Reviews by nevele

Deadwing often sits in the shadow of the two albums that usually get called their masterpieces, but for me this is the one. My personal favorite.

It shows how Porcupine Tree strike a precise balance between rock and metal. The Steven Wilson production is a huge part of that. The guitars and drums sound massive, giving even relatively simple riffs real weight. At times, especially with Mikael Åkerfeldt involved, it edges toward Opeth territory, but Wilson’s smooth vocal delivery keeps it from going fully metal.

That voice is also the weak point for me, honestly. I respect what he does, but a different singer might have pushed this even further.

The opening run is excellent. “Deadwing” and “Shallow” set the tone immediately, shifting the band away from earlier psychedelic influences.

The much named “Lazarus” does less for me. It leans too far into the softer side, and the piano feels a bit too obvious. I clearly prefer the heavier end of this band.

“Halo” stands out for its rhythm section and the guitar work from Adrian Belew, which adds a different texture.

“Arriving Somewhere but Not Here” is the centerpiece and one of the best things they’ve ever done. A long, controlled build that fully justifies its length.

Incredible album

The musicianship is undeniable. Coltrane is in great form, and the band, including Elvin Jones, plays with control and restraint. They are all playing under Hartman, functioning as a support structure for the crooner rather than stepping forward.

But this kind of slow, intimate vocal jazz doesn’t connect with me. Interestingly, when the vocals drop out, the album comes much more alive for me. The 2 minute instrumental opening of “My One and Only Love” is a perfect example.

As it stands, it feels more like something to admire than something I like.

A bit of a surprise. It starts off feeling like fairly straightforward 90s-style alt-rock, but quickly shows there’s more going on beneath the surface.

The production is uneven, and the music alone doesn’t always carry it, but the songwriting is strong. This is clearly a lyrics-first record. The sarcasm, cynicism, and especially the use of religious imagery become more interesting as they point to the failure of the very institutions they reference.

The songs gain weight once you tune into what’s being said.

This is just a bit too maximalist for me. The music, the production, and the lyrics all push in the same direction. The lyrics are often described as diaristic, but for me they miss that personal touch. Instead of feeling intimate, they come across as declarative and aimed outward.

That might well be the point, and I may not be the intended audience. But on two listens, it doesn’t land. The message is clear, but the delivery feels heavy-handed, and the emotional connection never quite forms.

For me this is a bit of a split experience. On first listen, several tracks immediately stood out. “Lo Que Quieras,” “Los Adolescentes,” and “Litoral Central” are genuinely strong, catchy indie-pop songs.

But over repeated listens, some of the shine fades. The album leans heavily on the 80s synth-pop revival sound that defined a lot of indie in that era. At times it works, but just as often it feels tied too closely to its moment, with certain songs drifting into the background.

The contrast between upbeat music and more dramatic lyrical themes adds some depth. Still, that balance isn’t consistent enough across the album.

In the end, it’s an enjoyable and well-made record with a handful of highlights, but one that feels a bit too rooted in its time to fully stand out.

Singer-songwriter albums often run the risk of being predictable, and while O manages to avoid some of the genre's common pitfalls, it doesn't entirely escape them. The album starts off nice with the addition of cello and 'Volcano' stands out as a personal highlight.

However, as the album progresses, the arrangements begin to grate. On tracks like 'Amie,' the strings lose their subtlety and become overbearing. The lyrics also struggle to hold up under scrutiny; while they are delivered with undeniable passion, they often come across as simplistic rather than profound.

This is a quintessential example of corporate, middle-of-the-road alternative rock from the early 2000s. It is an incredibly slick production where every sonic edge has been sanded down, resulting in a sound that feels "thirteen-in-a-dozen." Songs with such "polite" precision that it removes any sense of danger or grit.

While 'Ammunition' provides a brief moment of fun by injecting a bit of energy into the tracklist, the rest of the album quickly retreats into a predictable high-gloss 'radio-alt' with a thin layer of Christian-contemporary formula. A polished, clinical bore.

It’s rare to witness a band pivot so radically that they seem to invent a new language overnight, but with Spirit of Eden, Talk Talk effectively laid the groundwork for what would later be called post-rock. Knowing the backstory (a year of recording in near darkness and the obsessive editing of hundreds of hours of improvisation) makes the result even more astonishing. Despite being assembled from vast studio explorations, the album feels remarkably coherent, intimate, and deeply intentional.

