Reviews by uergsel

This is the second Sonic Youth album I have listened to as part of the 1001 Albums Challenge. I have to admit that I have ignored the band for far too long, probably because I have always steered clear of anything associated with labels such as 'indie' and 'alternative rock'. What's being celebrated here is some very artful noise. On "Daydream Nation", Sonic Youth are closer to the music and vision of the Velvet Underground than to punk rock bands like the Sex Pistols. While I wouldn't want to listen to something like this every day, the raw energy and irrepressible creativity are truly fascinating.

This is the absolute pinnacle of classic symphonic progressive rock. A band that is perfectly in tune and plays together seamlessly celebrates their artistry across three epic compositions. Needless to say, this is the band’s finest album.

I’m certainly not a fan of metal. Most of the time, I find it all too loud, dark and simplistic, not to mention clichéd. Then again, perhaps it’s because I discovered Black Sabbath at a very early age. For me, they practically defined the genre, which has left me rather jaded when it comes to most other metal and hard rock acts. Everything about this album is spot on: the guitar riffs, the driving rhythm section and the surprisingly thoughtful lyrics. Even Ozzy’s whiny voice fits perfectly. It's a milestone that remains as captivating as ever, even after 56 years.

At first, I was tempted to write:

Just listen.

But now I’ve decided to write a few lines after all. This concept album from 1971 (!), in which most of the songs flow seamlessly into one another, was revolutionary in the world of soul music. The narrative woven through the songs is told from the perspective of a Vietnam veteran who returns to his homeland, only to encounter hatred, suffering, environmental destruction and injustice. Gaye’s introspective lyrics, the perfectly arranged and produced music, Gaye’s voice – all of this makes "What’s Going On" a timeless (and alarmingly topical) classic of 20th-century music as a whole. If one focuses solely on the sound and the vocal lines, it becomes clear just how profoundly Gaye influenced not only soul music but also pop and rock music of the 1970s and 1980s with this album. Even in the trip-hop of the 1990s, one can recognise unmistakable elements from this music.

This is one of the absolutely greatest albums in music history.

Just listen.

Nope, nope, nope:

Señorita? Nope.
Like I Love You? Nope.
(Oh No) What You Got? Hell, no!
Take It From Here? Absolutely no.
Cry Me a River? Mamma mia! No!
Rock Your Body? Nice try, but no.
Nothin' Else? Nope.
Last Night? Didn't we just listen to this? Nope.
Still on My Brain? Nope, nope, nope, nope.
(And She Said) Take Me Now? Nice try, but still: Nope.
Right for Me? Wrong for me!
Let's Take a Ride? Nope.
Never Again? Exactly, never again.

If you want to know why pop music has lost its relevance in the 21st century, you only have to listen to the offshoots of boy bands, girl bands and Disney stars. Perfectly produced, schmaltzy pop, devoid of provocation or innovation, so clinically clean, so antiseptic that it all sounds interchangeable. Justin Timberlake certainly has a certain amount of talent, but this pandering to the audience (who listens to this sort of thing? 12-year-olds? Mothers-in-law? Accountants?) is unbearable. What on earth is this album doing in the 1001 Albums list?

And P. S. : Who on earth is responsible for this unbelievably ugly, cheap-looking artwork? Wasn't Justin Timberlake a superstar, and isn't he still? Couldn't he have afforded anything better? It's awful.

What actually happened to Sigur Rós? I can still clearly remember a friend enthusiastically recommending "Ágætis Byrjun" to me at a record fair. He hailed them as the ‘Pink Floyd of the 21st century’ and described their sound as falling somewhere between Porcupine Tree and Godspeed! You Black Emperor. That sounded irresistible at the time. So I bought the CD. And what I heard was a strange, out-of-time brand of post-rock – modern, yet with unmistakable references to the sonic experiments of the progressive and psychedelic bands of the 1970s. It didn’t sound bad, but it didn’t quite strike a chord with me. It took a few listens before the album that defined Sigur Rós’s sound really clicked with me. Today, “Ágætis byrjun” is a post-rock classic and, all things considered, the only Sigur Rós album I’d recommend off the top of my head. The peculiar mix of unhurried music, Jónsi’s strange voice, the electric guitar played with a cello bow, and the mysterious language of the lyrics (here: mainly Icelandic, later the invented language Vonlenska) isn’t something you can or would want to listen to all the time, but today, on an early, cool autumn evening, the music and the mood go together perfectly. To answer the initial question: Sigur Rós are still active and are probably the most successful post-rock band of all time. I’ve lost track of them a bit. Perhaps it’s time to listen to their albums again and reassess them.

