Reviews by gregorsmith

A joyful and funky delight where world-class guitar work is front and center, hardly surprising given that legendary guests like Jimi Hendrix and Eric Clapton make appearances. Tracks like "Love The One You’re With" and "Church" offer a rich blend of gospel soul and bluesy jams that feel earnest and sincere.

A fixture of the era that serves as a perfect, easy to absorb companion for a long drive.

This feels less like an album and more like being a fly on the wall during a deeply uncomfortable, private therapy session. There is something undeniably fascinating about the raw, petty honesty Marvin Gaye displays here, he manages to set lyrics about attorney fees and alimony to some of the smoothest, most intoxicating soul and funk ever recorded.

Despite my lack of enthusiasm about yet another Byrds or Byrds-adjace album, especially after the boredom Clark's own White Light album brought me earlier in this list, but this is actually a stunning, lush tapestry that blends folk, gospel, and psychedelic rock (always a favourite for me). Tracks like "Silver Raven" and "Strength Of Strings" are absolute standouts, offering a haunting, spiritual experience, but with a unique, baroque depth that is entirely Clark's own.

It is genuinely tragic to learn that this record was a commercial failure that effectively ended Clark's career, as the production is impeccable and the songwriting is top-tier. The album feels like a journey, moving from the bouncy, country-inflected opener "Life's Greatest Fool" into deep, raga-like trances and epic, eight-minute explorations like "Some Misunderstanding." It’s the kind of record that demands your full attention. It’s soulful, melancholy, and incredibly beautiful.

It’s a masterclass in false nostalgia, blending ambient textures with trip hop beats that sound like they were recorded on decaying tape. While many of us find it to be a perfect, immersive experience that captures the bittersweet haze of childhood, it's truly a test for your patience and mood. If you’re looking for a soundtrack for a productive workday or a late night drive, the vintage synths and Sesame Street-esque samples create a vibe that is uniquely otherworldly. However, if you aren't in the right headspace, or perhaps haven't brought the right chemical assistance, it can easily slip into throbbing tedium.

A Night At The Opera is like sitting through a glorious, over the top variety show that refuses to sit still. One moment I’m headbanging to the biting, vengeful energy of "Death On Two Legs", and the next, I’m whisked away into the whimsical music hall charm of "Seaside Rendezvous" or the twinkling space folk of "'39". The production is absolutely meticulous, a dense, layered masterpiece where the studio itself feels like a fifth band member. While "Bohemian Rhapsody" is the undeniable crown jewel that anchors the experience, the album's true strength lies in its fearless genre hopping, from hard rock and prog to ragtime and opera and everything in between.

Listening to Jack Elliott feels like sitting by a campfire with a weathered storyteller who’s more interested in the journey than the destination. As a bridge between the raw dust-bowl era of Woody Guthrie and the early, hungry years of Bob Dylan, Elliott offers a fascinating slice of American folk history. His rambling style is an acquired taste at times, and the yodeling and pre-song "yapping" feel like a charming, intimate performance just for you, if you're into that, I wasn't.

Ultimately, this is a record of simple, stripped-back vibes that prioritises character over technical perfection and lacking any real depth

This is a total trip through the best and worst of that 70s California sound. On one hand, you've got these impeccable vibes and vocal harmonies that are smooth as all hell, making hits like "Take It Easy" and "Peaceful Easy Feeling" feel like the ultimate, polished country rock template. But man, the second you step away from the big singles, the whole thing starts to feel pretty boring... It's remarkably competent but lacks any real soul or grit, and I've found the Eagles are best in a Greatest Hits compilation listen.

I’m left with the distinct impression of a brilliant songwriter navigating a strange, transitional phase before his great Graceland project. The album feels like a polarizing mix of profound beauty and dated 80s production that can easily divide opinion. On one hand, it acts as a hidden gem containing some of Simon's most underrated and sophisticated songwriting, serving as a quiet, soothing prequel to Graceland. On the other, the slick, synthesized sterile sound can make the album feel occasionally flaccid or boring.

