Reviews by wotanmjolnir

Is this bad? No. Is this good? Also no. Is this boring and reptitive? Fuck yes. I really couldn’t tell you anything about this at all, other than it happened.

This may only be my third or fourth favourite Radiohead album, but it still stands as one of the best rock albums of all time. Great songs, great musicianship, great production - yea, it is very of its time, but that was a time which made great, great music.

I refuse to believe that people listen to this for enjoyment. Utter dogshit.

Self-satisfied, wishy-washy art-school wank.

There was a time in the mid to late nineties where Mick Hucknall’s smashed pumpkin of a head was everywhere in the UK. No matter where you looked there would be the gurning little twat, crooning his syrupy blue-eyed soul bollocks. Calm the fuck down, Mick, you aren’t Steve Winwood. You’re not even the shit on his shoes.

Horrid, super-smooth pseudo-soul with the awful farting keyboards so common at that time. It’s not one star, because Holding Back The Years and Money’s Too Tight are good tunes, but it’s awfully close. The horrible album cover really doesn’t help, either.

You’re grandma isn’t going to like it, but the Everly Brothers were just two of the chipmunks singing passable 12-bar blues.

Temu t.A.T.u tribute act.

Holy yacht-rock, Batman! It’s not particularly bad, but it is very bland, and not my bag at all.

Well, that’s the most American pronunciation of Tchaikovsky I’ve ever heard. Also, ok, we get it, you can hit a pretty good rock scream. It doesn’t need to be hit multiple times. Every. Fucking. Song.

Considering the big-name track on this album was the name of, and used in, a John Hughes film I expected something much less post-punk / new waves, so it was a pleasant surprise. Not amazing but I enjoyed it.

A T. Rex day is a good day. Proper 70s rock with heart and groove, and an incredible guitar sound. Ok, some of the track titles are clearly two words picked at random, but it all sounds great.

Is this objectively bad? No, I don’t think so, but I am certain that it doesn’t have a place as one of only 1001 albums that need to be heard before death. It’s all just a bit too clean and clinical, and I would not be surprised if there were a lot of drum triggers and some autotune used here - it’s used as an effect, so it’s on the table.

Overall it’s ok, but it does drag on, even though it’s less than 40 minutes long. I also remain unconvinced that we need a nu-metal revival now, or ever.

Sinead O’Connor was right, and treated terribly by both the music industry and the public at large, and I wish I liked this album more than I do … but it’s just a bit boring, to be honest. Her voice is amazing, and Nothing Compares 2 U is brilliant, but that’s really where it ends.

This may have been something special back in 1967, but I have my doubts even then, and it certainly isn’t now. It’s competently performed, but it just isn’t interesting.

Jesus, this is a bit of a slog. It’s not awful, but I didn’t like it, especially the last few tracks. Not going to be missed from future editions.

This is not an easy one. There are some good songs on here, but it’s a three hour album and there are a lot of mediocre songs and filler, and (let’s be honest) in a very, very long album of songs all themed around one topic it does get to be a bit of a chore. Not bad, but I’m not putting myself through this again.

This is ok in an unremarkable, inoffensive way, I guess. There are plenty worse albums here, and plenty better.

Perfectly ok alt-rock, almost noise rock album. Better than the rating, and one of the better 21st century albums in the list. Not bad.

My favourite album by my favourite band. Zep at their muscular, swaggering, bombastic, sensitive best. Maybe a couple of tracks I can live without, but the high points are just so high it doesn’t matter - this is the best album ever made, in my opinion.

Listening to this was less fun than walking through your house in the dead of night in just your stockinged feet and stepping in a pool of congealed semen, whilst knowing both that you are the only male in the house and that you haven’t spunked up in weeks.

Nearly six minutes of “artistic” feedback close this album.

This basket of bastards do not have the chops, imagination, rhythmic cohesion, or charisma to pull any of this shite off.

If you like this album I don’t like you, and I think someone should probably be checking your hard drive.

(Just to avoid any confusion, this album is entirely shit, start to finish - and there is a fucking long wait between those two points. One of the worst albums I’ve had to listen to in my life).