Well, hmm, what can I say? Nick and I won't be friends anymore. He’s undoubtedly a brilliant songwriter, and this album is certainly one of his best. Its understated, ballad-like quality certainly suits his nature. "The Boatman's Call" is a melancholic album. The post-punk attitude of his earlier albums has vanished, and Cave makes unmistakable references to past music. Elvis, Sinatra and perhaps also Scott Walker and Tom Waits have served as his muses, both lyrically and musically. Here, Cave is not the rebel of his early years, but the poet. However, there’s always a point in his albums where the cosy poetry becomes overbearing, and the posturing and self-absorption seems to become apparent. Towards the end, I found it hard to listen to the album. If it were half as long, I’d be completely satisfied. And yes, I’m probably doing Nick Cave an injustice. But I simply can’t get to grips with him over the length of a whole album.

I understand the historical significance of punk, and I can see why people were fed up with the overproduced, saccharine music churned out by established bands in the mid-to-late 1970s. However, musically speaking, punk rock and I are no longer on speaking terms. To me, when punk is combined with rockabilly, it's like choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea. Clearly, this music was written for reasons other than my own: "Songs The Lord Taught Us" is about rebellion, danceability, irony and simplicity — music to experience at a gig and bond with others over (while pogoing). Musical originality, brilliance, virtuosity and artful composition are not the focus here. To me, it all sounds like a bunch of drunken Elvis impersonators. But that would be doing the iconic Cramps a disservice. They certainly knew what they were doing. I just don't have to like it or choose to listen to it again.

If you're a fan of the folky, psychedelic sound of The Byrds on their earlier albums with David Crosby, you might find "Sweetheart of the Rodeo" a bit challenging. Not only is Crosby’s distinctive voice missing from the harmonies, but it’s also a bona fide country and western album, musically speaking. If you can’t get to grips with that, this fifth album by the band will be almost unlistenable to you. It teems with pedal steel guitars, banjos and fiddles, and the songs are in a slow 3/4 waltz time. With this album, the Byrds were attempting a change of direction. Their success proved them right. "Sweetheart of the Rodeo" is the band’s last truly successful album, and they went on to release six more albums with various line-ups. But I simply find it dreadful. While it is certainly well-made — Gram Parsons, who was essentially a guest on the album, played a significant role — as someone with a phobia of country music, I find the album almost unlistenable.

Goodness me, I’m getting on a bit! I’ve just realised that the Eels’ debut album is 30 years old! I can still clearly remember buying the CD all those years ago. It feels like it was only yesterday. The nineties were a difficult time for me musically. Pop had been saccharine since the mid-1980s, while traditional rock genres were either overproduced or trying too hard to sound modern. Grunge didn’t really do it for me, and neither did rap. The Eels hit me like a bomb in this void. Their artfully crafted pop music combined singer-songwriter lyrics with influences from rock and electronic music. Mark Oliver Everett's lyrics, clearly drawn from personal experience, covered themes such as death, loneliness, unrequited love, depression, mental health issues, freaks, losers and loners. That was new and unprecedented. It was music for people who had somehow lost their way while growing up. Music for real people with real problems. Naturally, it spoke to me because it combined the honesty of my favourite singer-songwriters with a modern sound. 'Beautiful Freak' was an excellent debut: visionary, and setting a new standard for intellectual pop and rock music. It still feels excitingly fresh and different. The album was unbeatable. In my view, Mark Oliver Everett never produced another album quite as compelling, both lyrically and musically. But he doesn't need to. This one is for the ages.

In the mid-1970s, anything was possible in music. Progressive rock was at its peak, pop music was flourishing thanks to ABBA and similar artists, the disco wave was slowly gaining momentum and Bob Marley's reggae was becoming increasingly popular. In the UK, punk emerged as a distinct counter-movement to the established music scene. AOR was flourishing. The debut albums by Boston, Toto and Foreigner were released within a very short space of time, while bands formerly associated with prog, such as Styx and Kansas, jumped on the AOR bandwagon and saw their record sales multiply. Boston's eponymous debut album, released in 1976, effectively sparked the AOR craze. I well remember how often the single 'More Than a Feeling' was played on the radio, and how captivating I found the album's sound. However, time has somewhat diminished the album's appeal: on the one hand, it embodies virtually every AOR cliché that has been heard ad nauseam; on the other hand, it is important not to listen too closely to the cheesy lyrics. While poor lyrics were the norm back then, to me, Boston’s debut feels like a hackneyed cliché from a bygone era, both lyrically and musically. Nevertheless, it’s hard to resist the powerful compositions and Tom Scholz’s guitar work. While it is certainly the epitome of AOR, setting aside fan bias, one must admit that Scholz simply fused elements of hard rock and blues rock. That’s good, but it’s no world-changing revolution.

