Reviews by gregorsmith

I get the spot this holds in the Seattle rock scene, it’s got that messy garage punk vibe and plenty of fuzzy riffs. Parts of it are fun and definitely nail that DIY '90s aesthetic, but overall, most of the songs just kind of blend together for me. It ends up feeling more like background noise than a standout record.

Compared to earlier stuff like Superfuzz Bigmuff, this just doesn't have the same bite. It’s cool to hear the raw, dirty sound that helped build that scene, but it lacks the real energy. It’s decent enough, but compared to the heavy hitters of that era it just feels a bit flat and forgettable.

I know some people might think this is just background music, but for me, Endtroducing is the absolute GOAT of sampling. DJ Shadow didn't just throw some loops together; he used an old Akai MPC60 to piece together tiny bits of vinyl into this moody, cinematic masterpiece. It’s got that perfect trip-hop vibe, totally nostalgic but still feels fresh every time. The level of craft here is insane, it’s basically just a bunch of borrowed sounds turned into a whole new world.

Tracks like "Midnight In A Perfect World" and the drums on "Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt" make me feel like I'm wandering through some dusty, forgotten record store at 3 AM. It’s hypnotic, super chill, and honestly the gold standard for sample-based stuff. Even after all these years, it’s still the best thing to put on when I really just want to zone out and get lost in the music.

This mostly just feels like a Nick Drake wannabe who’s missing the precision of Tom Waits. Don't get me wrong, the atmosphere is solid, that smoky, late-night mix of folk, jazz, and blues is sometimes my thing. The instrumentation is great, especially the guitar, the double bass, and the sax, which create a really cool, hypnotic vibe. The title track, in particular, is perfect for a late night listen.

But man, the moment he starts singing, the whole thing falls apart for me. Instead of someone haunting like Drake or a storyteller like Waits, it just sounds like he’s slurring and mumbling through the whole record. Half the time I couldn't even tell what he was saying, and it just drags down some otherwise really pretty arrangements.

Somehow we get two Common albums in this list? This one is as enjoyable as his acting in Silo... totally painful. Sure, the jazzy production from guys like Dilla and Questlove is technically great, but it can’t save the record. It feels super bloated and drags on for almost 80 minutes of filler that’s a total chore to get through. Common’s "conscious" vibe just comes off as preachy, and his flow really lacks the energy to keep things interesting.

To make it worse, the supposedly soulful message is undercut by some pretty gross homophobia and misogyny in the lyrics that hasn’t aged well at all. Even with the nice beats, the whole thing is a tedious, problematic slog that I was dying to finish. Definitely not a classic to me.

I get why The Fat Of The Land is a 90s dance music legend, it really nails that wild, aggressive rave vibe. The huge tracks like "Breathe", "Firestarter", and (to a lesser extent) "Smack My Bitch Up" are absolute bangers that brought that raw, industrial energy straight into the mainstream.

But honestly, listening to the whole thing in one sitting is a lot. The relentless energy gets old pretty fast. Once you move past the singles, it all just starts to sound the same. The heavy bass and shouted vocals eventually turn into a wall of noise that’s more exhausting than fun. It’s a cool time capsule for sure, but for me, it just doesn't hold up as a full album listen.

I really wanted to like the mix of post-punk and new wave on Infected, but honestly, I found it a total slog. I get that Matt Johnson put a ton of effort into the theatrical production and all those layers of synths and brass, but the whole thing just grated on me. It feels like it's trying way too hard to be deep, and the result is just a dated, over-produced wall of 80s noise that couldn't keep me interested.

Seems like all you need to make this list is a loud guitar and a cool frontwoman... what’s next, Echobelly with Sonya Aurora Madan? Don’t get me wrong, this punchy 38 minute hit of ’90s post punk is a blast. Justine Frischmann has that it factor, and tracks like "Connection" and "Waking Up" are catchy, and full of raw energy. It’s that perfect mix of edgy alt-rock and pop that makes for a fun, quick nostalgia trip.

The big problem for me, though, is how derivative it is. It’s hard to call this an "all-time great" when it’s so clearly recycling riffs from Wire, the Buzzcocks, and The Stranglers. The bass is crunchy and the attitude is solid, but it feels a bit creatively bankrupt.

I’m honestly torn on Live / Dead. I went in knowing it’s a 1969 time capsule of the band at their peak, but the actual listening experience is all over the place. When I can just turn my brain off and sink into the trippy, improvised jams like the "Dark Star" into "St. Stephen" suite, it feels totally hypnotic and adventurous. But the second I lose that vibe, it just feels like an endless, aimless slog where it sounds like five guys are stubbornly playing five different songs at once.

