Reviews by giddy

I've always got to give credit to the creators of glam rock, as while some of my favorite bands and singers, such as Sparks and David Bowie, would still exist, they would not be the same without Marc Bolan and co.'s influence, and show how good they are making one of the best record's in the genre very early into its lifetime. However, I do think some flaws with the album peek their head in as the album can feel sort of repetitive, and I think it tends to be too mellow, never really exploding into something that forces you to listen like most glam albums. Its sensual, but never makes its move, y'know? This is still a great time though, its smooth, Bolan's voice is fantastic, and there are some certifiably amazing songs in this one record to make it a worthwhile listen.

YouTuber Elliot Roberts once called this "the first grunge album," and while I don't think that is the most apt title, the amount of honesty and anger pouring out of this album is rivaled by almost no other record from the time. John Lennon seems at his most visceral of any point in his music career, with more guttural screams than you can shake a Midwest emo band at, and lyrics like "I don't believe in Beatles" to really show that he is done with it all. It truly feels like a personal project more than an album for the common man to hear, and I imagine in 1970 that was shocking for many Beatles fans ready to follow John anywhere after Paul """broke up the Beatles."""

However, despite this thrilling deep dive into the mind of perhaps one of the more misunderstood persons in popular music, there are flaws here. The album feels like it tends to ride on the trauma epicenter of it all, and it can lead to barren tracks that are just not enjoyable to listen to. Sure, that makes an exciting first listen, but it does not encourage repeat visits, and can make some of the songs very forgettable musically, despite the enthralling lyrics. Due to this, the album feels like it doesn't earn that magnum opus status that tends to be lauded upon it, with John's usual musical know-how seemingly lacking without a backbone like Paul to reel him in. Its a picture of a broken man with a lot more on his mind then it felt he let on whilst in the Beatles, but as a musical journey the music does not add much. Still, a decent romp, especially for a first listen.

This is an infuriating experience, although not one where I'm begging for it to end, or checking out halfway through. Instead, it is an album that causes anger due to utter lack of intrigue. Perhaps over across the pond bluesy rock 'n' roll was a novelty, and this made the snarling grip of it finally take hold on the British populous, but from a US state of mind, and for that matter a modern set of ears, this is just dull, repetitive blues rock with nothing there. The same guitar riffs are used two or more times on the album, it never has any variation so that you'll remember the songs, and it almost feels like a science with how generic it is. Perhaps it isn't, and this is utterly shocking for 1964, but I know for a fact that blues was not invented by five British white guys, and there is no reason to check this out if you have any experience with the history of the genre. Even as someone who doesn't like blues, this felt like a lower low for the genre than usual, and the lack of anything original does not help that cause. I'm sure this is interesting to see if you're a Rolling Stones fan, and I know it helped open up some of Europe to blues rock, but sixty years later this is a blemish more than something to present with honor. Best part of the whole thing is the album cover; I'll give them that, Rolling Stones make a good album cover more often than they don't.

This is just bland, with any interesting influence from the singer being in Drive Like Jehu only being viewed through some decent guitar licks and perhaps a lyric or two. Otherwise, its hard not to see this as anything more than a predecessor to groups like Bowling for Soup and other pseudo-pop-punk outfits. Its harmless most of the time (although his voice can be rough) and the addition of horns reminds me of Alice Cooper more than anything, but this is nothing special, and would fail to stand out in a line-up of other garage rock groups from the time.

This comes off as a joke more than anything, especially if you've listened to thier prior album(s). Its as if they were spooked by the overwhelming success of Come On Eileen and decided that fame was not for them, and did everything in their power to ensure they did not have a successful follow-up. That all culminates in an album that shows signs of the same fun found before; there's great violin work here, and when it does decide to pick up its feet, it can be just as fun, even if that fun is packed into a needlessly long track.

However, even if they are in on the joke of the silliness of being a down-tempo, almost country-like band, that doesn't mean its all that funny. His voice seems worse here for no real reason, and the amount of rambling is insane. You could cut this album down a solid ten minutes were we to remove the talking bits, and him singing doesn't tend to feel all that more strenuous.

Overall its just a huge step down, and as someone who for some reason has listened to some of their most recent albums, this "joke" seems like its what they really wanted to do, and good for them, I guess, but I understand why this didn't take off.

