Reviews by giddy

An utterly boring album that drags on for far too long, with melodies that would make a Christian pop radio station blush, and the lyrical content isn't too far behind. Its slow, but it isn't lush, it has layered production, but there is nothing dreamy about it. Just an utter waste of time, only really challenging to your grandparents. The CD era was a blight on the music industry.

It's amazing how quickly Led Zeppelin turned around and put out another record in the same year with an even stronger track listing than its predecessor. It's not unheard of, but its just rare enough to be impressive, and considering there's some great tracks here, you can tell they were having a creative overflow. The album itself is extremely solid, with great, memorable riffs, a solid thumping beat, and bluesy guitar just rocking enough to not be repetitive and therefore, dull. The album loses its momentum as it goes on, and could stand to cut off a few tracks (although you can tell Moby Dick was purely made to be a live track that would go on for ages) but otherwise this is an album where you can only see the upwards trajectory the band was headed in.

Jazz Samba is smooth, its classy, it feels like living a day in stereotypical 1950s/1960s new age corporate North America, but it also lacks something. It is great as a coherent record you slap on in the background of your day-to-day life, ignoring the music itself, but even diving deeper for a moment you'll kind to find there isn't much there. Its elevator music, and while I like my fair share of what many call "muzak," this needs more layers than it presents to be anything that'll stick with me. Its a pleasant time whilst listening, but I doubt I'll remember the music itself much longer. I'll take the beautiful vocals of the Gilberto's any day.

I'm almost 100% sure that the reason the Rolling Stones are so big in the United States compared to other British bands from the time (save for maybe the Who) due to their insistent need to make themselves "countey," that way it appeals to all those with an affection for country rock. Now, admittedly, Rolling Stones are better at it than the average country rock group, but as someone who can't stand the genre most of the time, this isn't that much better. Mick Jagger's voice never is pleasing on the ears, and a lot of the tracks here can blend together, despite being pretty varying in sound. It also has lyrics here that feel questionable at best, such as "We all need someone to cream on," which just left me feeling awkward. Rolling Stones at thie point seems to have completely abandoned any sort of psychedelic influence by this point, which is a real shame because their best tracks came from a mixture of bluesy rock and that era's brand of psychedelics, see Paint It Black. It leads to this album being a really sobering experience compared to its contemporaries, and in an era of so much experimentation, this feels too safe to be all that special. I get why it has its fans, especially for those who grew up with it, but for a more modern set of eyes, I'd question choosing Rolling Stones over any of their British Invasion siblings, and this album is the perfect example as to why.

The intro had me worried that I'd be thinking more of Kraftwerk than Bowie whilst listening, but by the middle of the album I was very much enjoying myself, and by the end I would consider this an extremely solid album, full of those long, dreary songs that I tend to love, and this oppressing atmosphere that I believe only David Bowie's production could pull off so well for another artist. Do I admittedly believe this album would be all the better were Bowie singing here, and at the end of the day is it more Bowie than Iggy? Perhaps, but that isn't to discredit Iggy Pop, because I believe his lyrical additions suit the music well, and give it this of punkiness that I think others would struggle to grasp. In that way it feels like a remix album of Stooges songs, where someone with killer production skills completely flipped Stooges songs on their head, and I think that really works in its favor. I still don't think too much of those first two tracks, and on a short album that can really kill it, but the rest of the album is top notch stuff. Could see this being a higher score someday, for sure.

Man, the synths and bass riffs on this album are DIRTY. Like, they're sick as well, and were this album completely instrumental, I could see myself liking this a whole lot more, as it has so many cool sounds, especially for 1994. However, my issues with this album lie in the angst of it all. If you like that sort of thing, that's awesome, I can dig some anger every now and then, but at over an hour long, this album tends to go from cheesy lyrics to just being a bit dull by the end, and while Trent Reznor is certainly the mastermind behind this album, instrumentals and all, I still think his singing is more cringeworthy than piercing, and it leads to a lot of awkward moments, I feel. However, when this album sucks you in, dear lord is it surprisingly funky, and that mood, which is more prevelant in the first half, really skyrockets the album for me from the depths of "ew" to a more understandable "oh, okay!" I can totally see why one would consider this one of the best albums of all time, just a little too much 90s-ness for me.