My patience was definitely pushed by how long these tracks go on, especially that brutal seven minutes of pure feedback at the end.

To be honest, my first impression of this album is that it just delivers generic David Bowie cover band sounds. It’s impossible to ignore how heavily they lean into that glam aesthetic, to the point where it often feels like listening to Temu David Bowie or some unholy, nasally union of Bowie and Bob Dylan. The vocals and the over the top, campy theatricality make the whole thing feel incredibly derivative, like a group of guys who saw Ziggy Stardust and swung a little too hard for the fences trying to capture that exact same lightning in a bottle.

This record captures a time when the Manics were truly manic, emerging from the smoke of Glastonbury wearing balaclavas, ready to rip into "Faster" and fuck you up. Listening to it today remains a visceral, almost terrifying experience. I’m consistently struck by its relentless dive into the darkest corners of humanity, confronting anorexia, political hypocrisy, and historical atrocities with unapologetic brutality. It stands as an unflinching mirror to Richey Edwards' fracturing psyche (in hindsight we should have been really worried about Richey...) feeling less like a traditional Alt-Indie/Britpop album and more like a searing, post-punk manifesto born from pure, unadulterated anger and despair.

The lore behind this album makes it even greater than it already is. Knowing that Kevin Shields' obsessive perfectionism and 19 different studios nearly bankrupted Creation Records just adds to the mythos of what he achieved here. On the surface, sure, it sounds like endless reverb, but it's got endless layers to it (hehe, overdubs joke). The first time it hits your ears, it’s an abrasive, chaotic wall of distorted, seasick guitars that threatens to completely overwhelm you. Yet, if you let it wash over you, ideally played at a tooth rattling volume, that deafening noise transforms into the warmest, most comforting, dreamy cocoon.

The real magic of Loveless is the tension between that sonic onslaught and the beautiful pop structures buried beneath it. With the hazy, ethereal vocals pushed way back into the mix like just another instrument, tracks like "When You Sleep" and "Only Shallow" reveal themselves to be surprisingly catchy once you acclimate to the fuzz. It’s an album that demands patience and might leave some feeling totally numb or alienated, but once it finally clicks, it's a transcendent experience. It doesn't just define the shoegaze genre, it completely rewrote the rules of what a guitar could do.

Electric medieval? What? That was exactly my first thought when I hit play, expecting either dry, dusty traditional acoustics or generic 60s rock. Instead, I found myself fully immersed in what I can only describe as a 1960s Renaissance Faire turned up to eleven, proto-bardcore as it's been called. I usually don't have much time for the "hey nonny nonny" folk stuff, but Sandy Denny’s vocals are otherworldly, beautiful, haunting, and completely commanding (it suddenly makes perfect sense why Led Zeppelin recruited her for "The Battle Of Evermore"). Paired with Richard Thompson's electrifying guitar work and a surprisingly punchy rhythm section, sprawling epics like "Matty Groves" and "Tam Lin" don't just amble along; they absolutely rock. It's an bewitching blend of the ancient and the modern that easily earns its reputation as the definitive British folk rock masterpiece.

This was not the kind of music I needed on a long road trip. When you're trying to stay alert on the highway, plunging into a 17 minute title track of bubbling Moog synthesizers, eerie wind sounds, and detached atmospheric noise is a recipe for either deep anxiety or intense boredom. Without any traditional melodies, driving percussion, or lyrics to sing along to, it felt like my life had turned into a stuck loading screen for an alien sci-fi movie. If I had been sitting alone in a pitch-black room with a great pair of headphones, or maybe just zoning out, this hypnotic journey would likely be the perfect ethereal brain massage but the driver's seat simply isn't that place.

I enjoyed Fela Kuti's albums on this list, and that was a huge mantle to take over, but Femi manages it with aplomb. While the undeniable DNA of Fela’s pioneering Afrobeat is still the beating heart of this record, Femi manages to carve out his own distinct, highly accessible space by blending in vibrant, funky jazz vibes. The saxophone solos are fire, and those basslines are so tight they hook you from the first second. It’s such an uplifting listen that manages to be a total dance party while still hitting hard with the political lyrics. Between tracks like "Wonder Wonder" and "Plenty Nonsense," it’s clear Femi isn’t just living off his family name, he’s a proving he's an artist in his own right.

Axis: Bold As Love is just an incredibly colorful, fully realised psychedelic trip. It feels like such a huge step up in songwriting and studio experimentation from his debut. Some people might say it gets overshadowed by his other big records or that the jams get a bit self-indulgent, but I honestly think this is his most melodic and balanced album.

