Reviews by nevele

Strangely enough, a band that I've apparently left sitting on my to-listen pile for way too long. It’s eclectic in the best way. The music roughly straddles the line between noise rock and dream pop, with influences from Velvet Underground and Sonic Youth evident, but there are also hints of shoegaze and mellow sixties pop.

The first few tracks carry a subtle weight, with darker undertones both musically and emotionally. But around “Shadows,” the album shifts: it loosens up a bit. Songs like “Damage” and “Autumn Sweater” immediately stood out, and then there were songs like “Green Arrow” with a mood like sitting on a wide Queenslander porch with friends and beers as the sun goes down. “The Lie and How We Told It” carries that same quiet resonance.

“Little Honda” reimagined through a Velvet Underground lens is more fun than it has any right to be, and the feedback solo in “We’re an American Band” is gloriously chaotic.

It’s a generous album, balancing fuzzy distortion with delicate stillness. And that balance might be the real genius of it. Apparently it captures both Yo La Tengo’s noisier early edge and the mellow, atmospheric direction they’d lean into later.

This one's going into rotation. And I'm really keen to explore the rest of their catalogue.

I went into this with an open mind. I was disappointed by Angelo de Augustine's first album Swim Inside the Moon, but suspected the lo-fi, bathroom-recording might’ve been part or if not most of the problem there.

So Tomb is giving Angelo a second chance. And yes, the production is noticeably better. clean, crisp, with much more clarity. You could argue that's logical; it didn't take much. The opening track “Tomb” drew me in, and “All to the Wind” feels like a real step forward in both sound and structure.

But ultimately, no matter how well-produced it is, this kind of whisper-folk just doesn’t land for me. I don’t enjoy the style, and I don’t connect with his voice. There’s nothing objectively wrong with the album, and I can hear why it would resonate with others.

I won't be revisiting this and I don't think this one is an essential.

The Best Cover Band Ever.

Strange album. Sometimes I put it on and think it’s boring or aimless, other times it clicks and feels smooth and atmospheric. It's firmly downtempo (not lounge), and while it doesn’t always hit for me, I’ve heard much worse in the genre. Tracks like “Suzuki,” “Orozco,” and “Honey” stand out, with some genuinely nice piano and string samples. Not essential, but when it works, it works.

This is just catchy power pop/rock with some emo influences and really early 2000s vibes. It’s catchy, melodic, and confident in its sound, but also safe.
The album hooks you quickly, but loses its grip just as fast.

This is one of those albums for me where brilliance flickers in and out between deeply personal noise. In both cases, it can feel like you're eavesdropping on a private transmission not quite meant for you. That can be fascinating, or alienating, depending on your headspace.

There are really three different albums hiding in this one: some upbeat Irish-inspired folk that’s decent, a few sea shanties that lean a bit too hard into silliness, and several ballads that are overly sentimental and musically flat. Chemical Worker’s Song (Process Man) stands out a little more: solid rhythm, a working-class anthem edge, but even that feels more performative than truthful.

There’s a lot to admire here: the clarity of production, the atmospheric layering, and Sampha’s undeniably strong voice. On paper, it’s easy to see why this album received rave reviews and why it deserves a spot on a list like this. But for me, it just doesn’t connect. The rhythms and arrangements are intricate, but I find myself drifting off. It builds an atmosphere, but not one I want to stay in for long. A technically accomplished and emotionally sincere album—I just didn’t enjoy it much.

Don’t Say No might not be a groundbreaking album, but it’s widely considered the high point of Billy Squier’s career. After listening, I can see why. I went in cold, having never really heard of Squier before. Judging by the comments here, this album was formative for a lot of people growing up in the U.S., but I’m not sure it ever made much of a splash in Europe. That said, I definitely recognised a few riffs. This thing has been sampled and borrowed from a lot more than I realised.

Musically, it’s idiosyncratic stadium rock, if that makes sense: big and bombastic, but with some quirky bits too. You can really hear Queen producer Reinhold Mack’s fingerprints all over it, especially in the theatrical production. It feels a bit glam-rock strut with a bit of Zeppelin swagger.
The album veers between solid rock craftsmanship and slightly sugary or cliché moments. But the variety keeps it interesting, and for fans of REO Speedwagon, Foreigner, or Heart, this album’s a must-listen.

I can’t believe I missed this one growing up. I was a grunge kid in the 90s, and this would’ve been right up my alley. It’s exactly the kind of guitar-driven, overdrive-soaked sound I have a weak spot for. Think Siamese Dream-era Smashing Pumpkins, but heavier on the atmosphere and less caught up in angst. Five listens in, I’m still discovering new layers.

The guitars are massive, spacey, shoegaze-adjacent, and overdriven to the point of becoming textured soundscapes rather than just riffs. But it’s not all muscle. There’s a surprising amount of beauty and subtlety hiding in the noise. Tracks like “Why I Like the Robins” and “Stars” are my standouts, but honestly, the whole album holds up as a cohesive, moody ride.

