Reviews by mitch058

(a) I love the album cover. (b) I think I like the concept of enjoying Herbie Hancock more than I've actually listened to much of his stuff (I *do* own a Herbie Hancock album, but from much later, and ironically a it's a tribute album to Joni Mitchell of all people). (c) I enjoyed this album, and especially the range of styles in it, although as with other instrumental albums it's often hard to keep the music in the foreground of what I'm doing as I listen.

I particularly enjoyed the opening track "Chameleon"--it felt like a kind of kindred spirit to Jeff Beck's "Blow by Blow" album (or perhaps Beck's inspiration), except focusing on keyboards rather than guitar ("Vein Melter" also made me think of the more subdued tracks on "Blow by Blow"). I was also impressed at how he managed to avoid a sort of world-music vibe on "Watermelon man" despite the very obvious African work/rhythm overlay. And "Sly" seems to somehow stay very original while still paying homage to Sly Stone. I can definitely see why this album was included, and it makes me want to hear more of both the Headhunters iteration but also his earlier "Mwandishi" sextet (although I suspect the latter might be too experimental for me, sadly).

I'll admit I'm not much of a Joni Mitchell fan, so this isn't really my cup of tea, but I *do* appreciate it that this album is more interesting and likely more classic Joni Mitchell than "The Hissing Of Summer Lawns" (I can see there's still two more of her albums awaiting in this collection, but I don't know yet how "Court and Spark" compares to those two).

I enjoyed "Free man in Paris" and "Raised on robbery" more than the others, perhaps simply because there was a bit more oomph to the session band's style on those tracks (I didn't realize that Crosby and Nash were backing vocals on "Free man in Paris" until later, but that might have been part of its appeal, and Robbie Robertson's guitar on "Raised on robbery" puts that song well above the rest). And while I wish I enjoyed her music more, I do appreciate how distinctive her voice is; it's hard to imagine confusing her for anyone else. I'm also impressed how many big names she was able to get to appear as studio musicians for her album (and a nod to getting Cheech and Chong on the kind of cringy "Twisted").

This was my first album from this collection, but from before I started listening in a group, and before I started to provide notes to what I was listening to, so I get to listen to it again and perhaps provide the same 4-star rating from way back when. I also appreciate it that I'm now finally able to listen to this album *after* the other two Doors albums in the collection, since that's more in line with the chronological order of the Doors albums in this collection.

The highlights for this album for me are mostly their radio classics: "Love her madly", "L.A. woman", and especially "Riders on the storm". I also kind of like and don't like it that they'd clearly refined their sound down to a very blues-oriented song structure (much like The Rolling Stones did, I suppose). As a result, there's less of Morrison's somewhat irritating poetic noodling on this album ("L'America" probably the only exception), but also too many tracks that are missing Manzarek's iconic keyboard playing, and consequently many of the songs are lost in a middling haze of uninspired bar fare. This is definitely one of the few times I really wish there were half-stars, as this doesn't really deserve four stars overall but the classics also elevate the album well above 3 stars.

After getting his "Stardust" album a few hundred albums back (and not particularly enjoying the experience), it's nice to get what I imagine is a more classic Willie Nelson album, and an interesting concept for a concept album. I particularly enjoyed "Time of the preacher theme" (the 3rd track version), his classic cover of "Blue eyes crying in the rain", and his covers of "Can I sleep in your arms" and "Hands on the wheel", as well as how spare the album is musically, with his backing band at times and lots of Willie Nelson singing and playing. It was so gratifying to read that he was able to produce this album as we hear it because he had complete control, a huge contrast to so many albums in this collection from this time period by other artists.

Having now heard this album as well as "Stardust", I'm sorry that we didn't get some of Willie Nelson's other interesting (and recent) musical adventures. One of the compelling aspects of Willie Nelson's career is how many collaborations he's had with a wide range of artists (I've always enjoyed his and James Taylor's rendition of Townes Van Zandt's "Leftie and Pancho", although I still prefer the original I think) and it's a shame that our only exposure to Willie Nelson is a collection of golden oldies in addition to this definitional album.

Given some of the other questionable bands in this collection, I'm actually happy to see The Monkees make an appearance (and makes me wish the collection also featured Spinal Tap). I haven't watched a lot of their shows, and never had the chance to see them perform live, but it always felt like they were a good group of people with more talent and presence than they ever got credit for.

