I've known the Message for a while now, everyone has, but what I wasn't expecting was this goofy little album attached to it, and I still don't know if I mean that as an insult or not. It's never a dull moment, you got the early stages of hip hop, you have some disco elements, you have synthesized voices that would make Kraftwerk blush, and oddly you have ballads and gospel. Everything here doesn't fit together at all, but they try and smash it together in such a way where it's kind of like watching a movie so bad it's good. Except, this hypothetical film has a relatively profound albeit dated ending that shaped its genre long after. The gospel track genuinely made my jaw drop when I realized what was happening, and nearly every track before it (especiallt including that Stevie Wonder track) wasn't far off in terms of my sheer bewilderment. It actively feels BAD, but I was having a good time, and I guess that has to count for something? I don't know, stick with the titular track if you're looking for serious origins of hip hop and not something to laugh at for thirty minutes. Honestly? Funnier than most hip hop skits of the 90s.

My favorite album of all time, No.1 In Heaven by Sparks, is often said to have influenced many synthpop groups from the 80s, including New Order, Erasure, and, yes, Pet Shop Boys. However, the Pet Shop Boys themselves have either always avoided this fact, or in ways denied it, and as someone who has only spun singles by them, rather than a whole album, I hadn't a clue as to why. It turns out this reason is because they know they don't hold a candle to it. Perhaps that is an unfair comparison, but this album feels a tad bit like a direct response to the high-energy driving tempos that defined the late 70s, early 80s electronic scene. Instead, we get keyboard-coated, monotone vocal semi-ballads that only tend to pick up speed when the album, and honestly, sales of the album, need it. I mean, it certainly has lovely tracks to share. It's a Sin is one of the best of the mid-80s, and honestly the entire B-side is solid, albeit a little long-winded. There are layers upon layers of electronic bliss to dig through here, and to top it off, even the album cover is pretty funny. But something about this album just feels off to me. It doesn't feel like it even attempts to speak to me, and can come off as sterile; not in a cool, robotic way like Kraftwerk, rather in the sly, particularly British way that can come off as dry, but in turn can also come off as disinterested. There isn't a rewarding tug-and-pull between listeners, and it still suffers from that infamous 80s sheen that makes everything too clean production wise. It is certainly a good album, and no one could deny the effect this had on a niche, pop-focused musical market into the 90s. But as time passes, this becomes all too similar to the new wave it was trying to break away from. Really, it's a sin that this album doesn't lean into that energy that the hits have, as they are just powerful enough to leave me feeling fulfilled despite its flaws. However, I can only see improvements being made upon this formula. As it stands, I leave with mixed feelings, but a slight edge to the positive side of things because I can only assume the band did improve. I assume this was not just another drop in the 80s “one solid album wonderland” bucket many of their contemporaries fell into, and I look forward to confirming that theory in due time.

An admittedly somewhat predictable yet quality A-side, the real show here is the entirety of the B-side, with not a single miss for a single one of the SONGS. Quite frankly, counting B6 doesn't really do that much damage, as it's short and somewhat endearing in the same way snippets of a Beatles interview is unnecessary but has its own charm. Back on track, however… The Beach Boys, especially Brian Wilson, show their dominance over their knowledge of how to warp songs around intricate melodies that may seem like the usual doo-wop shindig at first. But once you dive into the pure melancholia of the whole record, you can tell that something deeper is stewing. I don't mean to imply that this is proto-Pet Sounds, as it still has those early band stereotypes that leak out before and after the golden age of Beach Boys: The somewhat strange Don't Hurt My Little Sister or the generic Dance, Dance, Dance, but there is that glimmer of hope shining here. With a B-side as stacked with perhaps not commercial hits, but still some of the best output of 1965 lyrically and just in terms of pure mood and feel. It's not hard to see why this is considered the start of something greater. Add in Brian's always gorgeous falsetto, a cool Dennis opener, and I guess Mike Love does okay (for once) here. You could argue this is the peak of the Beach Boys as a band, rather than one leading voice, and I could see why some would prefer it that way. It certainly has its hiccups at the start, but I see this as essential listening for the whole Beach Boys experience.

This album feels very generic to me in all facets. The name of the band feels like the first thing a bunch of bikers would think of when naming a band. The music feels like a weird Lynyrd Skynyrd copy with some more soul stuff thrown in. Really, the thing as a whole just feels surface level. It isn't anything offensive, but it drags, with repetitive lyrics (it is blues rock after all) and a general formula of building the song up way too quick. The final two-to-three minutes of nearly every track tend to feel useless, or at the very least, annoying. It tries to do this deep-down “I love you so” soul thing a lot, but it feels disingenuous. The lead singer, Paul Rodgers, just doesn't have it in him to swing with the best of them, but I suppose I can respect the trying nature? I don't know, when I listen to this I only think of better 70s rock to listen to, and very little else. Guitar playing is the best part, but it's still forgettable. Not technically a “bad” album, but let's just say the band and album name is apt.

