Reviews by uergsel

I don’t listen to music by transphobic, violence-glorifying Trump supporters and vulgar louts who, on top of that, rip off all their music from the greats of Southern rock.

Phew. Psychedelic rock as one long blues session, with lengthy improvised passages and hypnotic repetitions. Music designed for use whilst on mind-altering drugs, no question about it. But that also means that, with a clear head, this drivel is far less exciting and even a bit annoying, especially as it sounds like it comes from an era of countless albums that celebrate exactly this kind of sound. Musically, from today’s perspective, it’s not enough for me: bands like The Doors, Jefferson Airplane, Cream, Vanilla Fudge, It’s a Beautiful Day, Iron Butterfly and so on have more to offer. Maybe you enjoy them, if you're into Grateful Dead. Which I'm not. This is not my cup of tea.

Phew, I’m not sure I like Leonard Cohen with that 80s synth sound. But in the eighties, the plucked acoustic guitar was (supposedly) out of fashion and Leonard Cohen wanted to sound modern. Or perhaps his record label, his producer or the people around him persuaded him to go for a ‘contemporary’ sound. Ironically, “I’m Your Man”, with its treble-heavy, 80s plastic aesthetic, sounds far more dated and old-fashioned than his timeless albums from the 1960s and 1970s. The songs – which are really just beautifully written poems recited by Cohen in his deep baritone – are no worse than before, but the sound is almost unbearable today. In my view, this is one of his weakest albums, simply because it has absolutely nothing to offer musically. Why it ended up in the ‘1001 Albums’ list is a mystery known only to the compilers themselves. For me, this is one of many lapses in taste from an era when the ‘old’ acts were desperate to sound new. It’s a shame about the lovely songs. And thank goodness there are live recordings of the most important tracks, which don’t sound quite so clinical.

For a long time, I considered Madonna to be the most overrated pop artist on the scene. A thoroughly mediocre singer producing hyper-commercial music, usually with extremely daft lyrics, all tied up in a massive image and marketing campaign. Much like David Bowie, Madonna has created so many personas that it’s impossible to say which one is the ‘authentic’ Madonna. Presumably, there is no such thing as ‘authentic’ music. Madonna – and this is something I’ve learnt to ackowledge in recent years – has long set trends and, in doing so, pushed pop music in ever-changing directions, always striving to be ‘new’ and, in some way, ‘sensational’. The Madonna phenomenon has always had a strong visual and psychological element, and for a long time her personas also reflected the prevailing zeitgeist.

In the late 1990s, trip-hop and electronic music were all the rage. Acts such as Portishead, Massive Attack, Björk and Radiohead dominated pop music with a surprisingly uncommercial sound. William Orbit was a leading producer of the era who epitomised this new sound. And it was precisely this Orbit who, as producer and co-writer alongside Madonna, crafted the sound of *Ray of Light*. Musically, this was a quantum leap for Madonna, who had previously tended to operate in shallow, crowd-pleasing territory. Suddenly she sounded mature, rhythmically structured and excitingly modernist (lyrically, however, Madonna largely stuck to her mediocre pop lyrics or grand ambiguity). “Ray of Light” is by far Madonna’s best album, perhaps because it doesn’t sound like Madonna at all, but rather like an album by a sort of ‘US-American Björk’ If you ignore the thin lyrics about heartbreak and the joys of motherhood, “Ray of Light” is still a pretty good album that’s worth listening to every now and then. Not truly avant-garde, but a very successful contribution to a fascinating phase in pop music (which was soon to be superseded by boy bands and girl groups).

Thelonious Monk occupies a special place in the history of jazz. As an avant-gardist and maverick, he first came to prominence as early as the mid-1940s and composed a body of work (now regarded as classics) including “Round About Midnight”, “Off Minor”, “Ruby My Dear”, “Epistrophy”, “Misterioso”, “Well You Needn’t”), which would later appear time and again on his albums in ever-changing interpretations. “Brilliant Corners” was released in 1957 and, for the first time in a long while, consisted almost exclusively of new original compositions. The five tracks are complex, intricate and, in a way that was probably provocative to ears of the time, modern and free. Labels such as ‘bebop’, ‘hard bop’ or ‘modal jazz’ do not apply here. Monk’s music here, as on most of his other albums, is first and foremost Monk’s music. Even 70 years after its release, “Brilliant Corners” remains, above all, edgy, unconventional and not always easily accessible – an album that demands your full attention; otherwise, its unconventional edginess can be exhausting and unnerving. So listen carefully.