This album seems like a good sampling of what they had to offer, and while it's not really to my taste it seems well-produced and honestly more interesting than most of the Beach Boys albums we've had in this collection. I also like it that this was the first of their albums to feature their own songwriting and playing (and a shame to read how controversial and challenging this was to accomplish). I'm also impressed that this album stayed nearly neck and neck with "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart Club Band" in the charts for the 1967 summer of love (in the US at least). The standouts for me are "You may just be the one" and the amusing-Kinks-Beatles-mashup "Randy Scouse Git".

Hm. Never heard of them, and from the seemingly offensive band name (apparently a problem that David Berman didn't really address until near the band's breakup, and I'm still not sure it's not offensive to many people) I certainly didn't expect a sort of mellow, country/folk infused album that seems to despair of any bright side of life, especially when I learned that Berman teamed up with a couple of Pavement musicians for much of the band's existence. I'm also guessing that the Pavement connection (which seems to be present in so many recent albums in this collection, even down to Blur's change of pace with their eponymous album) is also the main if not only reason this album is in this collection.

It seems OK as an album I suppose, but I'm not sure what makes this album worthy of inclusion as opposed to other indie albums from this time period. Some of the more atonal-ish-lyrics tracks--like the interesting yet grating "Time will break the world"--remind me of Daniel Johnston (sadly not in this collection). But there are also hints of Bob Mould, Lucinda Williams, Rodney Crowell (not in this collection either), Todd Snider (another missing artist) and others, all of whom seem more interesting than Berman's voice and lyrics. Most of all, though, I kept thinking of Frank Black as I listened to this album, and wishing that was who I was listening to. (Thankfully, we *do* get an album by him, so I hope my wish isn't disappointing when he comes around.) But maybe my skepticism is all for the good, as it sounds like Berman took a dark delight in being dismissed and ignored?

I'm really surprised that I'm more than a third of the way through this collection, and this is the first Mamas and Papas album, and even more shocked to discover that this is the *only* Mamas and Papas album. Nonetheless this seems like a good selection, as it has a few of their radio classics on it (although it *is* missing most of their singles, perhaps not surprisingly).

I didn't grow up listening to them, and have never really found their style and sound all that compelling, so listening to this album didn't really do much for me, and a few of the tracks were a little grating (mainly the cover tunes, e.g. the Beach-Boys-esque take on "Do you wanna dance" or several of the final tracks on the album). But they have a place in the pantheon, I know, and I'm glad to have been exposed to a full album of their sometimes weirdly dark folksy tunes. I'm also struck that my favorite Mamas and Papas tunes are cover versions by later musicians (a bit like Bob Dylan, I suppose).

I've enjoyed listening to TV on the Radio over the years, and own the other album by them in this collection ("Dear Science", 2008), but I don't think I've ever heard anything from this album, which is nice. It's not as entertaining (to me) as "Dear Science", but I suspect this album was included largely because it was their debut. And the debut-ness likely contributes to how different the two albums seem to me--unlike a few debuts that seemed to have emerged fully-formed, this one is rougher and still seems to be searching for a sound and groove. "Don't love you" is an interesting track, although pretty bleak, while "Staring at the sun" and "Dreams" are much more light-hearted tracks, and I can definitely hear in the latter two the band that I've enjoyed on "Dear Science", albeit with a low growl that seems to be their signature on this album. I guess it just took them a while to find a more compelling combination of harmonies and beats and backing music.

A shame that the Wikipedia entries for this album and the band are so sparse, as it would have been nice to have more context for this album; I *did* notice that they cited Brian Eno (who is everywhere) as one of their inspirations, which was fun to see. And I appreciated the "1001 albums" entry noting the connection to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs in the formation of the band (although not a band member but the producer for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs).

I'm not entirely sure how the editors of this project decided that this wasn't in one of the excluded categories of albums, but it certainly *feels* like an album out of place here. An interesting concept in principle, I suppose, but about 4 times too long for my taste. And while I appreciate the is-it-a-cover-if-the-band-is-involved puzzle, it feels too much like a kind of sad (and decidedly heavier) version of Trans Siberian Orchestra, minus the awesome Christmas music, of course. On the other hand, there's a certain poetry to having one of Metallica's four albums in this collection be an extended and loving homage to Deep Purple, who have only three albums in the collection.

