Reviews by kuvien

Is this the most technically proficient album ever made? The most beautiful? Is it even that good musically? No, not really. But that doesn’t matter. I love this album for its unique NY charm and sense of detached cool, carried a lot by the awkward vocals. “Perfect Day” is the song that, for most people, rises above the rest of the tracks, but for me, it’s just part of the suite. Reed certainly had a knack for writing a melody, especially when it came to the chorus. If you haven’t yet, babe, take a walk on the wild side.

Idiots in my high school liked this album when it came out. Just listen to Mr. Bungle, which is far more interesting.

What up, niggas and niggettes! LMAO

G-Funk music like this makes me ALMOST like hip hop.

Like almost everything mainstream in the 80s, this is lame, boring, and dated.

There aren't many jazz albums I sing along with--because they're instrumentals!--but this is one. I just find my voice singing whatever. I'm not sure why. It's only with this jazz album. Maybe it's because the music is just so damn smooth and melodic. Maybe it's because I've listened to and loved this album so much. Whatever the case, I drink this music. If music was a slushy alcoholic drink on a hot summer's day, the liquid would be blue, and the bottle from which the concoction came would have this album cover as a label.

even "girls who are boys who like boys to be girls who do boys like they're girls who do girls like they're boys" can't save this massively meh album

Some of the best singles of the 80s herein. As a full album, however, it just misses the mark for permanent inclusion in my rotation.

The Doors aren't bad, but they're certainly overrated. They've got some good singles, but who the hell wants to sit through their full albums?

Just... give me the music and cut out ALL the vocals.

This album is a walk—no, a romp, a wallow—through a moonlit garden at night, except that the garden is on a planet of lush, thick magic, and the moons are red and blue, mingling to purple, making the petals of alien flowers glow.

annoying af

80s af, and that's not a good thing.

An album I listened to a million times at university (back when it came out), and don't really need to listen to any more. Definitely the kind of music one outgrows if one is serious about music appreciation and exploration.

I'm trying to re-imagine a sci-fi / aquatic setting wherein the queen has a thing for her stepson, and when he rejects her, she tells the king his son tried to rape her. The king believes his wife and banishes his son, who soon gets trampled by (sea)horses and dies. If you're sober, you need to bring something of your own to this album to give it claws. Just lie back on the sofa and close your eyes. Listen in complete silence, and it'll be like an underwater journey with lights flashing in the deep.

Just made me wanna go listen to Hank, who has more pathos and more spice than this technically-proficient yet bland music.

George Michael was born under the right alignment of stars, for he looks as good as he sings, and he sings as good as he looks.

Amazing how Cohen can tread a dual path that leads in opposite directions, yet he follows them both simultaneously: one leading to nothing but a scrapbook of women, the other to a place where love calls him by his name. I can't imagine he didn't understand the full meaning of love calling someone by his name. This is dangerous music because if you're alone and have access to alcohol, this could be...unhealthy. The music is so close, so corporeal, and the lyrics are so detailed they're confessional. No one succeeds at failing at love the way Cohen does. And he's got a huge crush on Joan of Arc. But why? Because of her bravery, her conviction, her virginity? No, because her heart is a fiery brand. He longs (lusts) for that fire, but he fears getting burned. Unlike the saint, though, he is not fearless.

git up git up git up n git down

I prefer the poppier sound of "Breakfast in America", but this isn’t bad. This is one of those albums that squeaks by into my collection.

Like Talking Heads, these guys just miss the mark with me.