Reviews by mondo-kun

Alternative country... The question immediately arises: "Alternative to what?" Well, probably to traditional country. "And what is the alternative?" It's a bit more complicated.

It's well known that the main themes of classic country are homeland, love, family, work. Alternative country is about the same thing, but with a touch of negativity, depression... Emo-country, basically.

This album could be called just that: emo-country. Songs in which Gillian Welch expresses her feelings in a slightly dark manner — love, longing for the past, admiration for Elvis. Nothing superfluous, just her pleasant voice and acoustic guitar — these are more like poems than songs.

Boring? Perhaps, the fifteen-minute last song alone is worth it. Will I listen to this album again? Probably not. Did I like it? Yes, I did. If your soul is yearning for something calm and acoustic, give it a chance.

When I saw I was supposed to listen to this album today, I automatically thought, "Well, here's another Bowie album, added to the list simply because of the author's name; we've been there, we know."

When an artist releases an album forty years after their peak, you don't expect much from them: they're supposed to be doing something to keep from becoming completely ossified. Well, that one is a completely different story! It features the glam that made Bowie famous, funk rock, and even slightly heavier alternative, all elegantly crafted, perfectly in keeping with the artist's style, his signature feel. Add to that the fact that this was Bowie's first album in ten years; I can imagine the shock of those who also thought it was just another record from the veteran, and the impression it had on the younger generation, who had barely heard of him before.

A great comeback and a simply great album that still sounds very fresh. Pleasantly surprised!

I have a positive attitude toward the Wu-Tang Clan and all its members and understand their contribution to the genre, but I'll admit without hesitation that I don't like most of hip-hop for a very simple reason.

What's the most important thing in hip-hop? Lyrics, of course. For me, lyrics have always been secondary, and here, as not a native speaker, even knowing the language, it's really hard for me to evaluate the author's intent — I still don't understand a bunch of references, even though the lyrics were right there on my phone screen while I was listening. On the other hand, music as such is minimal in hip-hop: it's just background music, a sample taken and then looped throughout the song. If you don't focus on the lyrics, it gets boring very quickly.

So, for hip-hop, I have one criterion: rocking / not rocking (there are exceptions, of course). Does this album rock? Well, it rocks, but it definitely won't rock for fifty minutes.

In the movie High Fidelity the main character puts on a (different) The Beta Band album in a record store and says, "I'm going to sell five copies." It's immediately obvious that the film is fictional — I doubt anyone in real life would buy the album after seeing something like that.

Similar artists include Beck and The Flaming Lips; they're right on target: it's lo-fi electronica with occasional guitars, a bit monotonous in some ways. I don't know how else to describe this music, but I can say that after this album's release, the band was booked as opener for Radiohead tour, which might give some insight.

A very uneven record. Sometimes it sounds pleasant, sometimes it's so dull that you want to turn it off. At first, I wanted to give it three stars, but then I remembered the book's title and thought, "Did I really need to listen to this album before I die? Naah..."

Unpopular opinion: this album may have been innovative when it was released, but it hasn't held up very well.

Yes, perhaps thirty-five years ago the mix of reggae, hip-hop, and soul sounded novel; overall, it still sounds good, but, firstly, many bands have emerged who are making this kind of music just as good, and in some places even better, and secondly, sometimes the songs drag on unnecessarily. The album's cohesion also suffers, and Del Naja has never hidden the fact that they simply recorded demos in the studio and then simply brought in guest vocalists. Ultimately, the music becomes mere background music.

It's a cult classic, but I don't find it appealing. Additional star for the rich bass lines, but overall it was a bit boring to listen to.

David Bowie died on January 10th, two days after the release of Blackstar. And I believe the fact that it's his swan song is the only reason it's even on this list.

I can just imagine the editors thinking, "We've added eight Bowie albums to the book, so how can we not include the last one?" There's nothing wrong with that, but it's important to keep this in mind — personally, I found almost nothing I liked about Bowie here. The album is too experimental, even for him; the saxophone wafts through almost every song, and if you add some distortion to some of the tracks, you'd almost sound like Lightning Bolt.

But what really gets you through the album is that you can hear Bowie's weight in his vocals, how he knows he doesn't have much time left in this world. I didn't really experience anything special while listening, but I can't give it a lower rating.

While listening to this album, the question "Where do I know that voice from?" kept running through my head. I Googled the artist's name — and lo and behold, it's Chef from South Park!

