#149: Fiona Apple - Tidal

Emily: Even though Fiona Apple’s Tidal spawned numerous singles, including the Grammy-winning Criminal, and even though the videos for those singles received heavy MTV airplay, to classify the album as just ‘90s pop singer-songwriter stuff does not even begin to accurately describe the beautifully nuanced music and storytelling behind it. Through both her music and her lyrics, Apple’s soul is on display for all to hear. She was a teenager when she wrote most of the album, but her deeply personal lyrics are mature beyond her years. Each song is an emotional snapshot of the love and loss in a relationship gone bad. The music behind the lyrics plays into the story as well. Tidal takes on a variety of styles beyond mere acoustic pop; jazz, soul, and blues are clear influences on the album’s haunting yet beautiful musical arrangements. This is definitely not your typical singer-songwriter fodder, but every element works beautifully together – an emotional display definitely deserving of its recognition, praise, and success.

Favorite Tracks: Criminal; Sleep to Dream; The Child is Gone

Zack: I expected this album to be overall enjoyable but nothing special. I thought it would probably be a typical poppy performance with mostly upbeat songs, 1-2 haunting melodies, and maybe a heartfelt song somewhere in the mix. Apparently, I drastically underestimated the musical ability of Ms. Apple. Because, well damn, homegirl can bring it. Most of the melodies are haunting and every single song is heartfelt. While I expected more of a jazzed up Katy Perry with some indie cred, I got something much more akin to a Jeff Buckley or Kate Bush. It was, in a word, tantalizing. I’m not even completely sure that Criminal was the high point. I…I…I can’t even pick out a high point. The entire album fluctuated from very good to very, very good with several songs bordering on brilliant. Bravo, Ms. Apple. Bravo. Oh, and call me?

Favorite Tracks: Sleep to Dream; The Child Is Gone; Criminal

#148: Bee Gees - Odessa (1968)

Emily: Unlike Zack, I was actually really excited to listen to the Bee Gees. Saturday Night Fever is one of my favorite movies, and their soundtrack is a big part of that. So many of those songs are classics – Stayin’ Alive, Night Fever, You Should Be Dancing, and so on and so forth. Yes, that album and movie are very disco and very dated, but I love them anyway. I was expecting something similar before I listened to Odessa. Unfortunately, that’s not what I got. I made the mistake of not looking at the date of the album before I listened to it. While I’m a fan of the Bee Gees circa 1977, Odessa hails from 1969 – way before the disco era and the sound that created my interest in the band. This album is less on the dance side, leaning more towards soft-rock ballads, instrumentals, and a bit of country influence. With my expectations as they were, I was underwhelmed by Odessa. That’s not to say it was a bad album; there’s some beauty in its understatement, especially with the instrumentals. But if you’re expecting John Travolta disco swagger, skip ahead to the Bee Gees of 1977.

Favorite Tracks: Whisper Whisper; Black Diamond; Never Say Never Again

Zack: If gambling were legal in our country, and if I could find a suckerrrrrrrr….I mean investor willing to place a prop wager against me on the matter, I would put a hefty sum on this being the most forgettable album of albums 101-200. I have already forgotten more of it than I did the last winner, uhhhhh. Never mind. Anyway, this is a double album, which makes it doubley as shrug-worthy. I can’t imagine any mood or activity that I could possibly be doing where I would want Odessa to be the soundtrack. Nothing. Even with metal, albums, I would want that playing while I fought a grizzle bear in the Octagon or something. But this? I just don’t want to hear it. Not because it’s bad, mind you. Because it elicits absolutely no response from me. If I’m taking the time to listen to something, I want to at least feel like I am invested in the music itself. If an album is bad, I have a powerful emotional response because I invested my time and I’m disappointed it was bad. The opposite is true for a good album. But with Odessa all I could muster was a “1 hour and 4 minutes of my life spent listening to that huh? Oh well.” And honestly, I expected a little more.

Favorite Tracks: Seven Seas Symphony; Marley Purt Driver; Suddenly

#147: Sinéad O'Connor - I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got (1990)

Zack: I listened to this album in its entirety while preparing a stew. And for some reason, it just worked. Seriously, this is really good cooking music. It’s nice and relaxed with beautiful vocals. It’s just a very calming thing to play while you brown some beef and transfer it to a slow cooker. I would be willing to wager that if one Gordan Ramsey listened to more Sinéad O'Connor while he cooked/hosted a game show about cooking, a lot less people would tune in every week. Despite what some of you may view as my divided attention, I did get a pretty close listen. For instance, I caught to subtle hint at police brutality towards African Americans in London in the song Black Boys on Mopeds. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that subtle. Anyway, it was nice to make such a connection with an album that’s just a little bit older than I am. Even today it still is just as lovely and passionate.