Mark Hollis’s voice is the perfect anchor: hypnotic, dreamy, and completely at ease in the spaces between the notes. This is a masterclass in tension and dynamics, nowhere more evident than in the slow, almost imperceptible unfolding from “The Rainbow” into “Eden.”

What impresses me most is that while the album is experimental to its core, it never collapses into indulgence or empty abstraction and it resists cacophony. Every silence matters. Every outburst comes when it needs to.

This isn’t background music; it’s immersive and quietly spiritual.

For me a true five-star masterpiece.

My history with Massive Attack is a bit peculiar. I initially dismissed 'Unfinished Sympathy' and let the debut pass me by, only finding my way back to the band through my appreciation for Portishead, Tricky, and DJ Shadow. By the time Mezzanine arrived, I was ready for it, and it did not disappoint. To call this 'lounge' or 'chill-out' music is a massive disservice; this is dark, lugubrious, and ominous territory. The opener 'Angel' sets the tone perfectly: creeping and tense, with Horace Andy’s fragile vocals providing a brilliant contrast to the aggressive, heavy guitar riffs. This play of contrasts is what makes the album so high-caliber. Whether it’s the wonderfully languid and repetitive flow of 'Risingson' (which harbors something genuinely frightening beneath its Velvet Underground sample) or the driving, rhythmic tension of 'Inertia Creeps,' the album feels like one big, flowing progression of unease. A special mention must go to Elizabeth Fraser. Her heavenly, ethereal vocals on 'Teardrop' elevate the song to soaring heights, providing a moment of enchantment in an otherwise claustrophobic landscape. Even when the album briefly flirts with a softer sound on 'Exchange,' it never loses its edge. This isn't music for a quiet night by the fire; it’s an immersive, high-tension masterpiece that remains a personal favorite. An undisputed 5-star essential.

Barton Hollow delivers very smooth acoustic country/folk songs with genuinely lovely harmonies from a likeable duo. The vocal blend is clearly the selling point, and technically it’s all very well done.

But for me, it’s far too quiet, predictable, and ultimately rather empty. The constant, methodical alternation between male and female vocals becomes a chore.

It’s probably well-written, but there’s nothing here that excites. At times, its politeness even turns slightly annoying.

Ironically, the title track, “Barton Hollow,” stands out precisely because it feels out of place. That swampy blues energy gives the album a pulse the rest of it lacks.

A record that will likely appeal to those looking for smooth, late-night background folk-country. For me, it just never goes anywhere.

I didn’t even realize the remaining members of Talking Heads had released an album under a different name until I saw this on the list. As a piece of musical history, it’s a fascinating look at a band trying to move on from a messy divorce. As a cohesive album, though, it’s a mixed bag.

The opening stretch is promising. “Damage I’ve Done,” with Johnette Napolitano, is very much of its time: distorted mid-90s guitars balanced by bass tones that flirt with late-80s atmospherics. It even brushes up against Skunk Anansie territory.

By the midpoint though, it becomes hard not to notice that No Talking Just Head doesn’t sound like Talking Heads without Byrne so much as it sounds like a sampler of mid-90s alternative, technopop-punk, and moody electronic rock. Garbage, Republica, Curve, Elastica, Skunk Anansie, Veruca Salt, Sneaker Pimps. Echoes of all of them appear, often more clearly than a distinct identity of its own.

It’s partly rescued by “Indie Hair” with Ed Kowalczyk, a rare moment where the band feels like it’s found a groove of its own rather than borrowing someone else’s.

The vocalist roulette, however, makes the experience uneven. Maria McKee and Andy Partridge clearly understand the assignment and lift their tracks, while other moments fall flat. The Shaun Ryder collaboration is as unlikable now as it was when it was an underground clubhit, and several songs in the latter half feel like throwaways.

It’s an interesting ’90s time capsule, but it ultimately proves that while the rhythm section is legendary, the Byrne-sized hole in the center is hard to fill. A few standout moments, but mostly just… okay.

Not much needs to be said about this one. I was a huge Kyuss fan in the 90s, and Queens of the Stone Age kept carrying that musical style forward. This album was the deserved breakthrough.
Songs like "Go With The Flow," "No One Knows," and "Song For The Dead" (one of the best drum intros of all time) completely balance out the few somewhat lesser songs on the album. Even if the AM radio intermissions start to become a bit annoying.
An easy 5 stars.