However, Chef would be thirty years away, but for now, let's consider the fact that this forty-five-minute record consists of only four songs. At that length, it might seem like prog rock, but no, it's soul, albeit a rather unusual one. Moreover, two songs on this album (that's half of it) are covers, which Hayes managed to stretch out two or three times longer, yet they never get boring or lose their appeal: this is beautiful, somewhat pompous music, perfect for a candlelit dinner.

The record is almost sixty years old, but it doesn't feel that old at all; it's hard to believe it was recorded that long ago. I think that's one of the hallmarks of quality.

"All the instruments played on this album are acoustic" — that's the proudly stated phrase on the album cover.

There's certainly something to brag about: in addition to the standard folk acoustic guitar and tambourine, there's also double bass, banjo, orchestral bells, bongos, and even an Indian sitar. Unusual instruments create unusual music, and in addition to the genre's classic motifs, collectively known as "medieval tavern," there's also something reminiscent of a mass, and a sense of improvisation, where each instrument seems to be playing its own part, yet the result is beautiful.

An interesting album, somewhat ahead of its time.

Personally, I feel a sense of calm when listening to this record, primarily due to the combination of Ray Manzarek's psychedelic organ and Jim Morrison's hypnotic vocals. However, it was only after learning a few details about it that I discovered its true greatness.

For example, the band never had a studio bassist; Manzarek played the bass part as a second line — a masterful feat. Furthermore, the album was recorded in just a few days, with most of the songs recorded in one take. And most importantly, the engineer's wisdom — he barely touched the final recording — made it sound as if the band were performing live. This is the main strength of this music, and I hadn't yet fully grasped the apparently metaphor-filled lyrics.

The Doors' best album and, arguably, one of the best debut albums ever.

For some reason, I've always confused this band with The War On Drugs, even though musically they have virtually no connection. Probably because I just find both bands boring.

Here's their self-titled debut album, which journalists raved about — and there you have it, an 87 on Metacritic is no joke. It's less than forty minutes long, but those forty minutes felt like over an hour to me. Perhaps it's because all the songs follow the same pattern — acoustic guitar, bass drum, and drawn-out, church-like chants. The cover art also conveys this mood; listening to it makes you feel like a lumberjack living in the 16th century.

Mumford & Sons, if they were dull, basically. It's probably a decent release, just not my thing.

You'd think a ship would sail as it's named, and an album with that name from a band with that name would be familiar to many. Had you heard anything about it before? Personally, I hadn't.

But it turned out to be a positive rock record, clearly inspired by The Beatles and the entire British wave of the sixties. Indeed, had it been released five years earlier, it would have been received with a bang. It would have been equally well received had it been released ten years later, when R.E.M. and U2 were gaining momentum — it would have fit right in with them, too. In the early seventies, however, no one really wanted that kind of music, and the album's release went virtually unnoticed.

It's a pleasant release, well-preserved to this day, well-recorded (I especially liked the acoustic parts). All the songs on it are good, but that's about it — none of them offer anything particularly groundbreaking.

I listened to this album for the first time. I'd previously avoided it because, for some unknown reason, I thought it was elevator music.

I know, I know — incredible ignorance. This is more suitable for a stroll through a dimly lit park at night, enjoying a sunset by the sea, a slow dance with your girlfriend, the backdrop to an old French film, or, ultimately, a theoretical moon safari. And I wouldn't mind a leisurely ride to the seventieth floor in a panoramic elevator to this album. French electronic music: minimalist and rich, psychedelic and soothing, vintage and futuristic all at once.

If I could describe this album in one word, I'd say "elegant." An elegant album, not for everyday listening or for every mood.

New wave, art rock, funk rock, post-punk, dance rock, afrofunk, worldbeat, psychedelic funk... "Is such a plethora of genres really necessary to desribe this album?" you might ask.

Yes, and yes again! That's the magic of this work; its music is all of these things at once. African drums mix with funky bass, typical post-punk guitar lines are superimposed over danceable disco rhythms... Remove even one of these elements, and the entire album would crumble, but precisely because Talking Heads decided to combine the incompatible, it not only sounds coherent, but is considered by many to be their best work.

I'll still deduct one point — despite the maximum energy of the first half, some songs could have been shortened a bit; it feels like you're stuck in an endless loop. And Brian Eno wouldn't be himself if he didn't shove some semi-ambient stuff at the end. Otherwise, I recommend it!

Trent Reznor seems to have spent his entire life experimenting with sound, and while Pretty Hate Machine was dominated by synthesizers and Broken by aggressive guitar sounds, this album incorporates the best of both.