I should actually like The Cure. I have a soft spot for their dark post-punk/new wave sound. Their guitar sound is instantly recognisable, and the basslines really define their sound. Unfortunately, I just can’t get on with Robert Smith’s vocals. His affected mannerisms and whiny tone in particular really get on my nerves. I simply can’t take that sort of thing seriously. Then there’s the whole gothic aesthetic. It's rather silly and tends to appeal more to young girls with a soft spot for pale vampires. I could overlook it — goodness me, I listen to more than my fair share of bands with questionable outfits — if I enjoyed the vocals more. "Disintegration" is probably The Cure’s best album and certainly deserves full marks if you can stomach the vocals. As it is, however, I have to mark it down a bit because Smith's whining smothers the whole album. Nevertheless, it’s a milestone in the genre, especially given that it emerged at the end of the 1980s when there was a real vacuum in pop and rock music, which had become utterly saccharine. It has to be acknowledged that The Cure have consistently resisted the temptation to pander in their music, even though they certainly have a great talent for pop songs. Their best songs are always the ones that weren’t released as singles.

While the first two Yes albums only hinted at the band's potential, they achieved their first of three perfect albums with "The Yes Album". The quantum leap in quality had two reasons: Firstly, the virtuoso Steve Howe replaced the first guitarist Peter Banks, whose angular style did not quite fit the band's concept. Secondly, they found a producer in Eddie Offord who helped create the Yes-typical sound. The band's transformation would be completed on the follow-up, "Fragile", on which the Hammond organ-focused keyboardist Tony Kaye was replaced by the more experimental and much more virtuoso Rick Wakeman. However, even without Wakeman, "The Yes Album" was a milestone in progressive rock. Howe brought not only his musical talent to the band, but also contributed good ideas to the complex compositions. Finally, they abandoned cover versions and dared to create long, expansive compositions. The baroque pop-ish Sixties patina of the first two albums had disappeared. Yes were modern and progressive. The interplay of multi-part vocals and virtuoso passages was celebrated. The album contains two of the band's best-known songs, "Starship Trooper" and "I've Seen All Good People", as well as the fan favourites "Yours Is No Disgrace" and "Perpetual Change", in which, alongside Howe, the rhythm section Squire/Bruford plays at its best. It may be that the two subsequent albums were even better, but that does nothing to diminish the flawless quality of "The Yes Album", an album that defined progressive rock with its exuberance and virtuosity and set the direction for all future masterpieces of the band and the genre as a whole. No matter how much mediocrity and bad music the band will release in their later years (and they will release it), this is an album for the ages.

I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but I’ve always felt that Bowie's mythical status overshadows his actual musical achievements. "The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars" is a good example of this. While the album is widely regarded as a milestone in rock music, to me it's just average glam rock, sometimes with orchestral accompaniment, featuring songs that try too hard to be edgy. The story of "Ziggy Stardust" seems more important than the music itself. Above all, Bowie’s vocals are simply too theatrical and over the top here. I realise that Ziggy Stardust's stage persona, image and provocatively presented, ambivalent sexuality were a welcome break with convention for young people of that era, offering an alternative to post-war prudery. However, when "Ziggy Stardust" was released, I was only five years old. This album has never held any significance in my personal history; other Bowie albums played a much greater role in my youth. Musically, the album simply leaves me baffled. What’s so great about it? Would it be as well known today if it had been released by other glam rockers, such as Slade or Mott the Hoople? Hardly. Once again, Bowie’s image (or more precisely, Ziggy's stage persona) outshines the music itself. Of all Bowie's overrated albums, this is perhaps the most overrated of all. Sorry folks.

I don’t think I’ve ever played a Dolly Parton album before today. Of course, I’m familiar with her hits and well aware of her significance as a songwriter and as a catalyst for many musicians, as well as the role model she has been for many female musicians of subsequent generations. And I’m aware of her tireless social commitment to the poor, to women and to marginalised groups, and of her resistance to exclusion and discrimination. Yesterday it was announced that Dolly Parton had passed away at the age of 80. Reason enough to give her music a listen and to pay tribute to a woman who will leave a gap in US society that cannot be filled.