Favorite Tracks: Feel So Different; Nothing Compares 2 U; Black Boys on Mopeds

Emily: Sinead O’Connor is one badass Irish bitch. She’s bald, she refused to play a concert when the venue played the national anthem, and she ripped up a picture of Pope John Paul II on SNL. She even had the nerve to take a Prince funk song and turn it into a beautifully stripped-down love song. Okay, maybe that last one isn’t so badass, but it’s what skyrocketed Sinead O’Connor to all of her badassery. I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got is O’Connor’s breakthrough album, and pretty much the only one that was a hit (ripping up the Pope didn’t really serve her career too well in the long run). It’s easy to see why though: from heartbreakingly honest ballads to more upbeat alt-pop tracks, O’Connor’s vocals shine on every song.

Favorite Tracks: Nothing Compares 2 U; I Am Stretched on Your Grave; The Last Day of Our Acquaintance

#146: Klaxons - Myths of the Near Future (2007)

Zack: “When you're less a band and more a sonic Socratic method wrapped in hard-driving guitars and anthemic melodies, the gulf is embraced, and the void is ultimately surfed.” That is a quote from Klaxons home page. It is also a perfect representation of how torn I am over them. On one hand, ¾ of their album was really good and even, dare I say it, innovative. On the other hand, who describes themselves as a “sonic Socratic method?” As someone who has read a pretty solid amount of Plato, let me be the first here to say no. N. O. No. But, then again, the only reason I saw that quote was because I was on their website surfing for tour dates because I enjoyed most of their album (with a few songs that fell into the meh range pretty squarely). And that’s after two close listens, so I’ve had some time to evaluate. They’re a little different. They have a certain Talking Heads vibe to them, but more modern. I’d venture to guess that the Flaming Lips may be the closest comparison I can come up with, but even them the lack of synthesizers and spacieness through that off. One thing is for sure, though. They don’t sound like the Socratic method.

Favorite Tracks: Gravity’s Rainbow; Two Receivers; Totem on the Timeline

Emily: Zack and I listened to this album together a few weeks back, but neither of us actually wrote anything until now because we got caught up in an epic game of Text Twist. Seriously, it lasted for like two hours, and by the time we lost it was 2:30 AM and we had lost all semblance of writing ability and even what we thought of the album. Fast forward to today, and I finally had time to revisit Klaxons without getting sucked into another endless game. Then fast forward to a hipster warehouse party in the future, and you’ll get a pretty good idea of what Myths of the Near Future is all about. It’s rhythmic, fun, and catchy, perfect for dancing, but it has a futuristic vibe going on as well. Not something you’d find at a typical club, but I can definitely see hipsters grooving to this…or me in my living room. Either way, if the Klaxons are the future of dance music, than fast-forward me to that future.

Favorite Tracks: Golden Skans; Two Receivers; Gravity’s Rainbow

#145: System of a Down - System of a Down (1998)

Emily: System of a Down is an interesting band. On the one hand, they’re metal as metal can be – loud, fast, and ear-splitting. But on the other, they’re surprisingly listenable and mainstream. Songs like Chop Suey (not on this album, but worth mentioning) have become hits while playing with the fast, hyper-guitar driven sounds of their genre. The band’s self-titled first album shows early glimpses of this balance. To me it was kind of a crossover between metal and ‘70s punk. Most songs are short, fast bursts of guitar and screams – but not oh-my-god-I’m-scared screaming like in most other nu-metal. It actually reminded me of a metaled-up version of the Dead Kennedys, especially considering Serj Tankian’s vocals. I have no idea if that’s an accurate interpretation, but whatever. System of a Down is at the top of their genre for a reason – they take music that has become a cliché of shock value, and at least try to do something different with it.

Favorite Tracks: Spiders; Mind; Suggestions

Zack: I genuinely kind of like System of a Down, and am not embarrassed by it at all (I can’t say the same about my affection for Korn, but that’s a matter for another post). Mesmerize, Hypnotize, and Toxicity are three justifiably good albums (in that order of course). But I’d never listened to SOAD’s debut album and wasn’t really sure what to expect. Well, it’s really just more of the same as far as that distinctive System sound. My favorite part of SOAD’s style? Easily how quickly the vocals fly in range. In one second, it’ll be a Mickey Mouse-esque squeek. The next will be a booming screech of pure rage. It’s so hard to keep up but it gets me amped regardless.

Favorite Tracks: Mind; Spiders; P.L.U.C.K.