Surprisingly versatile and varied, with plenty of genres being displayed at a pretty competent level, and with influences on hip-hop so early in the genre's lifetime, it is done relatively well. I think the gimmick of the album is interesting, too, being that of a radio show that's the "best" on the airwaves. While actually catching most of these songs in the middle of the night would scare me more than anything, its basis is pretty solid. Most of the songs are cheesy, or even arguably annoying, and it has far too much filler for what could've been a very solid, early case of plunderphonics, but it's fun enough that I'd say I enjoyed my time. Certainly not essential listening, you really only need two or three tracks to get the whole picture, but I'll admit I'm at least pleasantly surprised, albeit more so than actually in tune with the music at play.

While this album may be a little less casually listenable than Freak Out! while also having a far more vague message involved, this album still manages to blow the listener's socks off with its utter bizarro approach to music. It still has a lot of that doo-wop, tongue-n-cheek pop flavor, yes, but it also injects some hints of ketamine to really cause a sort of dreamlike effect that can go from being a bubbly wonderland to a nightmare in a matter of seconds, and that approach to music, especially for 1968, is not only nerve wracking, its flat out impressive. There are hardly any songs here that start at A and end at Z, but the snippets you do get of pop are not done poorly, as they are still incredibly thought out, catchy, and could swing with the best of the genre they satirize. You can tell Zappa does not hate the music he parodies, rather his inspiration from it takes him places very little others can even see coming, and it leads to not only great tunes, but an oddly thrilling narrative one can hardly piece together, some soundscapes straight out of a horror film of the future tucked in with some pixie dust to always ensure that you're willing to keep going. Sure, it's creepy, but it's also so playful about it that you often find yourself still loving what crumbs are given to you, and for an album to jump back and forth and do it all so well is easily commendable. I can't imagine turning most of this album on for any ol' reason, it still has this energy that very little even today could replicate, and for, again, 1968, that's amazing.

I was never a big fan of Fun House or Raw Power, but I at least understood the importance of each album as a display of aggression and noise that was a major player in the shape of music for the rest of the 20th century, but this is just lackluster. It doesn't have that subtle groove found on Raw Power, nor the angst found on Fun House, just a vaguely bluesy Mick Jagger impression with some sparse production that can leave the album feeling noisy but not aggressive, as if playing with blown out speakers is the only advancement needed to be seen as visionaries. Sure, the lyrics are blunt and forward and the instrumentation is crass, but it doesn't feel punk, it feels amateur, and when up against its two younger siblings, it hardly holds a candle. Add in a frankly unnecessary cultist chant that nearly runs 1/3 of the album's runtime, and you've got yourself something that just feels hollow. Perhaps in 1969 I'd be blown away, but there is very little reason for this album now, and I feel Iggy Pop's solo ventures really trump above all.

A haunting, more Halloween-esque take on post-punk, which may seem like an obvious connection to some, but boy does this album go the extra mile to make it feel like Halloween night. You've got the upbeat costume party songs, the haunted house tracks, and you've got songs that just genuinely make you tense up, like walking home alone at night. However, the album isn't droning, instead still having those energetic drum and bass (not the genre) pick-ups to get you still grooving despite the unease, and Siouxie Sioux's vocals are just unique, especially since having a female vocalist is oddly rare in the genre, at least when discussing the big players, so for her to stand toe-to-toe with the best of them is not only impressive, it's a critical achievement. Pull it all together with tight songwriting, and a relatively quick album, and it's not hard to see why they're considered one of the heavy hitters of the genre. Spooky yet catchy is starting to become one of my favorite things an album can be, and this is a subtle yet impactful banger. Now please put it back on streaming!

An album that is hard to pin down, both on the outside and the inside, is a tricky thing to pull off well, as a poor mix of styles can cause an album to feel distracted, while the vague image presented on the cover can lead the listener to think of many genres before something like sophisti-pop comes to mind. So, with that initial run down, you may expect just another longue-y new wave run with perhaps some rock roots due to its leather clad, motorbike riding cast of characters. What you get, however, is far more fascinating, with those jazz infused keyboards and sleek guitar riffs being assuredly sophisticated, but that Thomas Dolby production leads the record to be far more in depth, with great, moving musical passages, more change-ups in some tracks than some twenty minute prog masterpieces, and just a consistency between each track that can always make you dance and sway with the best of them, and sure those Dire, Dire Docks-ass sound font may be cheesy, but do you really care when you're being carried into 80s pop bliss in a way every other album from the era can only dream of achieving. It narrowly avoids cheesy and is instead incredibly endearing, and Paddy McAloon's vocals benefit it even more so. It's more lush, more passionate, and more thoughtful than its contemporaries, and with the very underrated Horsin' Around being like the perfect bittersweet odyssey to really carry the B-side to the finish line after an amazing A-side and let the listener ride the last three tracks off the highs it produced makes it easily one of my favorite songs from the era. It may feel like bona fide 80s gleam, but for one of the few times in musical history, that is certainly not a bad thing.