The Who are widely regarded as one of the most important bands of the late 1960s and early 1970s. Albums such as "Tommy" and "Quadrophenia" have made rock history, bringing the concept album — typically associated with progressive rock — into the mainstream. "The Who Sell Out" is one of a series of early concept albums released in 1967. In effect, the album is a fictional radio broadcast complete with advertising jingles. The album also features "I Can See for Miles", a classic from The Who’s repertoire that hints at the band’s subsequent musical development. But apart from that, though? The album is more of a time capsule, reproducing the sound of an era that we can no longer view without a romanticised lens. I must admit that I found it a bit boring listening to it today, perhaps because I’m not really that keen on sixties mod pop. Musically, what stands out to me above all else is Keith Moon’s drumming, as he constantly attempts to break free from the simple 4/4 time signature. To put it bluntly, it's not my favourite album by the band. It's historically significant, but musically it could have been better.

My friends are going to hate me for this review. Because they all love Rush, and this album is one of their absolute favourites. I, on the other hand, find it hard to get to grips with Rush in general, and with this album in particular. Sure, musically it’s all extremely well done. On their fourth album, Rush had perfected their blend of progressive rock and hard rock (which was virtually unique at the time). And the first side of the album in particular, featuring the seven-part ‘2112’ suite, showcases the trio’s impressive musical qualities. I find Geddy Lee’s distinctive voice – which many find jarring – to be entirely fitting. I can listen to the whole album and nod my head approvingly, but as soon as it’s over, I’ve forgotten all about it and I’m in the mood for something else. Perhaps it’s the convoluted song structures? But I listen to and love far more complex music than this, so that simply can’t be it. It’s just not music that appeals to me. Rush wants to get into neither my head nor my heart. Sorry, folks.

Although I’ve often read about this album, I’ve never actually listened to it before. This is a wild mix of electronic music, psychedelic rock and folk. I can immediately see why the album was only moderately successful at the time yet went on to become a cult classic and prove extremely influential. There’s so much going on that it will take you a long time to tire of listening to it. Therefore, this rating should be regarded as provisional.

There was a time when I considered "Brothers in Arms" to be a masterpiece of 1980s mainstream rock and Dire Straits’ best album. I wouldn’t stand by either of those statements today. At the time of its release, Dire Straits were arguably the biggest band in the business (alongside U2). Except that the actual band had fallen apart. Of the original quartet, only Mark Knopfler and his faithful Sancho Panza, John Illsley on bass, remained. The outstanding drummer Pick Withers had left after "Love Over Gold" and been replaced by the run-of-the-mill 1980s rock drummer Terry Williams. Rhythm guitarist David Knopfler had already left after just two albums. The band’s sound had gradually shifted from the blues and folk of their early albums to stadium-friendly rock-pop. Simple, catchy tunes like the daft “Walk of Life” – which had always been the fly in the ointment of the Straits’ albums – became key singles. Admittedly, the album still contained more introspective tracks such as “Ride Across the River”, “The Man’s Too Strong” and the title track “Brothers in Arms”, but overall the album remains unbalanced; from today’s perspective, it’s covered in a thick layer of that typical ’80s patina. So no, it’s not the band’s best album (that would probably be their debut or “Love Over Gold”), but the album and the accompanying tour certainly secured Knopfler a decent pension. An even weaker Dire Straits album was yet to be released – “On Every Street” – after which Knopfler disbanded the group and devoted himself to his solo career, which veered less and less towards commercialism and, ultimately, away from the sound of Dire Straits.

I don’t think we should be talking about the music on this album. It’s obviously very simple; that’s just the nature of the beast. The album is a statement. It defined punk for the general public. Although it was actually a creation of Malcolm McLaren and already represented a sort of commercial version of punk rock. The Sex Pistols, and Johnny Rotton in particular, epitomised the punk attitude. That said, the lyrics do reflect the authentic zeitgeist of the ‘No Future’ generation. An attitude that was to take root in youth culture in the years that followed, until the colourful bubblegum pop of the 1980s offered a hedonistic escape from the sense of hopelessness. But here, everything is in ruins. No future, no home, no prospects.