Well, this is honestly kind of deflating. I was hoping for my first experience with Talk Talk to be some major, life-changing experience where I opened my eyes to the Joy Division of the late 80s, but this is very dull. Every song has the same production issues that I have with most late 80s album, and while this feels a lot more genuine, often using real instruments, it still has this hint of mainstream appeal that cannot be shaken off. I don't inherently have anything wrong with that, but then I feel it at least has to be catchy, something to grab my attention, and this certainly isn't. Everything flies by and drags at the same time, and never is it a moment to remember one way or another. I'd perhaps look for solace within the lyrics, but they feel unintelligible most of the time, and when I can tune in, they seem repetitive and its hard to discern any meaning behind them. I really am broken up about not liking this, but this album really feels like a colors on the cover, various shades of a muted brown-ish tan, and not much more. There's no vibrancy, no reason to excite, nor any dark colors to bathe yourself in. Its just, there.

R&B has always been a very hit or his genre for me, with greats like Marvin Gaye or Stevie Wonder being masters of not only their craft, but tend to run circles around others, whilst groups in the 90s tend to annoy me at best, be some of the worst music I've heard at worst. When we get to the modern era of R&B, however, I'll admit I'm very in the dark. I mean, I know artists like Drake hit those mainstream checkmarks to count as a R&B artist, and there are smaller cases of stuff I know, but it is assuredly a blind spot in my music taste.

So, here comes Frank Ocean to open up that horizon a bit more for me. Now, I obviously know of Frank Ocean (although I'll admit I didn't know the difference between him and Billy Ocean at first) but I had literally never heard a single track by him, other than a meme video parodying it back in the Vine days, so this was a new experience. However, I knew the modern classic that is Blonde existed, and plan to listen to it very soon, but I knew very little about this release. Frank Ocean with this single album, though, has completely opened my eyes to one of my blindspots. That's not to say I now know every little thing on the genre; Hell, this is technically "alternative," so it could very well not represent the genre at all, but at the very least this release puts into perspective a big portion of music I've been sleeping on, and I hope to correct that soon.

The instrumentation is catchy and funky whilst still oozing you into the groove, no drugs needed, and can allow any emotion to seep into the music without much issue. Ocean's lyrics are also very poignant, reflecting on moments that are easy to relate to whilst still having a deep sense of personal feeling sfrom him himself. Every feature also fits into the album perfectly, never being overused to make up for what may be lacking elsewhere. It is a very cohesive project that is extremely good at its own art.

Not every track is something worth going crazy over, and I do think that is the biggest flaw here, is variation. There is plenty of changes in tempo and subject matter, but it all feels like one coat of paint, and that would be great on a shorter record, but at almost an hour long, things can wear thin in seemingly random places. The amount of interludes feel unnecessary, and it can sometimes feel like the same style of track get thrown back-to-back, rather than being spaced out, leading to awkward pacing, but when this album gets it right, it really nails it.

If there's one thing this album does for me, its that it gets me hyped for Blonde better than any one figure's word of mouth does, and I'll be looking into listening to that record in the coming days. Until then, this was a solid venture into unknown territory.

I was not expecting to think this lesser than the listenable case of Stockholm Syndrome that is Trout Mask Replica, but this album is far more dull than anything that album came up with. Replacing odd time signatures and recognizably talented instrumentation is boring bluesy rock 'n' roll with a singer who doesn't have a great voice, and nothing more. There isn't anything overtly ironic about this record compared to Frank Zappa's band at the time, and even if there us I'm not picking up on it. This record is probably a solid enough time if you follow the garage rock scene from the era, but this feels more like "predictable as milk."

This is non-music to me, with that roots rock blues that go in one year and out the other, with no in-between. I can recognize instruments, singing, even lyrics, but to me this is the bare minimum in which music can be. Stewart's voice is that high pitched gruffness that you find a lot in music like this, but otherwise it is completely unnotable to me as a record. No bad moments (save for his voice in the beginning when you're getting used to it) but certainly no good moments, and isn't that a worse offense than something being so bad its entertaining? Maybe so.

