Reviews by nevele

An incredible album with... what? Blackgaze? A shoegaze/ black metal combination?

This album still stands remarkably strong almost 25 years on. In fact, it sounds surprisingly fresh, which says as much about the album as it does about the genre. Metalcore itself hasn’t evolved all that much, or even not at all, over the past two decades, but this record remains a clear high point within it.
Killswitch Engage were not the first to blend melody and heaviness like this. Swedish bands had been combining melodic death metal with aggression and clean vocals years earlier, and others had already laid groundwork. But this is the album that definitively put metalcore on the global metal map. The fusion of European-style melodic death metal riffs with US hardcore breakdowns simply works here, and crucially, the balance is right.
The production plays a huge role in that. It’s clear, punchy, and still holds up today. Adam Dutkiewicz’s production sound in particular became a blueprint for decades to come: sharp guitars, a sharp bass presence, and a mix where every instrument is audible. Nothing is buried.
There are also just genuinely strong riffs throughout. Not filler aggression, but memorable, well-shaped guitar work.
Whatever came before or after in the genre, Alive or Just Breathing remains the moment where all the ingredients clicked.

4 stars. Influential, well-crafted, still holds up. Belongs on a 1001 albums list.

I've listened to this four times now, and it's a very pleasant album. It works well in the background, but it doesn't disappear entirely. There are moments throughout that pull your attention back in.
The combination of live drums with programmed beats and glitches really works, especially on a better audio system. This is early 2000s indie sound through and through. Glitch-pop captures it well. "Pick Up the Phone" and "Consequence" stand out for me, along with "This Room," which has a particularly satisfying heavy drums and glitch combination.
Markus Acher's slight German accent sounds genuine rather than distracting. The album balances warm elements like guitars, pianos, and strings against colder textures like glitches and synths. The production is meticulous and rewards closer attention.
The sound feels fresh enough to stay interesting, where a lot of other music from this era hasn't aged as well.

One of the most perfect power-pop/alt-rock albums of the 90s, and unfortunately also the template Weezer has been trying and failing to recapture for 30 years.

Let's address the elephant in the room first. This is one of the biggest snubs on the original 1001 Albums list. Not just this album, but Weezer entirely. At the time, this record was everywhere. A genuine cultural moment, and one of the catchiest, most irresistible guitar-pop albums ever made.
Pinkerton, the follow-up, was also excellent, albeit far darker and more abrasive. After that, for me at least, much of Weezer’s original charm evaporated.

Back in the day, like everyone else I was of course a huge fan of “Buddy Holly,” helped in no small part by its iconic video. But listening now, some of the non-singles stand out more. "Surf Wax America" really is a lot of fun and makes me feel 20 years younger.

Besides "In the Garage" and "Say It Ain't So" (which will always be on my all-time playlists), I think "Only in Dreams" is genius. A pure, unadulterated piece of pop perfection, a small mini-symphony in power-pop format.
Essential album.

Tragic Kingdom landed when I was DJing alternative music in clubs, and that context matters for me. Several of these tracks were absolute dancefloor weapons. The opening run is undeniable: the first three songs are perfectly timed, catchy, and built to move a room.

These were the songs where No Doubt finally nailed the balance between funk, ska, rock, and pop. “Spiderwebs” remains the standout for me, the moment where everything truly locks into place.

After the strong opening, the quality drops though, and as a full listen it never quite sustains its early momentum.

Tragic Kingdom works far better as a source of great tracks than as a consistently strong album.

This is, without question, the best album Counting Crows ever made, and honestly, the only truly great one.

“Round Here” says most of what needs to be said. It’s a beautiful song, built on subtle tempo shifts and emotional restraint. Intimate and unadorned, it feels completely honest. The rest of the album maintains that standard. This is Counting Crows at their most focused and disciplined.

What they get exactly right here is minimalism. Less is more. Listen to “Anna Begins”: each instrument is given space, nothing crowds the song, and the arrangement quietly supports Adam Duritz’s story rather than competing with it. The song only works because of that restraint. That kind of control and trust in the material is something only a very good band can pull off.

Which makes the rest of their career all the more puzzling. Recovering the Satellites has flashes of quality and a rougher, rockier edge, but it already feels overworked and over-polished. Everything that follows never comes close. The subtlety, patience, and emotional honesty that define this album quietly disappear.

Why they never reached this level again remains one of rock’s smaller mysteries. But this album stands on its own.

A classic that missed the boat somewhere. The problem is the production. The drums, especially the snare, are too full, too loud, and therefore too forced. Typical sound of that era, a legacy of the 80s. It sounds dated because of it.
But still, when I hear "Type" again. My god, what power and soul all at once. Unique and effective, still.
Living Colour were genuinely ahead of their time. A Black rock band mixing metal, funk, jazz, and hard rock when that combination was virtually nonexistent in the mainstream. Vernon Reid's guitar work is phenomenal, Corey Glover's vocals have real soul and power, and the rhythm section is tight and inventive.
The music here is better than their debut Vivid, but the production was better on Vivid. Time's Up is the more adventurous, mature album, but it got sabotaged by the era's sonic trends. The songs and performances are strong enough to overcome it, even if you're constantly aware of what could've been.