It's almost an hour of industrial history from a furious lyrical protagonist who hates everything around him, and especially himself, ultimately ending his own life. The lyrics delve into those corners of the brain and soul that you'd rather not think about, and the music sometimes forces you to vent your anger with its thunderous sound, and sometimes simply frightens you; this is aided by periodic rustling, screams, creaks, and other seemingly otherworldly sounds.

But there's nothing otherworldly here; this album was written by a living person, based on his feelings, and that fact sends a chill down your spine. I would strongly advise against listening to it in an unstable emotional state.

Surely everyone has heard the so-called "new wave of post-punk"? Yes, yes, be it the now-hyped Geese, a slightly toned-down Black Country, New Road, or, at worst, Sorry. Many people like it, but for me, it almost always comes off as pompous and pretentious.

The most interesting thing is that a band I hadn't heard before, Pere Ubu, made similar music almost forty years ago. The same rather jagged guitars, the same abundance of unusual instruments and noises, the same declarations instead of singing.

What's even more interesting is that I rather liked this album! They're certainly overdoing it with the experimentalism in places, but for the most part, it's decent post-punk, very unusual for its time. True, sometimes you still can't tell if it's the music playing in your headphones or a snowplow humming outside your window; however, that's par for the course for the genre.

As they said in the film "Crossroads," "Blues is when a good man feels bad because he's thinking about the woman he once loved."

This album follows that thesis roughly halfway; the other half is full of upbeat, I'd even say downright danceable songs. B.B. King is a giant of the genre, no matter how you look at it, and here he shines. It doesn't matter that half the songs here aren't even his, they're so-called "blues standards." What matters is how he performs them for half an hour, practically without a break (remember, this is a recorded concert), how he improvises, and how the band understands these improvisations from the first note. The audience is wild in the background, which adds a bit more energy to the record.

A classic of the genre, I can't say the album has stuck in my head, but it was a pleasure to listen to.

Imagine a new band releasing a debut album where the entire first half is filled with such blistering hits that you can't even catch a breath? You don't even have to imagine it; the album is right there.

The second side isn't bad, but it certainly pales in comparison to the first. Nevertheless, its blend of post-punk, Britpop, neon synths, incredibly dense bass, and pleasant, if not particularly profound, lyrics made this album one of the pillars of 2000s indie rock.

Its main and only flaw is how good it is; twenty years later, The Killers still haven't quite managed to overcome this, and later they completely retreated into American Springsteen-esque territory. However, some other bands haven't achieved even half the awesomeness of this single album in their entire careers, so there's no point in complaining.

Ministry is essentially a one-man band, led by Al Jourgensen. A fascinating man, he released his debut album, riding the wave of new wave and synth-pop popularity, but quickly realized he wasn't interested in this sugar-coated thing, changed labels amidst a scandal, and started doing something of his own.

This album is the quintessence of "his own," more energetic and angry. Ministry may not have invented industrial, but I'm sure Trent Reznor, Rob Zombie, and Rammstein, who clearly ripped off the riff for "Du Hast" from the second track, have all heard this album many times.

A good, rollercoaster-like release for fans of heavier music. If not for the somewhat monotonous and mediocre ending (two songs), it would easily have earned another star.

They say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but sometimes you should judge an album by its cover.

This is the case. Completely unrelated, hastily stitched photographs on a sleeve, and the same goes for the music. Half an hour of sound, like a budding band rehearsing in a garage, with a bleating vocalist, an electric guitar strummed as if they'd never picked it up before, and two drum solos as separate tracks. This is probably how the Pixies would have played if everyone in the band had been on desomorphine.

This album wasn't included in the first edition of the book. Who later decided that I should listen to this album before I die? What is this person's life like now, how are they doing?

In my opinion, David Bowie is the most overrated artist in the history of rock music. He's a talented and interesting musician, but critics (including the authors of this book, who included a third of his entire discography) are of the opinion that you should idolize him, otherwise you're a trash and don't understand anything about music.

But this album truly deserves to be added to the Bowie pantheon; it's his finest work. Everything works against the grain: there's nothing special here, the melodies are quite simple, and yet the overall mood is incredible — bright and energetic. The album seems conceptual, telling a unified story, but at the time the songs were written, it wasn't meant to be; they were simply arranged in the right order. It's still a great listen fifty years later, but when it came out, people must have been absolutely floored by it.

A classic, in short, worth listening to and re-listening to.