It feels like two things are happening in this album, neither of which are very good. One: he is trying to make music less synth and drum machine heavy, and more gospel-like. Admirable, but does feel generally like going against the grain for the sake of it, as this stuff comes off as just as generic as the music it's trying to avoid. Two: Terence, now Sananda, is doing his best "not Michael Jackson" impression. BY that I mean, he sounds just like Jackson at multiple points, but often goes into ranges outside of Jackson's usual location purely to bring as little attention to it as possible, but it's hard not to spot. That makes me feel that despite this album trying to give off a vibe of the second, err, third, err, fourth coming of soul, it really just wants to be famous, no matter the means. I don't know this for certain, but it certainly gives off that feeling, and hey, I'm all for generic 80s soul if you do it right, but you gotta wear that generic sound on your sleeve, or you'll just be the one looking weird in a crowd. It has some decent tracks on it, and most of it is forgettable, but inoffensive, but I would struggle to sell an individual this record on any means other than maybe his voice, but even that feels fake. It tries its best to avoid the plastic sound of the 80s, and only comes off feeling like a different brand of fake. Alright, but certainly fake, and no amount of frankly terrible breathy pure vocal tracks are gotta fix that. Skip As Yet Untitled to save yourself from the most uncomfortable six minutes of your life.

This kind of comes off as "the thinking man's nu-metal" for better and worse, with cringy, poorly aged moments of record scratching, poor rapping, and lyrics that could only move an angsty teenager to tears, but admittedly it is far better at creating compelling hooks than its contemporaries, and even has some musicianship that is quite commendable, with some really high quality bass-lines, and admittedly that record scratching, while dull within a song, is quite commendable as a nearly four minute solo, to the point where I'd put it above most of the actual songs here. It's a mixed bag of mixed emotions, and it leaves my rating feeling just as mixed. All that can truly be taken away here is that Stellar is the only true song worth salvaging today, but that isn't to say every other song is bad, just poor in modern lenses.

While I could see this as a somewhat fun album in very specific scenarios, it mostly comes off as repetitive, aged, and almost a parody of itself. It uses the exact same drums for the back-beat on multiple tracks, or at least so similar that its hard to discern, and none of the songs leave a lasting impression due to their stripped back production and just general "old school" vibe. I'm 100% sure in 1989 this felt like the birth of a new era, because this album sounds like the 90s, but thirty-five years later it feels goofy and hardly as soulful as the R7B acts of the prior decades, nor as dance-able as the house acts of the following. It's just kind of sitting there now, perhaps influential at one time, but now only remembered as a product of its era. The dude's voice also reminds me of Jermaine Clement, and I cannot decide if that's a positive or a negative, but it certainly doesn't help my "parody of itself" mindset.

Well, this is a bit of a surprise. Despite seemingly being the favorite of early Beatles, I always considered this the worst of their whole discography, or at least tied for Beatles for Sale for that position. However, I apparently never listened to the harmonies on this record, because there are some gorgeous, breathtaking transitions here that floor me for 1964. I mean, this shows the Beatles weren't just a boy band, but a band with a near perfect bond that made some great pop songs. That isn't to say there isn't other great aspects as well, such as the increased quality in hooks and musicianship. I mean, some solos here are not only good, but damn good, and its just an overall solid package. My main issue is the album starts to drag with the copious amounts of "I'm gonna hurt my girlfriend" songs, to the point where its hard not to see why John Lennon was viewed as an abuser. Those songs are rarely fun, catchy, or even rocking, they're just lacking in so many areas that it really drags the album down with it. Other Beatles albums have this issue, sure, but this one feels like they're trying to hammer it in by the end, and it doesn't feel bluesy, it feels like the closest thing to admitting domestic abuse. Otherwise I would definitely see the best of the early era, and it may just be even with those issues.

While I enjoyed their prior album, Stand! I was still anxious that I wouldn't "get" this album, being as I don't consider myself a funk version at all, I openly admit that, and my partner, who admittedly has not heard Stand! is not a fan of this release. However, I'm happy to say I quite like this release, and while I'm sure I still don't "get" it fully, I do at least enjoy it quite a bit. The groove within the grooves of the vinyl don't always get me funking, other than some great bass playing, but what I truly appreciate here is the melodies. See, my issue with someone like James Brown was always that I felt every song tended to feel like a carbon copy of the last, but here you can tell songs apart extremely well, and I'd even say there's some tracks here that focus mostly on being catchy pop tunes, such as Smilin' and Runnin' Away, and do an incredibly good job of adding a solid chunky texture to these songs to really make them stand out, and I think it rounds out the album marvelously. It does still have my usual qualms with this sort of stuff such as some of the tracks going on too long (this could easily be a flat forty minutes) or just the fact like songs like Family Affair don't hit the same as they did some fifty years ago, but they're more nitpicks than anything, and I totally get why this would be considered a vital part of the music canon.