This is one of the very few albums that I just couldn't handle listening to without judicious amounts of skipping and fast-forwarding (and WHY was "Fade to Black" not included????). I'm not sure who exactly thought this was a good idea to inflict on anyone but the most die-hard Metallica fans, especially since it just exposes how incredibly *long* and rambling many of their songs were (although the audience chanting back the choruses *is* very impressive, albeit in a sort of Seig Heil way).

I've begrudgingly respected Metallica over the years, and it was kind of fun to get some classics from their early years, but this album in particular has me wondering if my respect was ever deserved. (I'm reminded of my brother complaining that "Alien: Prometheus" was so painful for him that it made him rethink whether the first two "Alien" movies were actually as good as he remembered. No! But maybe "yes" in Metallica's case...)

I've only ever heard "There she goes" by The La's, and that was solely through a compilation album (or so I thought, but it turns out that the 1990 "Happy Daze" album didn't actually include this song, so I'm not entirely sure where I heard them back in the day). Regardless, I was curious to hear the rest of their (only) album. I'm not sure exactly what I expected, but it kind of feels like "There she goes" was done by a completely different band from the rest of an album of seemingly-Beatles-impersonators (with the occasional foray into Doors sounds, e.g. "Freedom song"). Ah well. A fine album, but not all that interesting or distinctive, although I *will* say that it was a pleasant surprise that their sound wasn't yet another Madchester album.

For those of us who aren't die-hard (or particularly knowledgeable) Doors/Morrison fans, it's hard to imagine how any subsequent album could equal or exceed their debut album, so this album has big boots to fill. It's a valiant effort, and certainly starts off in the right direction with the classic "Roadhouse blues", but much like Morrison's increasing alcoholism during this period, the album stumbles quite a bit at times (the next track, "Waiting for the sun", almost sounds like some sort of camp cover of a Doors song). I enjoyed "Peace frog" and it's almost Deep Purple/Blue Oyster Cult sound (although I have to admit that this was probably the first time I'd heard that song, despite the Wikipedia entry claiming it was a classic rock radio staple), as well as aspects of "Land ho!". "Indian summer" felt like some sort of milksop version of "The end", sadly, but I appreciated it that they ended the album with "Maggie M'Gill", a nice bookend to the opening "Roadhouse blues".

It's hard to overly criticize any album that has a tight play time of 37 minutes, but given that the collection has two other Doors albums, both far more interesting than this one, I'm not really sure why this album made the cut for the "1001 Albums" project.

This is the second Arcade Fire album for me from this collection (but chronologically the third in the collection), and definitely an album I've heard of before although I'm not sure I've actually heard anything from it. Watching the video for the opening title track was a strange experience, I'll admit, because as far as I could tell the fairly light-hearted/sentimental lyrics had almost nothing to do with the increasing dystopian video of white suburban kids trying to ignore things as masked militia and law enforcement cordon off streets and kidnap people, ending with a savage beating of one of the kids in a diner. It certainly made the listening experience more interesting, but I'm not sure I understand how much the song and the video actually intersect, nor how intentional the juxtaposition was. (The Wikipedia entry for the album helpfully notes that the video has excerpts from a Spike Jonze short film "Scenes from the Suburbs", which at least provides a little context, but doesn't really resolve much.) The video for "Sprawl II" wasn't nearly as perplexing, but it had an interesting Dawn of the Dead suburban zompbie vibe to it.

Much like my reaction to their earlier "Funeral" album, I wanted to like this album and band more than I do. They're consistent with their sound, and it's not particularly thin-sounding or too lush (most of the time), but something seems to be missing (and their attempt at a kind of retro pop-punk sound for "Month of May" doesn't help). I *do* like how the entire album seems to be centered on a couple of (adopted) Canadians reflecting on their childhood in the suburbs of Texas, for good and bad. And I can definitely see how at least one critic compared this album to Radiohead's "OK Computer", especially since I had a similarly ambivalent reaction to the Radiohead album, and for largely the same puzzled reasons.

Even for Morrissey/Smiths, this isn't much to write home about, even if it was largely a "comeback" album after a long hiatus, and even ignoring what a punk he is and was. But then again, I'm not a fan (can you tell?). I *was* impressed at his economical song stylings, though: it felt like he came up with a lot of clever lyrics and then developed two or three music tracks to sing the lyrics to.

Out of the six Morrissey-related albums in this collection, I'd rate it the same as every single other one: three stars for you, Mr. Whiny Emo Jerk. Unlike your relationship with Jesus, I do not forgive you for taking away a few hours of my life listening to you, but it's just not so atrocious to warrant 2 stars or less. I just don't like you, Morrissey.