Espers’ II was my first exposure to the band, and going in I was skeptical. The idea of a neo-psychedelic folk trio didn’t exactly excite me. But within a few songs, it became clear this was far darker and heavier in atmosphere than I expected. The production is extremely thick, almost closer to metal than folk, and that really works here.

Forget the “freak-folk” tag. This is Wyrd Folk in its truest sense. Not with a wink, but with high-tension shadows and ritualistic atmosphere. Despite their Philadelphia roots, Espers sound like they’ve emerged from a cellar in the English countryside, bringing with them a sense of dread that feels closer to Coil or This Mortal Coil than anything distinctly 21st century.

The instrumentation plays a huge role in that feeling. The layered woodwinds and Greg Weeks’ cello create a lingering, gothic unease that feels genuinely unsettling. The modal, droning vocal performances from Meg Baird and company tie it all together, favoring an experience over a collection of individual songs.

I’m currently sitting at around 4 stars for this one, but it feels like the kind of record that could grow with more time.

Extremely trope-heavy revival hard rock, executed very well. The vocals are genuinely strong, the songwriting hits every classic hard rock marker, and the whole thing is clearly made by people who love the style. Historically it feels about 40 years too late, but it’s hard to deny it’s genuinely fun if you meet it on its own terms.

I went into GLOW ON thinking I might not even really know Turnstile. Turns out I did. When "Blackout" came on as the second track, it immediately clicked. I'd heard it plenty of times before, just never connected it to the band.
What. A. Bunch. Of. Energy. For 35 minutes, one killer riff after another is fired at you. Groovy as fuck on a bed of dream pop. None of the atmosphere of machismo and violence that plagued the American hardcore scene in the eighties and nineties remains, but the enthusiasm, energy, and commitment are still there. This is hardcore of, for, and by a new generation.
If this is the level of quality coming out of guitar bands now, then maybe things are going to be just fine after all. I'm fully on board.

Besides "My Bologna" and "Happy Birthday" (which after all these years is still the song I play for birthdays because it's amazing), this album is just not as good as even some other Weird Al albums.
Let's at least agree that the follow-up 3-D, 2014's Mandatory Fun, 1992's Off the Deep End, and 1999's Running with Scissors are arguably better albums with more songs that have real staying power.
This debut is scrappier and cheaper-sounding than his later work. Some of the humor hasn't aged as well. Historically important for launching his career, but not his strongest album.

First of all, the submitter seems to have only listened to around 400 albums on the original list. Submitting a freshly released album from September 2025 seems ... odd

Saying that, this is basically the same recipe as previous BABYMETAL albums. Very catchy metal-pop. I don't mind it, but it's not groundbreaking. You could call this "BABYMETAL and friends" with the amount of collaborations: Bloodywood, Slaughter to Prevail, Tom Morello, Electric Callboy, Poppy, Polyphia, Spiritbox.

The mixture of styles sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. With Electric Callboy, "RATATATA" is a certified party anthem metal banger. With Spiritbox, "My Queen" is a great metal song. But for the rest? We've heard it before.
Fun in spots, but not list-worthy.

I've tried this many times over the years. It's so highly regarded, and so many people (including many friends) see this as a pinnacle of beauty. And I just don't get it.
Normally I can easily see why something I don't enjoy is liked by so many. But this baffles me. The lo-fi aesthetic feels like it's hiding weak songwriting. The songs themselves aren't strong enough to justify the reverence, and the cabin-in-the-woods mythology is doing too much work.
I don't get pulled in or sucked in like so many others do. The sparseness doesn't feel intentional or atmospheric to me, it feels underwritten. The fragility doesn't move me.
I've given it multiple honest attempts because some albums only reveal themselves after a few listens. This one never did.

This album did get better on second listen, but I don't think I can give it enough time to fully emerge myself in it. I know the legacy of this album and how highly regarded it is, but it didn't click for me (yet)
Will give this another try soon

This album is full of tension. Quite the underappreciated band. I'd never heard of them, even though this music is right up my alley.
After two listens, "Murder Movies" and "For Your Entertainment" are my favorites. The sound sits somewhere between Fugazi and Sonic Youth: angular, dissonant, but purposeful; and the lead singer balances somewhere between Thurston Moore and Lou Reed.
The repetition creates momentum rather than monotony. Riffs and rhythms build tension that never fully releases but keeps you locked in.
Holds up well alongside other post-hardcore on the list.