Reviews by mondo-kun

In the 1980s, disco music was considered (undeservedly) about as trashy as most songs of Billboard's top ten are today. The members of Daft Punk didn't think so, and based their first album largely on samples from the genre, as well as breakbeat, techno, indie rock—everything that was popular in the 1990s.

The problem is, it doesn't sound like a coherent album. Initially, the duo just wanted to release a few songs, but they found they had enough material for a double LP, so they decided to strike while the iron was hot. That's probably why for every catchy song they slapped on two long, repetitive ones. It's not such a big deal, though — after all, for the band, it was a trial run, literally "homework." They would release their best album four years later, but the authors of this book, for some unknown reason, decided to ignore it. You shouldn't do that.

Before listening, I decided to read a short biography of Miles Davis; it's certainly impressive. He lived a relatively short life, but managed to play with a large number of renowned musicians and, most importantly, became the founder of several jazz styles. This record is a collection of his works from 1949-1950, which later became the foundation of the subgenre known as cool jazz (hence the album's title).

The problem is that jazz gives you two options: either you're in the know, or it's completely out of your league. I'm going with the latter. The album is just over half an hour long, and it's all seemingly different, yet for me, it's all the same. It's not easy to listen to, and the slight feeling of being a bohemian in a 1950s American restaurant quickly becomes tiresome.

Star for the fact that the author became a colossus of the genre during his lifetime and remains one to this day, and a star for the fact that, overall, this album can be pleasant background music for work, cooking dinner, or even dinner itself.

I have a good feeling about the band, but I've never listened to this album. It was the right decision, and I won't listen to it again.

Beastie Boys music generally has one purpose: to pump you up. This album fails. It's monotonous, repetitive, and feels like the guys are just yelling at you on the street for an hour. It sounds bad: the entire album, except for the vocals, is made up of samples, which is impressive, but it feels like the final recording was done on a tape recorder.

I read the reviews, and they praise the lyrics. Probably deservedly so, if you're American, but from my perspective, it seems like some kind of pedantic rant with a bunch of obscure references.

Who added this album to the list, and why? It doesn't even work as background music, and I don't understand who listens to it consciously. Very disappointed.

This album is the quintessence of old country. Nothing superfluous, everything is as it should be: acoustic guitar, the occasional violin, stories about the homeland and a man (loved or no longer loved), told in a singsong voice by beautiful female voices.

Genre-wise, this album wasn't even recorded by a supergroup, but a hypergroup. All the vocalists came from classic country backgrounds, but over time, they took different paths and became very famous along the way. They respected each other's music, which is why they decided to make a whole album together, paying tribute to their roots. It took them a long time, ten years with breaks, but they finally finished it.

This album is not for everyone; it might seem boring towards the end, but for me, those vocal harmonies gave me a sense of calm.

When I was young, I thought a midlife crisis came when you started listening with pleasure to the solo projects of Genesis members. Well, here it is, apparently.

This is the first time I've listened to this album and Peter Gabriel's music in general properly; coincidentally, it's his most successful record. He'd been out of Genesis for ten years when it came out, so it's no surprise that almost nothing of the old, abstruse prog remains here. Instead, there's a wealth of varied percussion (primarily from southern countries), some funk motifs, a few ballads, and even a touch of ambient.

In the end, it sounds as if the less pretentious U2 were combined with the more upbeat Tears for Fears, topped off with the soundtrack to The Lion King. A very good album, and it was a pleasure to begin my acquaintance with this artist's work.

All I knew about Rod Stewart was that he had signature haircut, a plethora of flamboyant, bordering on tasteless, suits, and a couple of disco hits.

It turned out Stewart wasn't so simple. Firstly, he launched his solo career while still being in the Faces, under two contracts. Secondly, on this album, almost entire band plays with him, yet it was released as a solo album. And thirdly, in keeping with the fine tradition of the 60s and 70s, two-thirds of the album consists of covers of songs by other, already established artists. There's the secret to his success!

