Reviews by linkyboy

I know this album is beloved, considered a landmark release for women in rock, but after my first listen, I wasn't really sure what was so special. This happens for me sometimes, and I often feel compelled to try again. I did this for The Kinks' "Arthur..." and ultimately found myself loving it on the second listen. With Dusty in Memphis, my second listen only yielded similar results. It's nice, but I don't think I hear what others hear. I feel like I'm still missing important context to appreciate it in, but 1969 doesn't seem THAT early to me.

This sounds like it sounds good—the beats are fun and catchy, MC Solaar's lyrics seem fun and inventive, but I feel like I can't properly judge it without speaking the language. With rap, so much of the craft is in the lyric writing (which I can overlook for a lot of other genres), so I just don't know how to judge this without knowing a lick of French. But again, it seems good. I'm going to give it a neutral rating of 3 stars, not because of anything it did wrong, but because of my own inability to make a clear judgement on it.

This is an all time favorite album for me. I could say so much about why I love this album, from its rollicking bass, jangly guitars, sardonic lyrics, Morrisey’s enigmatic voice, how many of the songs I listen to on a regular basis. But instead, I’ll close with this:

“It's so easy to laugh, it's so easy to hate // It takes strength to be gentle and kind.”

How can the man who wrote that beautiful lyric go on to say such hateful things?

It sounds like he’s trying to be Prince. And I liked this better than Prince! But I don’t like Prince.

My evil stepmother loved Lenny Kravitz, and I’m trying not to hold that against him.

I just don’t get Joy Division. New Order is leagues better, and you can see where they were headed, but something doesn’t click into place for me with Joy Division. Even the opening track, which is pretty good, has this weird shit going on in the bass that simply doesn’t work. Ian Curtis’s vocals are strange and pitchy. So often, it sounds like they didn’t WRITE the song, they just kind of DID the song. I don’t know. I’ve tried.

Great album cover though.

I don’t mind classic country—in fact, I sometimes like it. The title track and “If You Want to Be My Woman” were genuinely enjoyable listens. My problem more lies with the lack of variety on this record. It’s short, but it feels even shorter, as each song is built in the same way: same instrumentation, same tone, same beat. Many of the songs dealt with similar, cliche country themes which get me rolling my eyes (perhaps unfairly, given the year this was written). The times the record deviated from these norms stood out to me, but they were few and far between. I certainly don’t regret listening, but I just don’t think this album will stay in my memory for very long.

“Electronica” as a genre doesn’t come close to describing what this record really is. Such a fascinating mashup of styles, instruments, music cultures. Sometimes danceable, sometimes atonal, sometimes both at once. Bizarre and beautiful and fun.

It’s albums like these that make me aware of how many people on this site clearly didn’t want to hear anything other than what they already liked. If you open your mind to it, there’s a lot to like on this record.

I know two things: Marvin Gaye fucks, and so does this album.

It seems like Nick Cave was definitely going for something specific: moody, broody. It accompanied my visit to the museum nicely, but also felt rather one-note. I liked “Into My Arms” a lot, but nothing else quite captured me the same way. A solid entry, but nothing remarkable.

For a long time, The Kinks have flummoxed me. They’re often heralded as one of the big 4 British Invasion bands, alongside The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, and The Who. But they never seemed to fit in that lineup neatly, always seemed a bit too ragtag or dated compared to the others. As I listened to this album through the first time, I didn’t really get it, and was trying to understand WHY they’re considered so great.

Once I got to the end, I didn’t feel like I’d given it the proper attention to rate properly, though I was pretty sure I’d give it a 2 or 3. I started from the top, preparing myself to really listen, and as “Victoria” crescendoed to its climactic chorus, I got it. I suddenly saw the appeal. It was actually great, there was actually something there! I listened to the album through again, and enjoyed it so much more than the first time.

I’m not sure what changed, or even how to articulate what is good, but it IS good, and that’s enough.

I liked this, fun, upbeat, made me want to dance. It feels formulaic and cliche, but maybe because it created the cliches? I really don’t know. I’m disappointed by the lack of information on this album’s impact. I found, essentially, a character study from the Library of Congress, but it says little about this album itself. I read the AllMusic review, but it essentially synthesizes some facts about the album, without saying much about its greatness or importance. I generally try to work impact into my ratings, especially for genres I’m less familiar with (like Latin jazz).

Given this lack of context, I’ll base it off of my listening experience: it’s good, sounds pretty high fidelity for its time, it was enjoyable, but not mind blowing. I wish I felt stronger opinions, but I just don’t.