What really sticks with me is the emotional pull beneath the distortion. This one’s not just going into rotation, it’s making me want to dive into the rest of their discography.

There's no denying Discovery is a landmark electronic album. Released in 2001, it's packed with hooks, French house textures, vocoder-heavy vocals, and a nostalgic love letter to 70s/80s pop, funk, and disco. It's melodic, accessible, and loaded with style. “Digital Love” and “Something About Us” show just how emotionally rich electronica can get, and the production is as precise as ever. It's playful, textured, and clearly crafted with care.

And yet... I’ve never really clicked with Daft Punk. I admire what they do more than I feel it. Discovery is widely viewed as their masterpiece. It's fun, polished, and iconic. But to me, it always felt just slightly overrated. I’ve seen them twice live and Alive 2007 was fantastic, so it's not a lack of appreciation for the performance or genre. It just doesn’t resonate emotionally like other electronic artists do for me.

Still, I can acknowledge its status as a defining post-millennial party album as someone else on here said before me. Maybe it’s one of those records I respect more than I love.

First listen I thought it was terrible, second listen I was possibly in a better mental space for this, it seems an acquired taste. I'll revisit and will edit review and stars

This one hits a strange, nostalgic nerve. I grew up hearing Gotcha! in the background, one of those Dutch bands from the early '90s that never quite broke through, even at home. And it wasn’t because they lacked talent. While Belgium had Studio Brussels supporting alternative and underground acts, the Netherlands had 3FM, a station that mostly ignored the more interesting local scenes and focused instead on international chart material. As a result, bands like Gotcha! were pushed to the margins.

Revisiting this self-titled album now, I’m struck by how tight it sounds. It’s not as loose or funky as their debut, but the production is more refined. The album blends funk, rock, and rap in a way that still feels fun and energetic, though a bit dated in places. It’s probably not the best record from that era, and arguably not even Gotcha!’s best, but there’s plenty of charm, confidence, and groove here.

After Lateralus, 10,000 Days feels like a more meditative, personal, and ultimately less focused album. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth your time. It’s still Tool, and that means enormous sound, precision drumming, weird time signatures, and Maynard’s cryptic, layered vocals weaving between it all.

The emotional core is clearly the title suite with Wings for Marie and 10,000 Days (Wings Pt. 2) being a tribute to Maynard’s mother, who spent 27 years (or 10000 days) in a coma.

As a whole, though, the album can feel bloated. It doesn’t have the tight, aggressive focus of Ænima or the precision of Lateralus. Some tracks sprawl without clear direction (Rosetta Stoned), and there’s a sense of the band stretching things out just because they can.

Still, the highs are really high. “Vicarious” is classic Tool. “The Pot” grooves hard. You just have to wade through a little more to get to the gold.

10,000 Days isn’t their best, but it’s a worthy chapter: emotional, strange, and occasionally brilliant.

There’s not much left to say about Boxer that hasn’t been said already. More than 15 years on, it remains a modern classic. Moody, beautiful, restrained yet emotionally loaded. The songwriting is sharp, the atmosphere perfectly measured, and Matt Berninger’s baritone carries a weary elegance that makes the smallest moments feel monumental.

A very 90s breakbeat album through and through. The two tracks with Navigator, Ruffneck and Warning, I already knew. But after a couple of full listens, the rest of the album doesn’t quite deliver. Even within the genre (which I have a soft spot for for some reason) it feels more like a decent time capsule than a standout release. Fun, but not essential.

It’s hard to wrap your head around the fact that this music is nearly 100 years old. Recorded between 1925 and 1929 in Chicago, these tracks don’t just mark a pivotal moment in jazz history, it's the birth of modern popular music as we know it, from rock, pop, soul, and basically any genre that values personal expression and musical conversation.

At first, this felt like well-crafted but overly polished indie pop—but as the album unfolded, it revealed more depth than expected. Lush arrangements, bittersweet lyrics, and some surprising emotional resonance crept in track by track. It’s not flashy, but it lingers. Quietly ambitious and worth a few extra listens.

This one left me cold. First time listening to this band and I'd heard Biffy Clyro described it as complex, emotionally intense, and even a bit mathy.
But Puzzle delivers none of that. Instead, it’s polished, straightforward arena rock with big choruses and surprisingly shallow lyrics. Most of the songs blur together without much bite or depth. Apparently, after reading some of the reviews here I’ll be needing to check out their earlier, rougher work. Which I will be doing. This one isn't for me.

Wait... Kick wasn’t on the original 1001 list? That’s wild. INXS were absolutely everywhere at the time. This album shows them at their peak, blending Aussie pub rock with late-'80s new wave in a way that still holds up today.

Most of the spotlight tends to fall on Hutchence, and sure, he’s a great frontman. But Andrew Farriss is the one who really holds this album together. As the main songwriter and multi-instrumentalist, he shapes the sound—from slick synthpop to rock guitar swagger—and gives the album its drive and style.

Not every song hits quite as hard, but the overall quality is high. The best tracks are undeniable, the grooves are tight, and even the weaker moments are still fun. Solid 4 stars from me.