I was actually surprised by the ferocity of this record at first, with the opening track really feeling like the pinnacle of "proto-punk" and while it wasn't really my thing, I could respect it. However, that feeling was quickly subdued by the rest of the track listing just being rock 'n' roll standards performed with a blown out speaker. The energy is there, but there's no balance present on the record, going as fast as you could for 1965, but I feel it just causes the album to be dated and repetitive, as for most of the tracks all I can think is "Oh, the Beatles did this, but those are their worst tracks," and while I know that isn't fair to the Sonics, it doesn't help to know that this was basically made obsolete by the wave of rock coming in the late 1960s, and by the time punk was emerging, the Stooges seems like the more obvious influence. This just feels like Jerry Lee Lewis on steroids, and at the end of the day that's still boring rock 'n' roll, even if it is raw for 1965, it doesn't feel it holds much prevalence today. Its okay at points, but hardly feels essential, and that scream he does on every track can be grating very quickly. Check it out for punk origins or if you like simple rock 'n' roll classics, otherwise don't bother.

This is a very noisy album, especially as it goes on, and while now I'm more accustomed to albums attempting to destroy my ear drums for better or worse, I'm glad I did not listen to this record back when I first heard of it a year or two back, as I would have been ill prepared, and taken it on this album. However, that isn't to say this record is good, in fact I'd say its still a hard listen, but not for the noise, rather because it can be painfully mediocre. Songs constantly have really good ideas that seem to never go anywhere, and stretch things out to ungodly lengths for the sake of what I assume is art. I'm all for noise, but my favorite part of noise is those little melodic beats you can still pick up in all the chaos, and this album lacks that for the most part. There will be a part here, a part there, and sometimes the album mellows out enough to be boring yet enjoyable, but when it desides to yell at you, it'll do it for what feels like dozens of minutes at a time. I respect the space-y quality of it all, and for 1989 there are aspects here that feel ahead of its time, but otherwise its a slog that I can only imagine is too droning to be catchy, but too pop-y to have a life changing experience in the dark of the night. It just exists more than anything, and that hurts it greatly.

This is as generic as you can get for what many would call "classic rock," and while usually that would stand to mean inoffensive, I do find this album grates on you as time goes on. To be fair, I have a negative Aerosmith bias, so I already wasn't looking forward to it, but so many lyrics here are that creepy, cheesy, and sleazy suaveness that makes my skin crawl, and while vocally the album is competent, it still isn't anything groundbreaking. The only saving grace for me is the instrumentation, which is extremely solid, and leaves to some really catchy moments, were Steven Tyler not squealing over them. It isn't a bad album, but it feels just safe enough to be disingenuous, and songs like Big Ten Inch Record don't help that claim. Oh well, its fine, I guess.

Similar to acts like Sublime or even at times the White Stripes, this album is an inoffensive take an a niche sub-genre of blues rock that feels more trip-hop than blues, with repetitive beats and a rap-like flow to the singing to ensure even the least interested listener is bobbing their head. However, this album here leaves a lot to be desired in an already aged genre, as the CD era strikes again and takes this decent twenty minute concept of an album and stretches it to nearly an hour, with no variation to warrant the time spent. You won't hate your time here, but you'll most likely not gain anything either.

The CD era takes yet another victim with an album that has every right to be a solid albeit forgettable indie album in the forty minute range, and instead drags it out another twenty-five minutes, killing any and all momentum found at the start of the second, and only finding its footing when its too late and the album has turned into a throbbing lump of 90s, with nothing to set it apart. Saving this one from going off the deep end for me particularly is that it would be solid on a song by song basis, and that final track, while derivative of its era, is very solid and catchy; a solid homage to the Beatles, better than anything Oasis ever did, any way. I really wanted to like it, but halfway through I just gave up. No one track is bad here, it just struggles to earn its length, and left me disappointed more than upset.

An utter chore of an album to listen to, with music that your dad and grandfather can agree is good, but in a way that isn't a good thing, rather only scares you. It bores me to tears at most points, and is only saved by some good instrumentation and a decent down tempo track at the halfway point, that reeled in me just enough to not despise my time here. I respect if you like this, because you must see something I don't, as all I hear is music that is too safe musically, and often times questionable lyrically.

First impressions of Pere Ubu's first outing may make you think they lean more "punk" in the post-punk realm, especially due to David Thomas' vocal inflection, yet as the album goes on it opens up a bit, and you start to get that more dreary sound associated with many a post-punk album; stir in a woeful saxophone and some waxing poetic lyrics like reading off the random items in the room with the band, and you've got yourself a 70s art punk stew. It has its moments of greatness, such as the before mentioned sax and some great out-there moments that channel David Byrne more than anything, however it often misses the mark in the melodies department, in which I often struggle to remember a single tune after its over, and as the album gets more and more formless over time, the issue only grows more with it. You'll always be entertained by the record, and at a brisk thirty-seven minutes some experimentation is more than appreciated, but one has to wonder why to choose this over any other post-punk band for their needs, and it doesn't make an argument, just tries to please you while you're there, then send you on your way. Like a stew, its filling, but never a main course if you can help it.