Nearly a decade after Blonde On Blonde, one would figure that Bob Dylan would start to slip as a songwriter, and would not even touch the greatness that was his mid-60s album run, and while this is technically true, I can't imagine anything topping Blonde on Blonde for me, this does attempt to get pretty close, which is impressive for an artist fifteen years into their professional career. This album contains the type of "white guy with guitar" shtick that I actually enjoy; introspective lyrics, soulful guitar playing, and sometimes another couple of instruments in there to really bring the point home. The more blues-folk-rock tracks near the middle do disrupt the album in a way in which it doesn't really recover, but that A side really does the trick at being a solid showing when for most artists this would be the peak of their careers. This, however, just comes off as a good, but otherwise inoffensive part of Dylan's career.

An album that feels as though it is teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown throughout its runtime, we start with a song that is rather pleasant, almost noise-pop rather than rock, with an almost dance-y quality to it, like a mid-era Sonic Youth song, yet by the end of the album it feels like the band finally starts to snap, and you get screaming with harsh yet catchy guitars and some great drumming, and it all fits into this package of music that I live for. I love the catchy qualities, the noisy qualities, and all in-between. It does at points start to lose some meaning, becoming music that comes in one ear and out the other, but it is certainly worth your time as a record when you are at your highest and lowest.

When looking at the genres for this album, you may expect something closer to David Bowie, perhaps The Stooges, or maybe even KISS. What I was not expecting was the Rolling Stones performed by another band. Obviously these are all original tracks, but everything exudes the same energy as the rock 'n' roll tracks you'll find on Exile on Main St, with very little to make it feel like its own thing, save for a lyric or two being a bit more eclectic comparatively. It leads to an album that I'm sure is fun for that roots rock approach with a tinge of punk mentality, but in my eyes it is an album with a poor singer (and not gruff; poor) and songs that tend to drag, which the album itself does. There are times where it decides to be more appealing and take a momentary break from the electric guitar, but then the before mentioned vocals kill it for me. At best, you're listening to something that would probably be more fun to actually perform than listen to, so boot up that copy of Rock Band and go at it, I guess. I'll sit this session out, you have fun.

I suppose we're having a "I already listened to this" sort of week, although unlike ABBA, this one stays in the same place it started for me. It is certainly Alice Cooper as a band's best album, but the album suffers from forgettable tracks all throughout, and while some of the most iconic from the band's career spawn from here, it really suffers from those boring tracks. That being said, I love when this album ditches the rock n roll sensibilities and goes for a more theatrical approach, it was what Alice Cooper (the person) was born to do, and fits the creepy style far more in my eyes than boring Who-like guitar solos. I do sound like I hate this album, but there is plenty to like: the lyrics still generally hold up, and the whole album has this feeling to it like it was so immaculately planned that there are no flaws to see. It feels all born with a purpose of being on this record, which is interesting considering Elected I believe was a couple years old at this point. A good album, but Alice Cooper's solo work was always his best (and worst) material, and this only sits somewhere in the middle of it all. Scraping by with its score here.

As someone who has gone through ABBA's whole discography (for some reason) I have severely underrated this album. It used to be an issue where I thought only of this album as the Dancing Queen album with some super underrated tracks like Dum Dum Diddle and Tiger, while most of it was forgettable, and while I still kind of think some of the tracks due have this forgettable quality to them, the album as a whole is top notch. The bass playing is on point, the vocals are strong throughout, and the whole thing oozes that pop charisma the band is known for whilst hardly ever slowing down, save for a single ballad that has good, slowed down grooves to ensure you never stop jamming. Sure, the ending is a little unnecessary, and there are still iffy moments, but as a whole this is an album I really should have appreciated more years ago, because this is nonstop heat, in that ABBA only kind of way.

This album feels sort of like if Simon & Garfunkel decided to hire a bunch of musicians to do whatever they liked overtop their harmonies, and I mean that in a good way, but also that it could be better. There's weird, psychedelia infused guitars mixed with space-y effects that feel like Psychedelic rock is finally coming into its own, but while that makes the overall calmer lyrics more of a novelty than anything, it does feel weird to have tracks stating the usual "gonna kill my wife for cheating on me" lyrics while someone goes ham on the strings. It works sometimes, while other times it doesn't. I think Beatles were mastering the craft already at this point, and the Byrds just didn't want to let go so they could really launch into the stratosphere here, instead they still seem to orbit Earth. Still, for 1966, its out of this world.

