Reviews by linkyboy

At various times, PJ Harvey’s voice reminded me of Exene Cervenka (of X), Laura Nyro, and Bjork. The duet with Thom Yorke is cool. And while I enjoyed the album fairly well, it hasn’t really stuck with me. A decent entry, but one I’m unlikely to think about in the future.

Stevie Wonder is certainly a master of his craft. The use of synthesizers on this album is inspired. "Superstition" is, of course, one of the greatest songs ever written. The album isn't as even as some of his later records, but damn, is it good.

A solid post-punk record, but also an example of finishing returns. The first few tracks led me to believe I had a potential 4 star album on my hands, but as the album wore on, I grew less and less interested. I listened a second time and had the same reaction. “Requiem” is a killer track though!

It was the kind of album where each song threatens to get annoying, and then consistently makes good on its threat. I kind of liked the "choral" part in "Go to Sleep," but this rare joy failed to repeat itself for the remaining 41 minutes. I like the album cover though.

A decent album sullied by an awful vocalist. And not awful in a way that is actually good. Awful in a way that is uninteresting, which is the worst awful of all.

He was certainly talented, as was his band. I just really need to be blown away by a jazz record to feel anything though. This album is often credited as an example of Monk’s incredible composing skills, and I just have trouble hearing the difference between improvised jazz and composed jazz.

Look, I love Stephen Stills in CSNY where he has C, N, and Y to act as a buffer between his songs—many of which are favorites of mine! I think a double album of just his songwriting is a little too much, especially when none of the songs particularly stand out to me. Was Manassas a skilled band? No doubt. But country rock is already a little outside my interests, and this just doesn't capture my attention the way many records on this list do.

What sets the debut Scissor Sisters album apart is how openly, proudly queer it is. From their suggestive name, to their provocative lyrics, to their hit singles, like "Take Your Mama."

Their music exists in this delicate space between "fun" and "irritating," but overall, I find this album a worthwhile and enjoyable listen. Something different than a lot of this list, and an important representation of a community and culture.

It's hard to think of any artist who was as unfairly maligned by the public as Courtney Love: Hole puts out this incredible punk-rock album, and immediately, the narrative is that Kurt Cobain ghostwrote it. As if no woman could write something like this. And, as she grieves her husband's death by suicide, the rumor spreads that she killed him. The shitty reality is that this was an album dealing with women's issues, and predictably, it was greeted with misogyny.

"Live Through This" is an amazing record. High energy, memorable hooks, well produced. One of the best to come out of the grunge era, and sadly overshadowed by the tragedies surrounding Love’s life.

I like it. I've listened to it a few times through. Noisy, gritty, grimy. Rather than leave you humming ear worms, it feels like worms are humming around in your ear. And that's clearly the point. Punk rock texture music. I don't know that I have an application for this, but I can absolutely see how some people do.

Super cool fusion of jazz with synths. It was over before I was finished with it! Absolutely earns its run time and then some. Awesome album cover too. Listen to that bass on "Birdland"—wild stuff from Jaco Pastorius. I'm not a big jazz guy, but this was so worth the listen!

Solid, but ultimately forgettable grunge. I've listened to it a couple times, and I can't for the life of me remember anything once it's over. I didn't dislike my time with it, but I don't know if this was necessary to include on the list. I'm torn between 2 and 3 stars... I think, after reviewing my 2 star albums, that that's where it belongs.

The introduction to the Thin White Duke. Bowie was such a singular songwriter—such a distinctive voice (as a writer, though as a singer too). I've been listening to Pulp's This Is Hardcore a lot lately, and it's clear that Jarvis Cocker was inspired by this era of Bowie on that record. I only knew "Golden Years," which is a great track, but also so different from the tone of the rest of the album. It wasn't as immediate for me as some Bowie is, but I'll definitely be listening to this some more.

I liked this a lot more than I initially thought I would. It's bizarre and eclectic, catchy and goofy—at times a hip hop album, a radio show, a world music expose. By the last track, it's like someone broke into the Looney Tunes sound booth and went insane. I don’t think the songwriting is all that strong, but I do appreciate this for what it is.

A lot of fun, though rather uneven. Tracks 2 and 3 stood out the most to me. The second half dragged a bit. I appreciate the humor, social commentary, energy, and mishmash of styles!