If the whole album was at the level of “The Cisco Kid,” this would have been an easy 5-star album for me. At its best, this album is groovy, catchy, gritty, and political. Alas, most of the album after that first track lacks the groove and pace, leaving me yearning for that first song.

Damn, Michael Jackson really was an incredible artist. This album is chock full of ear worms, incredible performances, and memorable beats. Even the “worst” songs have jaw dropping musical choices in them.

Bad is good. Really really good.

The album cover is a good microcosm of the whole album. Tough man punching his reflection, shattering the mirror, blood dripping from his wrist. But it’s a staged photo, mirror pre-broken, blood a mix of ink and coffee.

Similarly, this album presents of veneer of macho destructiveness and rage, but it’s just a bunch of kids play-acting. This is kind of my problem with hardcore music in general. I just can’t get past the goofiness of it.

I liked “TV Party” the best, because it had a sense of humor the way much of the album did not. But I walked away grateful 35-minutes had finally elapsed, and with sympathy pains in my larynx.

As I listened to this long album, so awash in gloom and reverb, I was plagued with one question:

Why is this album great?

I didn’t mean it like, “This album is great! How’s they manage it?” What I meant was that everyone thinks this is one of the greatest albums ever made, and I couldn’t really see why.

Like, it was fine. It kind of sounded cool, and there were moments that really captured a feeling, and layers I’d notice tucked under a blanket of sound. But I couldn’t stop thinking that it was overindulgent, vacuous, and too 80s for 1989. I was preparing to give this a 3.

And then, somehow, as I listened to the last three songs (each of which was too long, on paper anyway), something changed within me. The album won me over. I got it. I wanted to listen again. I had to meet it at its level, not expect it to be something it wasn’t. Suddenly, I asked the same question as before, but with the originally false meaning:

Why is this album great?

“The fire you like so much in me
Is the mark of someone adamantly free
But you can't stop yourself from wanting worse
'Cause nothing feeds a hunger like a thirst.“
– from “Strange Loop”

Before Jagged Little Pill, there was Exile in Guyville. Liz Phair manages to be cool, sexy, and alternative throughout this album, all while managing to put out a record that sounds as fresh in 2026 as it did in 1993. Though not every song lands, there’s a lot of good material in this album, and some parts that are excellent.

Now THIS is how you do a double album! Actually, this felt more like a quadruple album, given the variety of each side.

I’ll admit that as I listened to Side A, I wasn’t particularly moved. In fact, I was worried I was in for 90 minutes of easy-listening 70s pop, and I wasn’t sure I was interested in that. But then Side B started with “Intro,” which might be my controversial pick for the greatest track on the record. See, it was at “Intro” that I realized I wasn’t just listening to a generic rock album—I was in for an experience. Todd Rundgren was doing something here, and drawing my attention to the mistakes that were bound to occur on the record made me pay more attention, made me understand what the album was all about. It’s easy to overlook how notable it is that Todd Rundgren did everything for the first 75% of the album, given modern music technology. But “Intro” forced me to become aware, without being pretentious.

And from there, I discovered an album full of treats for the ears and for the brain, lyrics that were at times funny, at times heartfelt. And Side D, played with a collection of session musicians rounded up the day before was exciting in its clear spontaneity.

I don’t recall the last time an album won me over quite this much. A well-deserved 5 stars!

Here’s where I stand with the National: they’re a decent band with an excellent drummer. Seriously, listen to how the drums drive every single song! Without them, or with something more subdued, this album would be an absolute snooze fest. I like their sound — it sets a mood, feels like an overcast day — but I’m never quite able to love them.

This album occupies an interesting space in pop discourse: is it a masterpiece, or one of the most overrated records of all time? In reality, it’s probably a bit of both (or maybe a bit of neither?). I like it a lot. I’d only heard “Champagne Supernova” and, of course, “Wonderwall” before, and as a huge fan of Pulp, I wasn’t willing to have Oasis take the number one place in my Britpop Hall of Fame—but the album exceeded my expectations, despite (or because of?) its imperfections. So where does that place it in the overrated-to-masterpiece spectrum? I think the answer is this: it’s a spectrum that doesn’t work, a false dichotomy. The album can be both.

I vacillated between giving it a 4 or 5, but when I think of the other albums I’ve given 5 to, this one just doesn’t hold up in the same way.

This album was probably great for early heavy metal fans. It probably was awesome while high. It probably was great live. But to my 2026 ears, it sounds dated, meandering, and forgettable. Also, this has to be one of the dumbest album covers I’ve ever seen. And the hard panning at the end was nauseating.