A very boring electronic album, and I'm starting to get the feeling that's the story for every big beat album. They all just give off the same vibe of not being interesting enough to make it in today's musical economy, not when so many songs have advanced so far past this, and while context when reviewing a piece of music is important, this still fails to interest me any way. There's something to hook you in at the beginning, and the use of actual lyrics at the end helps again, but between that just feels like you're getting the same information over and over until its finally over. It sprinkles good moments throughout, but hardly enough for me to imagine this actually being danceable at any point in time. Racing music at its finest. Nothing more or less.

I very melancholic experience, where every song has this tinge of sadness to it, despite often being mainly very pretty and touching, both lyrically and tonally, but it still feels as though there's this effect that makes one feel a sense of longing, perhaps nostalgic, and I genuinely think its impressive how well the album makes you feel that way. Even the songs I'm not as much of a fan of, such as the country-twange-esque ones, capture this feeling like no other, and it really makes one wonder how Lou Reed was able to catapult into stardom, whilst Cale fadded from the public psyche, because I'm sure, had this album been known better, that this would've been oh so popular in today's world.

An album that not only exudes its love lyrically, but becomes the pinnacle of this feeling of feeling safe in one's arm via the mixture of strings that make you swoon and synths that make you feel as though you are lifting off, all perfectly illustrated by the album cover. Its sensual, its personal, its even got this tinge of sadness in its coldness, but its the type of freezing that makes you excited for the fireside, window view of falling snow with the love of your love. Every part of this makes me feel an emotion that it captures perfectly. Similar to Radiohead's Kid A, Bjork is so ahead of her contemporaries, that this still sounds light years ahead of any music being created now, and is really its own thing. Sure, perhaps it blends at points, but isn't that what you want out of this sort of album? To be infused with it, rather than a bystander, you are feeling the pure and utter love that Bjork has for her partner, and whilst that tinge of sadness only grows stronger with the knowledge that Vulnicura is about the very person this album is about, but in the moment this is bliss incarnate.

I don't know about this one, I feel like I didn't retain anything I listened to for the entirety of this album, even the stuff I liked, and that leaves me with this awkward feeling where it feels like I can't really give the album a fair shake if I hardly have anything to talk about, but I highly doubt another listen or two will change my utter lack of views I had on this album. I liked when it stopped being so lethargic, as it didn't feel ethereal enough to live up to the dream pop style, nor noisy to be a solid shoegaze record. That all being said, I think I enjoyed listening to it? It wasn't boring, and I was generally pretty alright with the music playing. It feels like the perfect record to enjoy in the background of something else, or a nice car ride with another person, but I hardly find this essential. Just a decent time.

I'm genuinely at a loss for words. I mean, I've known for a while now the mysticism of this album, and all the oddities (putting it lightly) that come with it, but I don't think I've ever been so taken aback by an entire album. I've dabbled in the avant-garde, and it hardly ever ends well, but I still went into this with pretty blank expectations for the sake of my sanity. However, this is appalling, yet appealing, like a car crash you can't look away from, even though you really want to. I spent the majority of this album with my head in hands, trying to live through the utter lack of cohesion or basic enjoyability, and at eighty minutes, that's difficult, but my brain seemed determined to find something I liked here:

"Oh, that guitar lick was nice," or, "wow, this drumming is such an odd time signature," but yet I was ready to tap out at nearly every moment. I understand this album is the complete antithesis of all other music, but I just can't listen to this like you would look at an abstract painting, it defies music itself for me, and my brain genuinely does not know how to react to it. It is not enjoyable, it is not catchy, nothing here is music to me.

Yet, I don't hate it. As I said, I hear a lick here, a still solid song here, and it makes me realize that despite defying music itself, it has those charming moments that some albums trying to be the pinnacle of music making fail to have, and I feel that makes this album somehow even better, despite being one of the worst albums I've ever heard. Its too long, many of the tracks are unlistenable, but as an album perhaps one day, I too can join the ranks of those who understand the "art" of this album. For now, it sits somewhere in the middle for me, as it represents the back-and-forth I had whilst listening.

I will note the album is kind of funny at moments, as when I remembered to tune into the lyrics I'd get such wacky, zany shit that I can't help but appreciate it in that aspect.