The versatility here is just mind-blowing. It swings effortlessly from the heavy, proto-metal riffs of "Spanish Castle Magic" and the funky chaos of "If 6 Was 9" right into the beautiful, soulful vibes of "Little Wing" and "Castles Made of Sand". Sure, some might see the weird "EXP" intro or Noel Redding’s vocal track as a bit of filler, but that barely touches the overall magic. It’s a perfect 40-minute masterclass that shows Hendrix wasn't just a guitar god, but a straight-up visionary artist.

It's hard to deny what a classic this is when 10 out of 11 songs appear on a 2 disc The Very Best of Simon & Garfunkel album I got 25 years ago ("Why Don't You Write Me" is the only omission FYI). Listening now, I’m still blown away by the ambition and emotion here. From the soaring vocals and strings on the title track, which still gives me goosebumps, to the huge build-up in "The Boxer", Paul Simon is at the top of his game. It’s such a cool mix of styles, too, moving from the Andean vibes of "El Condor Pasa" to the energy of "Cecilia".

Are there a couple of clunky moments? Sure. The live version of "Bye Bye Love" feels a bit out of place with all the crowd noise, and some of the slower stuff can be a little sleepy. But you also get hit with the perfection of "The Only Living Boy In New York" and those gripes just vanish. You can practically feel the tension of their impending breakup in the production, but it somehow makes the whole thing feel like a cathartic, triumphant send-off. Flaws and all, this is a masterpiece.

Five stars, no question. Anything else would be slander, libel, words you never heard in the bible...

Jagged Little Pill is such a classic 90s breakup record, it’s angry, spiteful, petty, and totally raw. Putting it on takes me straight back to driving around in the mid 90s with the radio cranked all the way up. Even though the alt-rock sound and drum loops feel pretty dated now, the emotion still hits just as hard. Songs like "You Oughta Know" are the perfect scream-along therapy, which balances out nicely with the softer stuff like "Head Over Feet". Yeah, some of the lyrics are a bit dramatic, and I’ve learned to just ignore that almost nothing in "Ironic" is actually ironic, but the songwriting is still top tier.

I get that Alanis’s vocal style, all that yodeling and aggressive phrasing, can be a bit annoying sometimes, and the production is definitely heavy handed in spots, making a few of the deeper tracks feel like filler. But honestly? Despite all the 90s cheese, I still think this album is a huge deal. It’s a messy, passionate, and catchy time capsule of when venting your ugliest feelings over a pop rock beat was the absolute best way to let it all out.

I came in ready to dismiss this record, because U2 were very experimental in the 90s and this "return to rock" felt very bleah. While it's no How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb levels of dad rock, there are a few undeniably good songs front loaded in here like the inescapable "Beautiful Day", "Elevation", "Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of", and the now-questionable "Walk On" (written about then-longtime Burmese political prisoner turned Rohingya genocide denier Aung San Suu Kyi). It's not as seismic as The Joshua Tree, it's not a massive pivot like Achtung Baby, and it's not even half-finished like Pop, it's just U2 becoming decidedly MOR and playing it safe for the new millennium.

It’s the sound of a legacy band prioritizing commercial survival over artistic risk, crafting stadium pleasing background music that offends absolutely no one. It’s certainly not a terrible listen, and those initial hits still hold a lot of nostalgic weight, but the overall experience ultimately lacks the raw fire and passion that made U2 great in the first place.

I genuinely believe this is the saddest album of all time. Written in the wake of J. Spaceman's breakup with keyboardist Kate Radley, and permeated by a quiet but undeniable hatred for Richard Ashcroft, it's a masterclass in emotional devastation. The fact that Radley was still right there in the studio recording these tracks alongside him adds a layer of agonising, real-time tension that even Fleetwood Mac would never even dare attempt. It is an immense, sprawling monument to heartbreak, drug induced numbness, and profound spiritual malaise, translating a deeply personal, messy tragedy into something universally breathtaking.

My advice: turn off the lights, put on some headphones, and just let it wash over you. It’s a wild mix of space rock, gospel choirs, and noisy, orchestral layers. It’s definitely a lot to take in, but that’s the whole point. It perfectly captures that feeling of trying to deal with a broken heart when you’re not really in your right mind.

Floodland is supposedly the gold standard for 80s gothic rock. It’s got this massive, cinematic energy that hits hard with those dark, pulsing basslines and the drum machine backing everything up. When you get to tracks like "This Corrosion" and "Lucretia My Reflection", it’s pure, brooding theater in the best way possible.

That said, the album really starts to lose its grip after a while. The production gets super repetitive, and once you realise every song is kind of following the same blueprint, the second half starts to feel like a bit of a slog. It’s a vibe for a few tracks, but eventually, the self serious atmosphere just starts to feel a little monotonous. Urgh.