I’m far too late for the Boards of Canada party. I only discovered the band in 2026 through their latest album "Inferno".On first listening, their debut album "Music Has the Right to Children" is even more abstract and austere, yet fascinating at the same time. It's an impressive debut and definitely a reason to delve into the band’s entire discography.

To be honest, I was surprised that "Morrison Hotel" was suggested to me as part of the 1001 Albums challenge. I keep forgetting about it somehow. Following the overproduced disaster that was "The Soft Parade", however, it signalled a return to the band’s blues roots. Overall, I’d rank it amongst the weaker Doors albums featuring Morrison. Perhaps this is because the debut and the second album outshine everything else, and "L.A. Woman" – as an unintended swan song – is more convincing. However, with 'Roadhouse Blues' and 'Waiting for the Sun', it contains two of my favourite songs by the band. "Morrison Hotel" is good, but perhaps it also shows that the band had reached a musical impasse from which one should never have tried to find a way out with an alcoholic's mind as a band leader. This is why one searches in vain for psychedelic masterpieces such as 'The End', 'When the Music's Over' or 'Riders on the Storm'. At a different time, perhaps they could have made more of a song like 'The Spy'. As I said, it's good, but not outstanding.

While most fans would probably describe Tears for Fears' third album "The Seeds of Love" as their masterpiece, I have a slightly different view. They may have taken production up a notch with "The Seeds of Love", but I believe their songwriting had already reached the very highest standard with "Songs from the Big Chair". As is often the case, my personal history certainly plays a part in my assessment. The songs, sound and lyrics of this album struck a chord deep in the heart of my 17-year-old self. It was music from my time, made by two guys only a few years older than me. The sound of "Songs from the Big Chair", produced by Chris Hughes in a perfectly tasteful 1980s style (so well, in fact, that it still sounds fantastic today), was exactly what I loved back then. Something between Pop and Rock and New Wave. The five singles – “Mothers Talk”, “Shout”, “Everybody Wants to Rule the World”, “Head over Heels” and “I Believe” – were released, in some cases, long before the album. I played “Mothers Talk” and “Shout” on repeat before the album was released. The tracks that weren’t released as singles were by no means inferior; rather, they showcased the band's ever-changing facets – real deep cuts. The clever use of the two vocal parts, both Curt Smith’s tenor and Roland Orzabal’s velvety baritone, is particularly noteworthy, as is the fantastic drumming by Chris Hughes and Manny Elias. I can’t help but reminisce when I listen to the album. But even without the nostalgia, "Songs from the Big Chair" is a piece of music history from a remarkable band.

This is yet another one of those albums that you apparently have to have discovered at the time of its release for it to make any sort of impact. As part of the 1001 Albums Challenge, "Venus Luxure No. 1" Baby by Girls Against Boys (a strange band name, given that there isn't a single woman in the band) leaves me with no lasting impression. All I hear are typical indie rock harmonies on the aggressive side and simple song structures with sombre vocals. It's a bit like The Fall or early Cure, but in a particularly bad mood, with a sound that's generally more US-American. That don't impress me much, and by the second track, I'm already bored. With all due respect, this isn't a musical milestone, and I don't need to waste my time on this kind of strumming. It's not as bad as other stuff from that era, but it's not really exciting either.

Much of what I wrote a few weeks ago about "Back in Black" also applies to "Highway to Hell". This album propelled AC/DC to the height of their popularity. It was the last album to feature the band's original singer, Bon Scott, who died tragically shortly after its release. "Highway to Hell" is the quintessential album of the Bon Scott era. The sound had been perfected and the songwriting was spot on. Musically, there was nothing new: riff-driven, blues-style compositions with lyrics about 'real men's issues'. rock ’n’ roll, alcohol, heaven and hell, women, sex and ambiguous sexual connotations. The album features the iconic tracks “Highway to Hell", “Girls Got Rhythm” and “Touch Too Much”. Setting aside the well-known tracks, the remaining material is musically more than solid AC/DC stuff. From today's perspective, the lyrics are cringe-inducingly sexist — pure cliché — yet clichés are an integral part of hard rock culture. When it comes to AC/DC, it's a choice between this album and its follow-up, "Back in Black". But to be honest, after four, five songs, you already know the complete AC/DC catalogue.