Well, I guess this is the first of three Blur albums in this collection (for me at least)--I hope they're as interesting as that number would imply. I'm vaguely familiar with their earlier "Parklife" album, but I don't think I've heard anything from this album before aside from the impossible-to-escape "Song 2" single from yesterday (which I still enjoy, oddly, perhaps because it's just long enough to avoid getting annoying). It seems weird that they opened up the album with a sort of Beatles-inspired sound ("Beetlebum"), and then abandoned this immediately afterward for a kind of all-over-the-map alt-rock sound through much of the rest of the album. I'm hard pressed to call out much of anything else on this album as particularly distinctive or worth another listen and I was disappointed that all of the videos from this album are remarkably uninteresting; the track "On your own" has some potential, as does the weirdly Cure/Gorillaz mashup "Death of a party", and I also enjoyed the David Bowie-inspired "Strange news from another star".

I'm sorry to have gotten this as the first Blur album, as I suspect I would have a different opinion if I'd listened to the (chronologically) earlier albums first. I get this sense largely because the Wikipedia entry suggests that this album marked a big departure for them from their earlier Britpop style; it'll be interesting to see how the other two Blur albums stack up. And I'm quite disappointed in not enjoying this album more than I did, as I *really* enjoy Damon Albarn's Gorillaz experiments, and can't really see any of that here (with the possible exception of "Death of the party").

Sadly, my first reaction to this album was "wait, *another* Bjork album???" I actually enjoy listening to Bjork, in smaller doses I'll admit, so it's kind of disappointing that this collection has created a bit of a Pavlovian reaction to hearing her voice. I'm honestly not sure why we get five Bjork albums (including the Sugarcubes album), but only two Cocteau Twins albums, as they're not all that dissimilar (and frankly one of each would have been enough for this collection). I now realize I've already ranted along the same lines about my Bjork overload with the previous album ("Vespertine" I think), so I should stop now.

Although I still can't really understand her lyrics (and frankly I'm pretty sure several of the songs aren't in English), this album *does* seem to differ from her earlier albums in the collection, mainly with fewer pop-oriented beats and the occasional Metroid-Prime-Trilogy-sounding tracks (like "Where is the line"). I don't know Bjork's music well enough to know if the medieval-sounding tracks like "Vokuro" or the nearly a capella "Oll Birtan" became a new direction for her, but it was an interesting change of pace. I also enjoyed finding out that she worked with an Inuit throat singer on some of the tracks, and also worked with both Robert Wyatt (whose album in this collection was a great disappointment for me once I realized he wasn't John Martyn) and Faith No More/Mr. Bungle's Mike Patton. And while I was a bit disappointed the videos for this album weren't nearly as mesmerizing as previous albums (although "Triumph of a heart" is pretty bizarre), the vocal focus certainly demonstrates what an impressive range she has.

I'm not entirely sure what to make of this album, or the band formerly-known-as-Sub-Sub. It's fine, and at time even interesting, but something about their style seems almost designed to be the soundtrack for some sort of indie film involving long car rides and heavy conversations in coffehouses and large parks at night, perhaps with an occasional supernatural event. Atmospheric perhaps, but not easy to focus on as an album, and I'm mystified that there are *two* Doves albums in this collection, as one seems like more than enough of a sampling (but I haven't listened to the other Doves album, so maybe it's a radical departure?).

In many ways, their backstory is far more interesting (to me) than their album (and nicely documented in the Wikipedia entry for the album): the road from being Sub-Sub to becoming the Doves, including losing all their recorded material (and equipment) in a fire, and all these connections to New Order/Joy Division--especially how their manager, Rob Gretton, took Sub-Sub under his wing and guided them to become a better and more confident band (eventually with a different name) until his untimely death in 1999.

Interesting how much Rod Stewart appears in this project despite only having two solo albums in the collection. Unfortunate for those of us who aren't big fans of his raspy style, and I'll admit I'm not sure if I mind him or not--I kind of think of him as the Tom Cruise or Keanu Reeves of 70s/80s rock, where he seems to have limited talent but never actually gets in the way of an enjoyable experience and more often than not attaches himself to interesting projects. (And I know this isn't entirely fair to Keanu Reeves, as the more I read about him the more I recognize that he seems like a genuinely nice guy; however, I'm not sure anyone would describe him as an extraordinary thespian.)