Standouts were "The Late Great Johnny Ace" and the surreal "Rene And Georgette Magritte With Their Dog After The War". However, these are sharply contrasted by the opener "Allergies" and the almost universally reviled "Cars Are Cars", which strikes me (and many others) as painfully silly and jarring. Ultimately, I see this as a fascinated but flawed listen, it is a mixed bag that is saved from mediocrity by three or four genuinely perfect songs that justify the price of admission.

I find myself torn between admiring its punchy, mod revival energy and acknowledging its blatant derivativeness. It is impossible to miss the heavy Beatles influence, particularly on "Start!", where the bassline is lifted so directly from "Taxman" that it feels like shameless theft. At its best, it is a tight, catchy collection that showcases Paul Weller’s maturing songwriting and the band's cohesive power, but there are moments where the production feels compressed and the style feels borrowed. Ultimately, it is a fascinating snapshot of a band evolving from punk to something more sophisticated.

I was initially skeptical, perhaps even swayed by the drama surrounding Courtney Love, but Celebrity Skin completely won me over. It’s a polished that trades the unrefined noise of grunge for slick, melodic power-pop without losing the band's emotional potency and the record feels grand and cinematic, delivering undeniable hooks in tracks like "Malibu" and "Northern Star" that have aged beautifully into late 90s classics.

While it’s definitely a glossier and a more radio friendly departure than their previous work, it doesn't feel like a hollow sell-out, rather, it showcases Love's sharp lyricism and commanding vocal presence in a new light. Looking back, I realise I slept on this album for too long, it’s a masterclass in alternative rock that proves Hole was much more than just a grunge footnote, earning its place as a quintessential soundtrack of its era regardless what the likes of Dave Grohl and Kat Bjelland say...

Dookie is a time capsule straight back to 1994, this is the quintessential pop-punk masterpiece, a lightning in a bottle collection of catchy, high-energy bangers like "Basket Case", "Longview", and "Welcome To Paradise" that brought punk into the mainstream right as the punk scene shunned the band for selling out... The tight musicianship, particularly Mike Dirnt’s driving bass and Tre Cool’s frantic drumming, pairs perfectly with Billie Joe’s sneering delivery to create an album that is as infectious today as it was thirty plus years ago.

While I can acknowledge that the lyrics, centered on boredom, anxiety, and teenage apathy, are undeniably juvenile and the sound can feel a bit repetitive to my adult ears, that is precisely its charm. It perfectly captures the spirit of that slacker generation. Even if I have grown out of the whining or the genre itself, the nostalgia hits hard, and I can't help but appreciate the sheer fun and influence of this record. It may be simple, but it’s a classic that still makes me want to scream along to every word.

I find the production undeniably awful, often sounding like it was recorded in a closet, and the lyrics often veer into juvenile, Spinal Tap territory, particularly on tracks like the cringe-inducing "Teacher's Pet". The musicianship is equally sloppy and primitive, yet I can’t help but be charmed by the infectious, punk-infused energy that courses through standout tracks like "Countess Bathory" and the title track.

Still debating if this is a "listen to before you die" album though...

Tago Mago is a mind bending journey that feels like two completely different albums stitched together, and honestly, I’m kinda here for the ride. The first half is pure rhythmic bliss, tracks like "Paperhouse" and the legendary 18 minute "Halleluhwah" lock into these hypnotic, funky grooves that feel incredibly modern for 1971. Jaki Liebezeit’s drumming is the heartbeat of the whole thing, creating a cool Krautrock foundation that makes the psychedelic jamming feel tight and purposeful. It’s the kind of music I can get lost in, grooves that are "ahead of their time" doesn't even begin to cover it.

