Reviews by ryzgee

I found this really dull, almost lift music-esque in the main. Way too peripheral with little to anchor the songs or to solicit your attention, aside from the odd funky/groovy guitar lick here and there. The songs with vocals were mildly more engaging, but in the same way as giving plain tofu a slight modicum of flavour by grinding a bit of salt over it.

A better time was had with this one compared to "Arthur", and the songs on here are actually quite catchy, both in terms of the melodies and the zany, quintessentially British lyricism accompanying them.

This did start wearing a touch thin after its first third, but there wasn't anything too objectionable going on to speak of, and the final few tracks were a notable uptick away from a drawling style which had begun to set in. Even if it's not my usual bag, I did find enough to appreciate here for the chance I might revisit down the line.

I wish Damon Albarn would just shut the fuck up and let someone else on the mic, as this album was actually fairly interesting, psychedelic and artsy beyond the first handful of numbers, but it's mired by his vocal style which gives me the shivers. Invariably, it does descend into "trying to be too clever for its own good" territory, but I quite liked the track "Death of a Party", and everyone knows the woo hoo song for being on car adverts and the like.

The 1001 list needs more albums like this. Albums which truly make you contemplate what the fuck you've just heard.

This is somewhere between synth-punk, noise rock, krautrock and avant garde, and I love it all the more for it. It's equal parts fascinating, nauseating, claustrophobic and disorientating, owing to the throbbing, repetitious percussion, looped, distorted electronic garnishes, off-centre synth pieces, the cavernous effects on Alan Vega's disenfranchised, panicked vocals, and its stern refusal to occupy mainstream conventions.

This is a perfect 10 in my world. It's clear to see how it influenced so much "weird music" that I enjoy.

I kind of enjoyed this, and appreciated taking in something different to the assortment of mid-to-crap rock albums that I've been dealt with over the last week or so. A South African acapella album, the harmonies here are lucent, impassioned and catchy, even if the language barrier gets in the way. The voices layer on top of one another in a compelling way, giving the songs a degree of depth which belies its lack of instrumentation.

I'm not sure how quickly I'll return to this, but I will at some stage.

Definitions from Oxford Languages · Learn more
joyless
/ˈdʒɔɪlɪs/
adjective
not giving or feeling any pleasure or satisfaction; grim or dismal.
"she had to face the thought of a joyless future"
"mate, that 1001 album I listened to this morning was such a joyless affair"
Synonyms: unhappy, sad, depressing, miserable

This was a struggle, mainly due to the vocals on a number of tracks, but also due to my limited interest in what manifested as a fairly generic album compositionally across appreciable portions. I nearly turned the album off after track two as the vocals were that bad, but fortunately they were more palatable from there on in.

Frustratingly, there were some cool guitar exploits dispersed here and there, however these never felt capitalised on to any meaningful degree to truly elevate the songs.

Even as a non-fan of The White Stripes or Jack White, surely there were better albums to choose from within their respective canons.

Perhaps I'm just not in the right mood this morning, but this album largely washed over me. I can't recall anything that made itself known within it - a playful riff, a memorable vocal inflection or a thoughtful piece of lyricism. It just did its thing and then it was done. Bland.

Musically, this was a competent enough, but unaffecting baroque pop album. Some nice piano exploits, but overall this was a bit too delicate and polished with little that really broke the mould or solemnity at any point, and it was fairly generic / predictable with regards its cycling between quiet and loud passages.

Vocally it was absolutely awful - imagine the geezer from Sleep Token if he was somehow even more over-dramatised, self-important and joyless in his approach to vibrato wailing.

My Mum very rarely ever objects to any music that I put on (she even tolerates endless gurgling and swathes of double kick without too much resistance, bless her soul), but today I've learned that this The Police record is a step too far to ever be played at home as she can't stand Gordon Sumner (Sting)'s vocals. Her intense disliking of The Police caught me off guard somewhat, as I didn't think this was too bad - at points pretty good, even, via the heavy hitters such as "Message In A Bottle" and "Bring On The Night" with those sumptuous bass lines and slight quirkiness to the playing.

Lyrically, it's a bit silly and somewhat suspect by today's standards across significant patches (the "my fine young son has turned out gay" line in "On Any Other Day", in particular, raised an eyebrow) which probably stands in the way of this being a potential purchase for me. Some of the reggae-influenced tracks also felt a tad half-baked with ideas above their station to my ears, but they didn't derail the experience to too great an extent.

Tedious, unaffecting rubbish. Imagine if Radiohead went a bit more theatrical, whilst simultaneously stripping away everything from their sound which makes them compelling and shifting their lyrical focus towards teeny boppy nonsense, and you'd have something which closely resembles this. Seriously, who is this for? People going through a mid life crisis?

