Reviews by ryzgee

Progressive R&B, funk rock, neo-soul, art rock and rap rock with Lenny Kravitz and the geezers from Good Charlotte featuring on tracks? I don't think an impressionable 11 year old me would've found that even remotely appealing, let alone now.

It's decidedly average at all of those styles at best, and insufferable at its worst. They clearly had no one in their ear telling them "no", and somehow even managed to swindle a contract with Virgin Records. It beggars belief.

This was rather quirky and interesting for significant portions of its running time. Equally, however, it disappears up its own backside a touch too much for my liking. It's a bit like a symphonic The Beatles crossed with Dead Can Dance and maybe even some Steven Wilson - if that sounds pretentious to you, then you're right, it absolutely is.

I'd happily re-evaluate this one down the line, not sure if it's essential enough to warrant a spot on the list however.

I have (and quite enjoy) Back to Black, but had never taken it upon myself to listen to Amy Winehouse's debut album, so I was kind of looking forward to doing so. Unfortunately, this is nowhere near as good or sonically developed as its successor, and she rubs me the wrong way vocally for large parts of what I managed to get through.

I work on the basis of "if I couldn't finish it, it's getting a one star" which is perhaps slightly harsh on this one, but sorry Amy, this just isn't it.

This is something that the original list needs more of.

It's angular, artsy, nervously off-kilter and intelligent, yet modest and personable in its execution. It gives off the constant impression of only being seconds away from impending collapse, but it never quite does fall in on itself. Lyrically, this is an exhilarating showpiece of the politically charged, progressive themes attributable to punk music, whilst Mike Watt contributes a more unorthodox method of writing through his abstract "spiels".

Minutemen were considerably ahead of their time, and their importance to post-hardcore as one of its progenitors cannot be understated. It has as much in common with Talking Heads, Wire, even Captain Beefheart and Frank Zappa as it does with the likes of Descendents, Black Flag etc al. Their run was cut agonisingly short owing to D. Boon's tragic passing, a proper case of "what if" despite already making a seismic impression.

Just completely unlistenable for me unfortunately. Like auditory battery acid.

This is actually not too shabby. I was half expecting some run of the mill "lads causing havoc in Tesco, great banter innit" album, but this is much more psychedelic and nuanced than that. There is some genuinely decent 70s throwback style riffage here, combined with the off-kilter energy of British indie and almost sea-shanty like glockenspiel.

The problem for me is that it doesn't breach the threshold between "decent" and "great" often enough to be an experience that I'd actively seek out again. It's consistently very listenable, interesting at points even, but it doesn't really get me off my seat.

Could have, and should have been an email.

I'm convinced that this album only exists as some elaborate sadomasochistic social experiment. Anyone claiming to enjoy it has been commissioned for their opinion, or held hostage.

Needless to say, I didn't indulge in its 3 hour running time.

Have I just stumbled upon the quintessential pop-soul album? It's not a genre I have much experience with at all, but there's surely not much else out there to rival this in quality.

One of those albums where everything hangs together impeccably, despite some absolutely bonkers ideas regularly cropping up out of left field, and such a wealth of diversity from track to track. Stevie Wonder's voice is fantastic, and through his lyrics he explores themes of striving for world peace, the trials and tribulations of living in the US as a person of colour during the Civil Rights era, and throughout there's a perfectly balanced blend of gratitude for life, but also an anger towards the pool of injustices and challenges it brings. It reconciles the chaos and upheaval of inner-city life into such a wonderful sonic experience.

Getting to hear stuff like this for the first time is precisely why I signed up for this monolithic undertaking.

Pretty tedious, one-paced stuff for the most part. I get that's entirely the point given the musical style concerned, but some fleeting flickers of variety and vigour on occasion would have been nice. Instead I'm lying in bed very much tempted to drift back off again.

He has a unique voice at least, and this probably isn't all that bad for what it is. But it's not for me. That's all I've got.

Classic Green Day, striking the perfect sweet spot between their rougher around the edges beginnings and exceedingly polished post-Warning offerings. My introduction to the band was American Idiot, but something about this album felt (and still feels) a lot more genuine to me. It's a seamlessly bound package with such an infectious charm to it - a couple of minor weak points in the second half prevent me from giving this the 5⭐ treatment, but it's pretty damn close.

You can imagine the sense of dread which set onto me after receiving this album, as hip hop is largely not my thing. Overuse of N-bombs, muthafuckaz, drug/gangland themes, too lengthy and lacking in variety are all criticisms you could level towards this one as well. However, there are actually some very enjoyable funky, groovy beats and dirty bass to be had here if you're able to dissociate from what he's rapping about, and he has a very tidy flow/delivery. It's got that "smoked out" type of vibe going on. I'm really not qualified to go into much more depth on this sort of stuff, and I'm highly unlikely to consciously return to this, but I'd imagine there's far worse out there.

I'm very much conflicted with this one. When the album settles into less assuming, contemplative pockets ("The Beat", "Hand in Hand", and a couple of other points within its second third), it ventures closer towards being within my wheelhouse, but I can only describe measurable portions of this album as "bad American sitcom theme tune music". It captures an angsty, rebellious mood of sorts, but channeled through a sticky-sweet sonic template with a nasty aftertaste. It's a kind of over-exerted new wave album which crosses the threshold in which I'm willing to tolerate in large parts.