In eighth grade, I sang in a boy's choir—I'd just been promoted to the "Lower Octave," the choir for boys whose voices had changed, though my voice was still finding its footing in this new register. There was a high school senior in the group. I doubt he thought much about me, but I looked up to him—he was kind, and smart, and an excellent singer... and a massive Radiohead fan. I remember going home after a rehearsal and googling "Radiohead". At the time, all the talk was about their recently released album, "In Rainbows." So strangely, In Rainbows was the first Radiohead album I was aware of, but not the first one I listened to. In fact, I had no way of easily acquiring the album at that time. I couldn't drive myself to the music store, and even if I could, I was rather cautious in my music taste at the time, mostly relying on whatever CDs my parents had lying around. And the only music streaming I had was Pandora, which didn't allow you to select specific songs, but would play random stuff for you in a certain genre. My hands were tied, and Radiohead became my favorite band I'd never listened to.

When I was a few years older, I bought a used copy of OK Computer, and listened to it religiously in my car stereo. From there, I got into The Bends, and Kid A, and Amnesiac, and then, for some reason, stopped. I remember reading an article on Cracked.com about OK Computer and In Rainbows being sneaky companion pieces that you could assemble into a giant double album (dubbed 0110)—a kind of modern "Dark Side of the Rainbows" theory. I found it so cool, and in fact, shared the theory as if it were fact for years. Yet still, I never listened to In Rainbows. Why? I really don't know. And that has, essentially, remained true for all these intervening years. That is, until today.

It's a beautiful album, more accessible than a lot of their previous releases, more restrained too. What has kept me from it? Is it a fear I wouldn't love it? In my mind, it is the dividing line between old Radiohead and new Radiohead, but that's based on nothing, except for my own personal chronology. I've listened to it three times since it popped up on the list. It didn't blow me away the way OK Computer and Kid A did when I first heard them, but who cares? It's excellent, and rewards repeat listens.

I tried setting up the 0110 album in Apple Music, and you know what? I think the theory is kind of bullshit. But what did stand out to me is that the In Rainbows tracks really held their own against the OK Computer tracks—no dip in quality at all. If for no other reason, THAT is what's getting this album 5 stars today.

Funny how music puts us on these trips down memory lane. Even, sometimes, music we haven't heard.

Sometimes, I worry that I'm letting long held biases affect how I listen to albums on here: before starting the project, I wasn't particularly fond of Prince, The Rolling Stones, or Bruce Springsteen, and the albums I've gotten by them have only confirmed that.

But the Kinks prove that I can totally change how I feel about certain artists. I wrote about this for "Arthur..." when I first had my 180 on The Kinks. Since then, I've fallen in love with their particular brand of songwriting, humor, and Britishness. They don't have the polish of The Beatles, but that roughness is great. They don't have the power of The Who, but the mundanity they write about is great. You can hear the underpinnings of punk and Britpop in their music.

The Village Green Preservation Society is a perfect encapsulation of what makes The Kinks wonderful. I've listened to it four times through since I received the album yesterday. "Picture Book" is a new favorite song too. Love it!

Good groves, well done, but not something I felt overly connected to. A little repetitive for my taste, though I appreciate the inclusion of Afro-pop on this list.

In the cafeteria during ninth grade, before I'd discovered my high school friend group, I would sit at a lunch table crammed with greasy, pasty freshman boys. As I'd scarf down my sandwich, and I'd listen to these guys talk about obscene shit, like how hot Sarah Palin was, or the violent videos they'd found online, or Two Girls/One Cup. I hated it, but I was lonely, and these guys at least let me sit there. Many of these guys also loved metal, almost exclusively. And I think that association has always tainted metal for me—when I hear its "edgy" lyrics and its chugga-chugga rhythms, I can't help but picture these dweebs expectorating gobs of wonder bread while they bragged about how many times they could masturbate in one day.

I'll never really be able to look past the goofy spookiness of metal (I mean... look at this album cover...), but I can appreciate Metallica in a way I struggle to appreciate most metal artists. The thing that has always set Metallica apart for me compared to a lot of metal is the sheer skill in their melodic writing. Rather than simple thrashing or anger, there's some real beauty within these tracks, some real knowledge about harmony too.

I remember one of the pasty freshmen (his name was Mikey, and he was my least favorite) smugly proclaiming that "Metallica isn't even metal," which might be why I can stomach them. Huh.

Hey, you know what? Ella Fitzgerald? Very good singer. And the Gershwins? Very good songwriters. What's not to love?

I mean, I suppose you could criticize the run time, but in this particular case, I don't think it's a valid criticism. The length isn't a matter of self-indulgence, but rather, a matter of completeness. Without a doubt, this album is included as a representation of some of the greatest American music ever made, rather than as an album itself, and I'm perfectly fine with that.