I've got a confession to make - the only QOTSA album I've ever heard (and own) is Songs For The Deaf. Why I've never explored them further is a source of great mystery to me - I'd always been meaning to, and this album proves that they had "it" from the start. In fact, I might actually prefer the more wandering, desert-ish feel of this album, without it sacrificing too much in the way of hooks and catchy guitar exploits.

It's a much more immersive experience than I'd have had QOTSA down for, where their own identity can clearly be observed in the first instance through a characteristic style of playing and guitar tone.

Undoubtedly purchase quality, and this has been the kick up the arse that I've needed to launch a solo discog effort.

This started out great, with Tom Waits' sardonic humour shining through and serving as the key draw of the songs, where the instrumentation acted as more of a base to keep things subtly ticking along. Before too long, however, it really did start becoming samey and fatiguing, and it's 73 minutes in length so it's an experience I'm unlikely to want to repeat. There are far better and more engaging Tom Waits albums out there, as I've come to establish through my own exploration.

I actually kind of enjoyed this, and wasn't expecting a more atmospheric, jazz-leaning pop country album from Willie Nelson.

There's practically zero trace of the outlaw/bandit stylings which set my teeth on edge, in favour of some genuinely lovely, delicate soundscapes. I'm not sure I recognise any of the original versions of these covers, so I might have to seek them out to know if they've been dealt ample justice here, but my unlearned assumption would be that they have.

A classic, foundational album in heavy metal history.

Venom are considered pioneers of black metal by, well, coining the term, and they inspired its future direction by combining the speed and tenacity of Motorhead with the darkness and grottiness of anarcho punk / the UK82 scene, and the satanic lyrical themes of early heavy metal.

The likes of Crass, Discharge and Rudimentary Peni loom large here, particularly so on a number such as "Buried Alive" where the track opens up with that disenfranchised, slower, tension-invoking playing, or towards the conclusion of "At War With Satan". It's during those more choatic moments where I feel that the album truly shines, but it's a consistently engaging experience nonetheless. Varg supposedly hates Venom, but most rationally-minded people hate him as well.

Now time for a rant / monologue about the scarce representation of metal in the 1001. It's a real shame and a terrible undersight.

This is a great start and a more than worthy inclusion, but you'd surely have to acknowledge Bathory and Celtic Frost / Hellhammer as well, as far as first wave black metal is concerned. Then there's no second wave black metal in the list whatsoever - the style that most people would envisage when the genre is mentioned. I'd have at least an album apiece from Emperor, Immortal and Darkthrone to cover the bare essentials, and you probably would have to give Mayhem / Varg their dues in some way despite the rampant controversy and dickheadery.

I'll be writing a letter to Mr. Robert Dimery when time allows.

In customary The Who fashion, this is rather pretentious (not least the silly "radio jingles", introductions/intermissions and laughable attempts at being abstract in a lyrical sense), and at times very grating. However, I did prefer the greater lean into psychedelia that can be observed on this album, and the songs generally seemed more cohesive, with clear structures and comprehensible ideas.

I'm still baffled as to their popularity and the esteem in which they are held, but this one won't be joining the shit pile as it wasn't without merit.

I chuckled at the disparity between how the album cover bigs this up, versus what you actually get. An unsuspecting person might expect a comedic, ironic take on hip hop, but what we have here instead is a listenable, but fairly tame indie album that largely stays in the same lane.

In fairness, there wasn't much to actively dislike here, but equally there wasn't much of anything memorable going on across 73 minutes. It's all very pleasant, inoffensive and easily digestible, but perhaps a bit joyless and over-earnest so that it eventually dissipates into background noise.

Brutally boring, and the vocals are just not for me. This is the third Elvis Costello album I've had so far, and absolutely nothing about any of them appeals to me in the slightest. I might just default to giving the other 74 albums he has in the 1001 two stars each, as I really cannot be arsed to put myself through any more of his music.

The first track was great, capturing my attention to a greater extent than anything else I've ever heard from Prince. However, the immediate downturn that followed was a sharp one, and a firm reminder of why I absolutely cannot stand Prince. There was literally nothing else half-decent on Disc 1, which is all I managed to get through.

I was only familiar with the track "Birdland" prior to today's undertaking, which I very much enjoy, but I've never got round to checking this album out. I'm glad that opportunity has come around today, as this is such a radiant, joyful experience all the way through.

An album such as this doesn't need vocals to ingrain its catchy sensibilities into you - everything from the electric piano, synthesisers, bass, saxophone, conga drums and even the hand clapping, are transcendent and each possess their own unique abilities to worm their way into your ears. You're consistently left intrigued as to the direction of travel, whilst the songs remain anchored to a central idea and don't ever exude any self-indulgence as can be an issue with some jazz fusion. Everything on here feels vital and like it has a purpose.