I wish the audio quality of the album was better, as I feel many of the tracks would benefit from a heavier sound that blows your socks off, and instead it feels like you're just listening to a band off in the distance. Still, what can be salvaged is usually pretty good, with some great parts sprinkled in to keep the listener interested. Sometimes it gets a little too punk flavored for my blood, but there are great, juicy bits of grunge to snack on throughout, and including instruments like the organ and harmonica help it stand out. Its nothing awe inspiring, but I enjoyed my time listening to this.

I've considered myself a System of a Down fan for quite some time now, but I have then realization every now and then that the only two albums by them I've properly listened to are Hypnotize and Mesmerize, which I know aren't exactly the two big ones. Luckily today I can finally change that by listening to their debut, and quite a debut it is! I'm normally more down for their more out there stuff found on the later records, instead of this heavier, nu-metal influenced sound, and I'll also say I'm missing Daron Malakian's voice, but otherwise this album makes up for all of that by just being an incredible metal album. Every note feels purposeful, rather than just being technical noise with no melodic qualities, and the more the album went on the more I found myself absolutely enveloping into the rawness of each yell and silly little scream produced here. Its powerful, while still having a lot to say, and while the album is perhaps not as memorable as those hit tracks as their career goes on, in the moment of this record playing I don't care, as it is just so gut punch-y. It never annoys, it never is a bore, and its pure, avant-garde, bliss, in the heaviest of ways.

While it suffers from the same issues as most punk albums, that being extremely repetitive, it also has plenty to stand out against its other famous punk acts. Not only are Jello Biafra's vocals iconic, charming, and really suits the lyrics that are coated in so much irony they feel more earnest than any other punk act, and the alien-like guitar playing lends itself well to it all. Songs blend, but you're never gonna feel like resting while listening to this, instead you're gonna feel like causing havoc, and other iconic punk acts from the time can't say that, I feel.

My family has always hated Pink Floyd for just being "noise with no substance," and after hearing Wish You Were Here (the album) I thought they were crazy. However, I'm wondering if they only ever heard this album, because this feels a lot less special. Songs seem to drag and have long introductions for little reason, and while the song topics are intriguing, its hard to take them seriously when you remember that basically the whole plot of the album is "sympathy for the ultra famous musicians," or at least that's what I took away from it. Obviously Syd Barrett is excluded here, but it just feels a bit too much like the band is tooting their own horn here. Its more nuanced than that, but it doesn't feel like it. I also feel that the guest singer on a few of the tracks is extremely cheesy, and ruins the experiences she's on. Its not ethereal to hear her singing, it's jarring.

Otherwise, you know why this album is good. Great instrumentals, iconic status to the point of everyone knowing the album cover, in which only a couple bands have achieved that, and there are good tracks here, such as Time and Money, it just feels too self-indulgent to be anything revolutionary for me, and in comparison to some of their work before and after this, I don't fully understand why this is THE Pink Floyd album.

The CD era really was a terrible time for concise, solid throughout albums, instead opting for throwing everything in the artist could that would fit on a disc, and it leads to albums like Teenager of the Year. Frank Black has some solid ideas here, with that signature feeling of Pixies throughout, but it feels like something is missing. What's missing, of course, is the rest of the band, but also those intricate decisions of what songs were deemed worthy of an album are gone, instead allowing for far too many tracks on an album that could be cut down to 1/3 of its size and be better for it. There's good playing, good song-writing, and strong enough melodies to be found on the whole project, but after an hour it all starts to feel the same, with little to help it stand out.

Usually the thing that saves these sorts of "choose your car!' 90s albums for me is the vocal performances, as they usually have one or two tracks that save the album from complete monotony, despite all of their insistent needs to be over an hour long. Not this album though, all the vocal performances are so dull, or even straight up suck, and it makes every song suffer when they are there. It doesn't mean the instrumental tracks are much better. They're just as forgettable and robotic as every other house album from the decade. It just all feels so cold, not in the good way, and I fail to have a single thought worth writing here as I listen. Its all just so tedious, and when you've listened to quite a few of these now, it really makes the whole genre look worse.

An album that you don't expect to be standable for those not really into the genre, but is overall an easy, albeit tedious, listen with moments of quality sprinkled into something that is just too long for its own good. The best parts were when they were all talking because it was far more interesting than the equivalent of your grandma going through the hymn book on her piano while you sit there, uninterested, but too afraid to leave. At first I liked the instrumental tracks the most, but putting as many in a row as they did left it feeling tired and repetitive. Again, easy listen, but not worth the time spent.