As for the sound, there's no hint of the disco that would follow a decade later — it's upbeat rock 'n' roll with an acoustic guitar and a bluesy edge. "Dylan-esque," I would have said, if the lyrics weren't mostly about past and current women. I don't really like Dylan, but this would offend him.

The best thing about this album is its bright and unusual cover. The same can't be said for the music; it's simply uninteresting.

No, for its time, everything sounds incredibly organic; I'm sure the recording process was like this: they went into the studio, got some joints, started jamming, eventually chose the best options, and off they went. That worked perfectly in California in the 1960s, but not anymore.

The main thing is I don't like Janis Joplin's vocals (who went on to a solo career after this album, but for obvious reasons, not for long). It feels like she's in two states: either she's screaming her head off, or she's talking like Marge Simpson. It's a matter of taste.

I understand why this album made the list, but I don't plan on listening to it again.

It's impossible to pinpoint the approximate year of the album's release based on the cover alone — it could have been 80s new wavers, 2000s indie rockers, or today's Pitchfork regulars. The same could be said about the music — it's a playful, synth-heavy blend of funk and post-punk in its more positive form. Something similar could have been played by Talking Heads, The Smiths, Blossoms, or Parcels — the boundaries are quite thin. Perhaps this desire to please everyone at once backfired on the band, as they didn't last long.

Nothing special, just a pleasant album that's good to listen to while doing something unobtrusive; sometimes that's more than enough.

Their second album was a springboard for them, and unlike the raw, punk-rock first, it emphasizes reggae (as reflected in the title). Sting, who hasn't yet fully developed his style, still vocally mimics Bob Marley, and the backbone of the music is, of course, Stewart Copland, whose energetic yet relaxed drums run like a skeleton throughout the record. It's a shame he's not quite as accomplished a songwriter, and the three fillers he contributed prevent me from giving the album the highest score.

Typical pop music of its era.

Jack Antonoff has cranked up the most generic production from ten years ago. If the song is slow, it's built on a kick drum that sounds like a pillow being hit, and a snare drum that sounds like a slap on the thigh. If the song is fast, you remember how fast pop songs sounded in 2015-2017, like you're attending an aerobics class.

And Lorde herself, for me, has always been a one-hit wonder, and she'll probably remain so — this album has a couple of earworms, then she'll go off into some other realm.

I'll say right away that this is a mood-based record, and now, with the black-and-white palette outside, is the perfect time to listen to it. It's hardly depressing, but melancholic, yes. Let's just say any of the songs would be suitable for the title theme of a James Bond film.

The entire album has a consistent tempo, the structure of each song is very similar, and surprisingly, it manages not to get boring. Occasionally, the jazz samples are diluted with sudden, but not at all unnecessary, hip-hop (or nu-metal, depending on your preference) DJ ​​scratches. On the last song, these scratches are replaced by a lingering guitar riff. Beth Gibbons's voice, although not the strongest, is the icing on this melancholy cake.

Definitely not The Doors' worst album, but for me, not their best either. Jim Morrison's blues obsession in his later years likely led to the band's shift in sound on this album; in my opinion, they shouldn't have done that; that's not what made The Doors great. Some songs are downright boring, and The Black Keys' take on "Crawling King Snake" is a better choice (old ones, don't hold it against me).

However, the entire album is worth listening to, especially the last song, "Riders on the Storm." Simply magical. Ray Manzarek's keyboard solo, the sound of the waves... And Jim's strained vocals are very fitting here; he may have lived a sinful life, but he said goodbye beautifully.

You can have different opinions about Back to Black, but at least it never gets boring; Frank is an hour long, and halfway through I was already tired of these repetitive homages to Sinatra. Another reason to consider that it was Ronson who made the second album a cult classic.

All the components of success are in place — a pleasant voice, reverences to old Motown releases in sound, the lyrics are mostly about love... At the same time, the album owes a considerable share of its popularity to the people who made the sound here, Mark Ronson and Salaam Remy; the songs from the former, in my opinion, came out more interesting. The audience and critics rated the record extremely highly, and overall it's not bad, but I don't understand this degree of enthusiasm, maybe it's just not for me.