Phew! Another Bowie album for the 1001 Albums Challenge! And yet another from his glam rock era, with that boring boogie rock and lyrics reflecting Bowie’s stardom. At this time, Bowie’s sound was probably never more similar to that of the Stones. As I've said in my reviews before, I only like parts of Bowie's work, and I have real problems with his cult albums. "Aladdin Sane definitely falls into the category of Bowie" albums that I just can’t get to grips with. In particular, I struggle with the up-tempo tracks and their ostentatious rock ’n’ roll attitude. I prefer the more introspective tracks, such as the title track. I much prefer its quirky, almost jazzy harmonies. But that song is more of an exception. Most of the album just washes over me, though it doesn't bother me as much as the opening track, "Watch That Man", or the hit single "Jean Genie", which I find unbearable even in its original version. The album ends with the best track, “Lady Grinning Soul”. Verdict: some highlights, some low points and a few filler tracks. Not a cult classic (for me), but not a complete flop either. At least that’s something.

Have all the good band names already been taken, forcing new bands to come up with silly names like Psychedelic Porn Crumpets, Viagra Boys or Django Django? Had Django Django’s self-titled debut not been suggested to me as part of the 1001 Albums Challenge, I wouldn’t have touched this album with a barge pole because the band name is so silly. I would indeed have missed out on something. Instead of the expected Mexican spaghetti western hip-hop mariachi band, Django Django play a compelling mix of art rock, neo-psychedelia, and experimental electronic pop. It's as if Pink Floyd had recorded an album of Talking Heads covers with the Beach Boys, produced by Godley & Creme. Amazing! I was already starting to feel like a grumbling boomer who rejects all new music and repeats 'Everything was better in the old days' like a mantra and would rather celebrate the umpteenth re-release by old heroes, who are just out to rake in the cash, than give new bands a chance. Et voilà: Django Django play a wonderfully relaxed, modern take on art rock, subtly nodding to their genre's roots without blandly copying the past. I’ve already dived into the rest of the band’s discography, and they seem to have perfected and developed their sound further. This debut, however, is a very strong start. Highly recommended!

I’m not really a fan of reggae and I don't know much about the genre. I find it too monotonous and clichéd. Furthermore, I get the impression that apart from Bob Marley (and perhaps Peter Tosh), nobody has brought anything substantially new to the genre. If it's reggae, then it's Bob Marley above all else; if it's Bob Marley, then it's this album in particular — the quintessence of his work. Conceived following the attempt on his life and recorded after he moved to London, "Exodus" can certainly be taken literally. It"s not only a biblical story but it also represents Bob Marley leaving his homeland. In terms of content, Marley combines religious, political, and romantic themes. The laid-back sound, polished brass arrangements and beautiful backing vocals of the I-Threes (featuring Rita Marley) stand out. However, by the time the album has finished playing, I’ve had my fill of reggae again. As I said before: I’m not a reggae fan.

That’s exactly the kind of American punk rock that I can’t stand. All the songs follow the same formula: guitar riff, drums kick in, short intro, verse, chorus, verse, and so on. The lyrics are just self-centred, post-adolescent drivel about themselves or girls that only white college lads find important. I can’t even put into words how unimportant and interchangeable I find it.

The title said it all: everything about Cyndi Lauper’s debut was unusual. From her punk-style outfit and garish make-up to her natural, non-conformist demeanour, energy and singing style, she exuded power. "She's So Unusual" is the perfect synthesis of the elements that suddenly worked together the 1980s: pop, rockabilly, punk and doo-wop. With its skilful blend of cover versions and original compositions, the album is essentially a collection of singles. Six of the songs were released as singles and charted. 'Girls Just Want to Have Fun' and 'Time After Time' became pop classics. The dedicated backing band The Hooters and producer Rick Chertoff played a major part in the album’s phenomenal success, shaping its sound. The Hooters’ frontman, Rob Hyman, co-wrote Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time After Time’ and provided backing vocals. 'Money Changes Everything' and 'She Bop' in particular sound very similar to the style that the Hooters would present on their major-label debut, 'Nervous Night', two years later. However, the backing band isn’t the main focus. Cyndi Lauper launched her global career as a flamboyant punk princess of pop. "She's So Unusual" is simply a joy to listen to, establishing a new, self-assured type of woman in the 1980s. Cyndi Lauper would never again achieve such consistency in diversity across an entire album.