Day 253 of the User Submitted Albums, and I finally get my own submission! This is not an obvious choice for 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die, and I am not even convinced it belongs in any future edition of the book.

But I do think this is a forgotten masterpiece.

David Baerwald is a former addict and the son of a political victim of McCarthyism, and Triage feels shaped by that history at every turn. Released right in the middle of the grunge onslaught, it grabbed me at the time precisely because it sounded unlike anything else I was hearing. And unlike Baerwald’s earlier work, whether solo, with David & David, or his contributions to Sheryl Crow’s Tuesday Night Music Club, this is where the music finally aligns perfectly with the lyrics.

This was late-night music for me, and it still is. Triage carries an atmosphere of paranoia and after-dark unease. The arrangements are careful rather than flashy. Guitars, keyboards, and rhythm sections serve the songs instead of competing with them. Nothing here feels designed to be a hit, and that restraint is the point. The album trusts atmosphere and narrative over hooks, creating tension through emotional ambiguity rather than volume or drama. Like Tom Waits filtered through a David Lynch soundtrack.

That tension mirrors the lyrics, which oscillate between ivory-tower anger, dry cynicism, and melancholic decay. This album does not pull punches. Songs deal with murder, corruption, and societal collapse, not as spectacle but as symptoms.

The album opens with a noir-jazzy piece about seedy characters and sadism, like stepping straight into a Charles Bukowski story. “Got No Shotgun Hydrahead Octopus Blues” then swings violently in the opposite direction, a manic and disordered criticism of power in its many forms, driven by a skeletal, unsettling groove. “Nobody” shifts perspective again, presenting street-level horror through the eyes of an LAPD gang squad. The momentum holds through “The Waiter” and “Aids & Armageddon” before the album finally eases off the throttle.

From “The Postman” onward, Triage leans more into Americana roots, but the lyrics remain deeply unsettling. “The Postman” itself layers Apache helicopter sounds with congressional speeches and excerpts from Jim Jones, pushing the album’s paranoia to its logical extreme.

If you are drawn to albums that feel morally unsettled and faintly paranoid, this one earns its reputation slowly rather than on first contact.

I don't really know what so say on this one. It's clever, it's avant-garde, it's hiphop, the flow is amazing, and this is just not for me.

I've never really listened to Bob Mould's solo albums before, coming from Hüsker Dü and Sugar. It’s still guitar-driven alt-rock at heart, but more pop-leaning and varied than his earlier work. The variety works in its favor. You can hear one songwriter, but from different angles: ballads, stripped-back guitar songs, and fuller productions with layered arrangements.

“Anymore Time Between” is a beautiful opener, with strong lyrics, a great melody, and a real sense of tension. Throwing furious rock song “I Hate Alternative Rock” straight after it is a great move too, and clearly Mould reacting against what alternative music had become. From there, the album balances aggression and restraint well. Not every song hits the same level, and a few feel a bit safe, but tracks like “Thumbtack” are genuinely excellent.

What stands out on repeat listens is how often the songs avoid obvious structures. Choruses don’t always land where you expect them to, and dissonant tones keep things unsettled.

Maybe not a must-listen on its own, but a strong and interesting chapter in Mould’s career. Hearing this alongside Hüsker Dü and Sugar makes it clear how consistently high his songwriting quality has remained, even as the sound keeps shifting.

Yes, this is indeed a ground-breaking album in hiphop history.

Musically, I'm sorry to say, it's ok. Not stand-out.

But holy shit, those lyrics are AMAZING. It really serves to just sit down and read them with the songs.

It's fascinating how much creative juice the Beatles still had at the time of their breakup. Within a year of the unofficial split, they all made bold statements. Lennon released the personal Plastic Ono Band, Harrison proved with the triple All Things Must Pass that he was absolutely the most underrated Beatle, and Ringo... remained Ringo.
McCartney also carried on with his head held high. He's a master at using relatively simple melodies and letting them expand into highly lively and compelling listening experiences. On Ram, he's in damn good form. At times it's a bit "Rompe-tom-tom", but leave it to McCartney to draw precisely the best from the album without detracting from the quality of the songwriting.
From Paul and Linda's passionate vocal performances to the rich, multi-faceted songs, Ram was clearly created with a lot of love. If someone claims this is the best post-Beatles album, I can see where they're coming from.
The album's strength lies in its almost complete lack of weak moments. "Uncle Albert / Admiral Halsey," "Monkberry Moon Delight," and "The Back Seat of My Car" are the standouts for me.

This is the second Tragically Hip album I’ve gotten in just two weeks on this user-submitted list, and this one is clearly their best.