That said, this album seems very middle of the road, which is kind of disappointing, especially given the clearly talented lineup in Faces, but not entirely surprising either. (But soo much easier to listen to than the Small Faces album in this collection.) It's fine for a half-hour or so of 70s rock, but doesn't really seem all that distinctive, although "Stay with me" is rightfully a classic, and "That's all you need" has a nice vibe to it. It's also nice to have more than just Stewart on lead vocals, and something about Ronnie Lane's vocals on his songs ("You're so rude", "Last orders please" and the highlight "Debris") had almost a Dylanesque aspect to it. Also very funny that the poster that came with original album distribution was so scandalous that the select few fans who got the poster before it was recalled had overnight collector's items.

I've never heard of Jurassic 5, and I'm pretty sure I haven't heard any of the tracks from this album either; always a nice prospect (even if the promise doesn't always play out). I appreciate how they took a different approach to hip-hop than a lot of what we've gotten in this collection, with a lot of samples and bass and tight (and often incisive) lyrics; at times I'm mildly reminded of a more modern, beat-oriented De La Soul, or maybe even more so like the 2000s era iteration of the Jungle Brothers. I particularly enjoyed "Break", "A day at the races", "What's golden" (fun video too), "The sum of us", and "I am somebody", with an honorable mention to the Nelly-Furtado-assisted "Thin line". I also enjoyed the album overall, far more than I'd expected to from the opening few tracks.

Kind of a bummer that the Wikipedia entry reads like it was written by ChatGPT 0.5--not simply uninformative but poorly structured and a limited vocabulary (and sadly, the Wikipedia entry for the group is about the same). The "1001 albums" entry is substantially better--and more informative--but still leaves out a lot of background and/or context. Too bad, as Jurassic 5 clearly had a lot to say in their relatively short-lived tenure.

Our second Isaac Hayes album! And a classic, of course, although perhaps not nearly as interesting as "Hot Buttered Soul". I'm embarrassed to admit that I've never watched all of "Shaft", although I've heard some of the more popular songs on this album (well, make that the two radio-length songs), and been intrigued by Gordon Parks' foray into directing films during his long career in photography and activism.

It seems perfectly fine as a soundtrack, but not all that exciting as an album, and kind of a bummer that most of the tracks are (understandably) instrumentals. As I listened to it I was reminded of listening to the Lohn Lurie soundtrack for "Get Shorty", and how I'd enjoyed that album but not as much as I'd hoped to (except of course in that case I'd seen the movie so the various themes were at least a little more obvious). Given that I also didn't overly enjoy the Barry Adamson fake soundtrack "Moss Side Story", I guess I'm just not a big soundtrack fan. A shame that this is Isaac Hayes most popular and commercially successful album, as it doesn't seem like the kind of showcase he deserved.

Although I enjoy various forms of electronica, and this album is an occasionally interesting/enjoyable flavor, I'll admit that as a genre it's harder to succeed in the context of the "1001 Albums" project, largely because the albums tend to be much longer than in other genres, and there's a *lot* of iterative and repetitive music with each track. Some groups/artists in this collection have such a distinctive sound that their albums are easy to rate and compare to other albums in the collection -- Moby, Chemical Brothers, Air, Fatboy Slim, Bjork, to name a few. But this album (and I suspect Underworld in general) isn't one of those, and seems mired in a sort of rave/dancehall morass of beats and sampled/synth effects (and some very dated feeling drum-n-bass), which is great as background music in some situations, but kind of annoying as part of this collection. (When I read the Wikipedia entry for the album, I laughed at the apparently unironic statement in the "Mojo" appraisal of the album: "never has the introduction of a hi-hat seemed quite so exciting." Indeed.) The only tracks that stood out for me were "Confusion the waitress" and "Stagger", both reminiscent of Moby, but definitely more foregrounded than most of the album and with a story of sorts to tell.

Both the Wikipedia and "1001 albums" entries for this album seem to suggest that this is a very cerebral and sophisticated form of experimental electronica. I remain unconvinced, I'll admit, and I'm sorry we didn't get their breakout "Trainspotting" (movie) single on this album ("Born slippy"), as that would have likely boosted their rating (for me); "Pearl's Girl" comes close, but sounds more derivative than complementary. But thankfully this is the only Underworld album in the collection, so that helps with a small rating boost of appreciation.