Vocally, Costello is not my cup of coffee at all here, whereas I can't remember this being a significant issue that I took with My Aim is True (though, it is an album that I already have barely any recollections of, so I'd have to revisit it to compare fairly). I guess I understand his energetic, kind of sarcastic appeal, and can hear the influence sought from later alt-rock vocalists, but I'm not keen on a great many of them either.

Crop me out of your film, ta mate.

I've heard this one enough times at work through one of my former colleagues incessantly playing the CD (that I bought for them as a birthday present 😬😬), to know there's absolutely nothing for me here. Time is precious, and I don't need any "not like the other girls!!!" shite in my life.

I've got next to no background with Elvis, and unfortunately this one hasn't left a great impression on me. His vocal style was the main obstacle towards me getting much out of it at all. In an instrumental sense, there's some nice, warm bass work here, and it's clearly an impassioned, personal album from a lyrical perspective, but I just can't do 50 minutes of it.

Thanking the 1001 Algo for today's exercise in musical education being a mere 27 minutes at least. Another band which my Mum grew up hearing at home; I'm familiar with a few of these tracks through her playing them over the years, and the album was a pleasant enough listen. Ultimately it's just not really my thing though, despite understanding, to a degree, why it's on here.

This was the definition of "meh". Absolutely nothing offensive about it whatsoever, but there was nothing that stuck in my mind about it at all, and at 62 minutes in length, it's about 20 longer than it needed to be. Really disappointing to go from Rust Never Sleeps to this.

I haven't really got anything witty to say about this one. It's brilliant in patches (the opener in particular is a generational statement, maybe even an all-timer), but much of the album from therein ranges from being decent to decidedly average - it hits a real lull towards the middle, and I never need to hear "Oh Yoko" again. It's John Lennon so of course it was going to find its way into this list, I'm not averse to it being on here but the multitude of other Beatles related selections does call into question how many albums truly are vital listening.

Slint’s music took its sweet time to register with me, but nowadays this is one of my go-to albums when I'm feeling down in the dumps. Considered as early purveyors of post rock, Slint’s approach to songwriting differs somewhat to the “crescendo-core” style which would become the dominant force of post rock in the 00s and beyond, whilst also providing a clear blueprint for what was to come.

Slint (and others such as June of 44 and Tortoise) walked with the idea of building from quieter, shimmery passages into agonistic releases of tension so that the likes of Explosions in the Sky and Mogwai could run, however Slint’s music has a distinctly more angular, volatile and abrasive nature to it as opposed to the largely linear, grandiose and hopeful approach of later acts. Their climaxes are shorter lived and significantly less easy on the ear, best showcased on “Don, Aman”, “Washer” and “Good Morning Captain”, with throes of optimism very much at a premium throughout Spiderland. The overriding mood is one of disharmony, alienation, longing and existential dread, particularly as you advance into the second half of the album where an air of resignation begins to set in, following a comparatively raucous first half.

Brian McMahan’s vocals are often spoken or even whispered, but also share a commonality with the exploits of earlier emo and post hardcore frontmen of the time when he goes for that wailing, desperate louder style. His lyrics come from a place of loneliness, but also of social anxiety, his narrative writing laying bare his struggles of tussling between the two conflicting predicaments.

The sum total of Spiderland makes for an uncomfortable, yet strangely sentimental listen for me, and one which I have really gravitated towards in recent years.

Step aside Malcolm McLaren, this is how you make a plunderphonics album borrowing from various cultures, without it coming off as a cynical attempt. None of this should work in tandem - but it does, and that's the entire point of the genre, rather than just mindlessly mishmashing samples and themes together until you end up with a gigantic ball of ruined Play-Doh.

We get a wonderful array of samples, not least the religious chants / sermons and tribal percussion, re-contextualised into electronic soundscapes and underlined by David Byrne's customary angular playing. It's an unpredictable headfuck of an album - can you dance along to it? Not really. Is it passive listening? No. Is it laden with earworms? Also no. But it satisfies the "I like weird things" receptors in my brain and makes for a strangely spiritual, exhilarating experience. I am perhaps slightly more likely to gravitate towards Brian Eno's ambient works than this one, but it more than has a place in my library, and will be getting a purchase if I can find a decent quality copy of it.

Brian Eno even had the decency, unlike a certain someone, to remove the track "Qu'Ran" from the album's original tracklisting as it was deemed to be in bad taste by the Islamic Council of Great Britain. Listening to the track today (which is available on YouTube and on certain physical versions) - I wouldn't say it's any more culturally invasive than the rest of the album's religious sampling, containing sacred readings sung by a Muslim cleric, but it shows that Brian Eno wasn't fuelled by self-interest and had a high measure of respect for the corners of the world that he sought from.

Considering that it's country rock, which in most circumstances I would gladly pay to see being mass-excavated into a landfill plot, this was actually... just as shite as I was expecting for the most part. I will acknowledge that the opener "Christine's Tune" is genuinely a rare, rollicking banger of a tune for the genre, "My Uncle" also had a bit of energy to it and "Juanita" is a passable enough ballad, but much of the rest descended into that wet, skin-crawling mid-paced slop which we apparently didn't have enough of in this list. Give me up-tempo bonky bonk over some lad doing his best sheep impression whilst giving a guitar a manicure any day of the week.

Arguably even worse than the above however, we're "treated" to a spoken word organ track with someone occasionally rattling a cymbal in the background as the album's closer. Who in their right mind would've signed off on that? These jokers apparently.