And as a sort of strange foreshadowing to David Bowie's Berlin era where half the album was great and the other half went deep on Brian Eno's ambient sensibilities, once you hit the second half with "Aumgn" and "Peking O", this album descends into absolute avant-garde chaos. It shifts from a funky jam session into a terrifying, experimental soundscape of screams, tape loops, and dissonant noise that sounds like a bad trip in a haunted castle or the weird interrogation scene from Logan's Run.

Honestly, this album serves as a bit of a Rorschach test for your tolerance of 90s alt rock. It’s got a warm, “fuzzy” atmosphere that sits somewhere between grunge and Americana, think R.E.M. jamming with Jeff Buckley. Grant Lee Phillips has a voice that really carries the record, and tracks like "Jupiter And Teardrop" and "Dixie Drug Store" are genuine standouts that pull you in.

However, I can totally see the complaints about it being a a bit boring. For every moment of atmospheric brilliance, there are stretches where it risks blending into the background as pleasant, but forgettable, noise. It teeters on the edge of being soporific. If you’re in a moody, autumnal headspace, it’s a hidden gem, but if you need high energy or sharp hooks to stay engaged, it might just put you to sleep. A solid, if slightly sleepy, 3 stars.

Not saying this is dull, generic, 80s British dad rock, but I accidentally had my player on repeat and it took me 3 songs to realise it had started back over...

I'll begrudgingly say "Bawitdaba" still has a catchy hook, but that's it. THAT'S IT!

Much like Kanye, if I knew his politics in later life, I would have avoided this like a plague, because it's a plague... Its childish music for any of the stunted man-child out there who never grew up once they turned 14 and like to talk about all the bitches they fuck but never do, because thats the only brag they can think of.

1999 has a lot to answer for.

A rap album released in 1994 thats deemed something you must listen to before you die? Illmatic by Nas (had that a few days ago and it still hits), Ready To Die by Notorious B.I.G. (all time classic), Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik by OutKast (the south got something to say), and this aint it... It aint even at the level of Regulate... G Funk Era by Warren G or Tical by Method Man or Ill Communication by Beastie Boys or even 6 Feet Deep by Gravediggaz and Funkdafied by Da Brat, so what are we even doing here? Really?

Mad 90s hardcore punk vibes with a touch of emo screamo where every song is treated like its own epic that needs to be trashed and screamed into existence, and I'm kinda glad it was. This is loaded with abrasive attitude and sick basslines and after yesterday's laid back Stereo MCs drivel, this was a prefect palette cleanser and energized me for the day ahead.

If you were to distill the year 1992 british music scene into a single sound, it might just be this album. Connected is a quintessential 90s artifact, a mix of hip hop, electronic, and acid jazz that is undeniably groovy, though perhaps a bit trapped in its own era. It is mostly an alright album, it's a polished, feel good record that hits high highs with its singles "Connected" and "Step It Up" but struggles to justify its full runtime with its repetitive beats and loops, and laid back but mediocre rapping from the whitest rapper alive.

It’s probably perfect for a retro dance party, a morning run, or nostalgic background listening, but doesn't offer any depth or variety required for a focused, front to back listening session.

If you are looking for the Holy Grail of hip hop, you have found it. Illmatic is widely regarded not just as a classic, but as the standard by which all other rap albums are measured. It captures the sound of 1990s New York City with a precision that has never been replicated. At the center of the album is Nas, then a 20 year old high school dropout from the Queensbridge projects. Despite his youth, he raps with the weary wisdom of a veteran observer and his rhyme schemes are dense, his flow is effortless, and his storytelling is cinematic. He doesn't just rhyme words; he paints pictures.

The album is remarkably lean at 10 tracks, roughly 40 minutes, with absolutely no filler whatsoever and contains real hot shit in "N.Y. State Of Mind", "The World Is Yours", "Life's A Bitch", and "One Love".

Illmatic is a perfect album. It is short enough to listen to in one sitting but dense enough to reward hundreds of rewinds. It single handedly revived the New York rap scene during the height of West Coast dominance and remains the blueprint for lyricism in hip hop.