I have little connection to country music. With very few exceptions (tending more towards country rock), the genre reflects a reality that is quite alien to my European, urban culture. Most country music does end up sounding clichéd and saccharine, white and idealised. This largely applies to Dolly Parton’s 1971 album "Coat of Many Colors" as well. But I cannot help but acknowledge her musical and vocal mastery. It’s all brilliantly done. Dolly Parton wasn’t just an icon because she was a good person, but because she was a bloody good musician. I like a few of the songs; a few are a bit too ‘country’ for my taste. But today isn’t the day to play the know-it-all critic. We’ll always love you, Dolly.

This is the perfect album for all Led Zeppelin fans, with riffs, anthems, storming drumming and 'Stairway to Heaven'. However, what is ideal for fans is problematic for me. As I wrote in my review of "Led Zeppelin II", the personified rock ’n’ roll attitude bores me to death over the course of a whole album. While it has its highlights, especially on the second side of the LP or the second half of the album, it's not great overall. If you take away the fact that it's an iconic album, I'd only give it a good, solid rating. When I want to listen to Led Zeppelin, I prefer other albums (namely "III", "Physical Graffiti").

I’ve never been a big fan of Elton John. Admittedly, he’s an extremely talented songwriter, an outstanding pianist, a good singer and a veritable hit machine who churned out catchy tunes one after the other. He’s the Mozart of pop music. But here’s the problem: I love Beethoven. I only like Mozart in small doses and without any extra frills, no extra icing please. In classical music, I can choose which interpretation I prefer; in pop music, I can’t. To cut a long story short: most of Elton John’s work gets on my nerves. Too happy, too melodic, too Hollywood. There’s hardly an album of his that I enjoy listening to. There’s only one I think is brilliant. Ironically, it’s this, the lavish "Madman Across the Water", of all things. It features rich orchestral arrangements and opulent compositions. Elton John was never more ‘prog’ than on this album. And here, the extra icing on the cake fits perfectly. A wonderful album from start to finish. And with "Tiny Dancer", it also features John’s best song. Absolutely brilliant.

Al Green’s soul music truly has soul. There may be singers who were more innovative, there may be singers who were even better, there may be better songwriters, but Al Green’s soul is authentic. His emotions come straight from the heart, without exaggeration, without artificial enhancements – soul with feeling. “Let’s Stay Together” is a fine example of how authenticity and a good song can have their full effect. The band is tight, the arrangements are funky, and Al Green’s phrasing is masterful. Sonically, the album does have a few weaknesses, but they’re hardly worth mentioning. A classic of the genre whose groove you simply can’t resist.

There is no doubt that "The Joshua Tree" was U2's finest hour, before their success turned to hubris and they sacrificed their musical evolution for mass appeal — and with it, a certain degree of mediocrity. At some point, U2 became the U2 machine, staging colossal tours. With "The Joshua Tree", they reached their musical and compositional peak. Thanks to Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois, the album is perfectly produced, transporting the Irish band to the heart of the USA, from the major cities to the endless expanses and surreal swamps of the southern states. The album opens with three of the band’s best-known and most popular songs: ‘With or Without You’, ‘I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For’ and ‘Where the Streets Have No Name’. The standard remains consistently high throughout. U2’s fascination with 'mythical America' – a romanticised vision of the USA – is portrayed through musically consistent yet astonishingly diverse tracks. From the sombre swamp sound of the southern states to straightforward rock numbers, it has it all. Although the album begins with the three singles, it is anything but top-heavy, maintaining the high standard of the first section. In fact, the tracklisting is also very well thought out, which is why "The Joshua Tree" is regarded as one of the best albums of the 1980s. Remarkably, even 40 years after its initial release, it has lost none of its lustre and still sounds utterly compelling.

I don’t think I’d ever properly engaged with Fela Kuti’s music until today. Of course, I had often seen his name in the music press, and musicians such as David Byrne, Brian Eno and Paul McCartney have spoken highly of him and I very likely may have listened to one compilation. But obviously I didn't pay much attention to it. A mistake. The blend of rock, funk and jazz that he created, driven by Tony Allen’s precise drumming, is downright mesmerising. "Zombie", released in 1976, is often cited as one of the highlights in his discography, which comprises at least 45 albums. The original album features just two tracks: the title track, "Zombie", and "Mister Follow Follow". As is not uncommon with Kuti, the lyrics are highly political. Kuti repeatedly criticised those in power and specifically the military junta in Nigeria. But even without understanding the lyrics, you can sense the anger, energy and sincerity in this music. Fela Kuti was a man with a clear musical — and evidently political — vision. I must listen to much more of his work.