This is a highlight in the Hip catalogue. One of those rare guitar rock albums that reaches R.E.M.’s level. The band is a powerhouse throughout, never losing its way, and always anchored by the manic genius of singer Gordon Downie.

The album sounds best on a long, straight highway with no horizon, but it also works perfectly as a pub rock record. There’s a directness and confidence to it that never slips into dullness.

I’d place this band and album somewhere between R.E.M., Creedence Clearwater Revival, The Jayhawks, and Golden Earring. An under-appreciated rock classic.

4,5*

I know the band well, and I was a big fan of their debut. Their second album wasn’t really my thing, and because of that I don’t think I gave this one much of a chance at the time.

Revisiting it now, I’m aware that for a lot of people this has grown into their favourite Vampire Weekend album. I’ve read the reviews, I’ve talked to friends, and I understand the reputation it’s built. But I don’t hear it.

Compared to their most recent album, Only God Was Above Us from 2024, this record feels like it misses a level of quality. It also lacks the playfulness, jumpiness, and fun that made their first album work so well.

With the exception of “Ya Hey,” which is probably the best song Vampire Weekend have written, I don’t see the quality that others seem to find in this album.

I really enjoyed their previous 'Lost in the Dream', but what I was afraid of after that album is exactly what happened here. The tension, the part that keeps you engaged, is completely lost. "Thinking of a Place" is the one exception.
The songwriting is arguably better. Song structures have improved, lyrics are more refined. But it's more of the same without being able to hold my attention. I can't put my finger on exactly why Lost in the Dream grabbed me. Songs like "Under the Pressure" just had something extra. The buildup, the urgency. I don't know if it's production, feel, or sequencing, but it's missing here.

I've seen them live a few times. I don't mind this music at all, but it's not an album I put on regularly.

Competent but personally not engaging.

Not much more to say about Frank Zappa and this album that hasn't been said, except this: Ruth Underwood is one of the most underrated women in rock. She played xylophone, marimba, vibraphone, and percussion with the Mothers of Invention from 1969 to 1977, including on this album. Classically trained, virtuosic, and essential to Zappa's sound. Her influence is clearly audible on the "Rollo Interior" interlude and throughout "Cosmik Debris," my standout track.
This is one of Zappa's more accessible albums. Hot Rats is the best starting point for the full Zappa range, but Apostrophe (') is perfect for people coming from an easier musical listening experience. It slowly introduces the madness.
A good listening experience from start to finish. This belongs on the original list next to Hot Rats.

First half is pretty fun alternative rock/hip-hop, but very white-person versions of it. Nothing groundbreaking but enjoyable enough. Second half leans more toward hip-hop but also nothing refreshing.
Competent but forgettable. In the context of a 1001 albums list, this is a 2-star album. If I'd heard it as a new release in 2010 without those comparisons, maybe a 3. But it doesn't justify its place here.

Courtney Barnett is a true storyteller. She has a sharp inward gaze and an equally sharp eye for the everyday world around her, turning mundane observations into songs without ever making them feel trivial. The music mostly serves the storytelling, but it stands confidently on its own as well.
She really reminds me of Lou Reed. She’s the Melbourne Lou Reed. She has the city nailed, especially on “Depreston,” which captures suburban malaise perfectly and even carries a bit of that Pavement looseness in its sound. Wry, observational, funny without trying too hard.
Compared to her earlier material, this album often feels fiercer and more erratic. The gritty, catchy opening stretch shows her rock instincts clearly, shaped by her time as second guitarist in Rapid Transit. The guitar work throughout is excellent: jagged when it needs to be, relaxed when it doesn’t. Many of these songs feel full of spring energy and are carefully constructed.
And then there’s the charm. Almost every Barnett song has it, but it really shines on quieter moments like “An Illustration of Loneliness,” where vulnerability sneaks in without sentimentality.
I saw someone on here say Courtney Barnett is “one of the people I’m making fun of when I put shit on Melbourne.” I feel the exact opposite. If I had to explain Melbourne to someone through music, this album would be part of the pitch. Alongside some Amyl & The Sniffers and Painters & Dockers, it captures the city’s voice, humour, and contradictions better than most.

I know Yello but never really listened to full albums before. Which is strange, because I'm fond of bands like Art Of Noise, Kraftwerk and Depeche Mode, who were also experimenting with electronica around this time.
The sound is exactly as described: electronic but not synth-pop, funky but not dance music, experimental but weirdly accessible.
I'm also quite impressed by the production, which is 40 years old but sounds crystal clear. Every sound is spatially balanced and pristine: unlayered clarity with complex elements. Fantastic with good headphones.

This works as a complete album rather than just standout tracks. "Domingo" and "Ciel Ouvert" are current favorites, but the whole thing holds together.
Yello should've made the 1001 album list, if only to break through all the UK and US-centric music on it. This is distinctive, influential, and still holds up.