#144: Electric Light Orchestra - Out of the Blue (1977)

Zack: I’ll be honest: I listened to this album like 3 weeks ago. I just didn’t have anything to write, so I threw it on the backburner and used finals and papers as an excuse not to set aside 10 minutes to write a little blurb about it. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Emily has been silently judging my laziness (she listened to it about a week ago but wrote her review promptly; just like a business school kid to do something as if there’s a deadline).But luckily for all of you, inspiration hit me in the form of an article on one of my favorite websites of all time: Cracked. It pointed out one of the songs on the random 4-song concept mini-album that appears in the middle as something that just randomly makes him happy. I couldn’t agree more. I don’t know why or how, but this album just makes you happy. I wouldn’t say it’s particularly upbeat or is just so good that it restores your faith that humans can produce good music every once in a while. It just naturally uplifts. Like it’s the sound of puppies cocking their heads slightly to the right and then running up to sit on your lap and lick your face. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Favorite Tracks: Mr. Blue Sky; Turn to Stone; Believe Me Now 

Emily: Imagine a laser light show perfectly coordinated to booming classical music. Like Trans-Siberian Orchestra, or something like that. It’s ridiculous and over the top, but something you absolutely need to see at least once. That’s what I thought I was getting before I listened to Electric Light Orchestra. To an extent, that’s what I got. Out of the Blue definitely wasn’t classical and I don’t really think it would coordinate well with lasers, but the sentiment is there. Like a laser light show, it’s high-concept, over-the-top, and just short of ridiculous. There’s even a mini-opus in the middle called Concerto for a Rainy Day that’s about (you guessed it!) a rainy day. That being said, I thoroughly enjoyed Out of the Blue. Yes, it’s cheesy, but isn’t most pop music? The songs are melodic and hummable, much more pop-oriented than I expected them to be. It’s not the greatest album ever by any stretch, but it’s fun – definitely deserving at least one listen (just like that laser light show).

Favorite Tracks: Turn to Stone; Mr. Blue Sky; Wild West Hero

#143: Willie Nelson - Stardust (1978)

Emily: I have definitely been pleasantly surprised by most of the country we’ve listened to so far, and Willie Nelson’s Stardust thankfully continues that trend. Well, Stardust isn’t exactly a country album, so maybe it doesn’t count. You see, this album goes against all the twangy, repetitive, all-American country tropes that distinguish the genre and turn me away from it. What Willie gives us in their place are a collection of understated, melodic pop standards with just a hint of country on the side. This album is definitely more influenced by folk, jazz, and pop than traditional country (or, as the genre was becoming at the time, “outlaw country”). The arrangements are simple, allowing the classic songwriting and musicianship to shine through. The result is a winning tribute to the Great American Songbook, a feat that many have attempted but few have accomplished. Who knew that winner could be a counterculture country star?

Favorite Tracks: Georgia on My Mind; Moonlight in Vermont; On the Sunny Side of the Street

Zack: Those of you who have been following us for a while may have noticed that we tend to avoid country albums. There are two reasons for that. One is that neither of us are recreational country users and so we try to limit our consumption. The other is that the albums for that particular genre are really hard to get. In total, I have about five (depending on where you draw the distinction between country and folk). This is the fourth album that I categorize in that genre (the fifth is another Johnny Cash one, but since we’re trying to space out when we repeat artists that won’t get its turn for a while). Thankfully, the creation of Spotify and its constant expansion has opened the door for more, so we’ll probably start playing catch-up in the upcoming months. Which, I should add, will also incorporate winter break! If you look back, you can see a big spike in our productivity from mid-December to mid-January. That’s why. So once we clear finals week (which is going to be hell on this blog and us in general, mind you), expect us to update with much more consistency. Now what was I doing? Oh yeah! Reviewing an album. Although I am not, in my own words a “recreational country user,” I have to admit that we’re 3-4 on country albums. Those may not be Dirk numbers, but they are a hell of a lot better than my man Iggy’s. I have to respect that. Although I will point out that this is far from a traditional country album. Stardust is made up of ten covers of old pop hits. Most are from the ‘20s or ‘30s, and only one was younger than 30 years old when Willie put his touch on them. He doesn’t perform them in a directly country way either. There’s still a lot of pop left, along with some jazz. What Willie Nelson really manages to do is reinvigorate the songs. He makes them relevant to generation who may not have grown up on them. He took timeless hits and added a new coat of varnish, basically. In doing so, his greatest asset is his ability to narrate. Each song is treated more like its own story than as just an arrangement of notes. It’s this storytelling that allows Willie Nelson to construct an album that bridges not only eras and genres, but also fanbases. Stardust is the kind of album that anyone, whether they be the twangiest country redneck or the biggest Belieber, will instantly be infatuated with.

Favorite Tracks: Georgia on My Mind; September Song; Blue Skies

#142: TLC - CrazySexyCool (1994)

Zack: One of the hardest things about writing this blog is avoiding preconceived notions. We try to go into every album with an open mind, but sometimes it’s just hard not to look a little extra hard for evidence of your opinions. I think that in small portions, this is totally acceptable. It’s when we start mentally writing our entries before we even hit play that we run into trouble. I must confess, I was nearly guilty of that hear. I had expected to notice the predominant trait of CrazySexyCool was how it sounded like a predecessor to certain modern female vocal groups like Destiny’s Child or Pussycat Dolls. Okay, more like the former admittedly. But it was only like two songs in that I forced myself to re-evaluate and think about a different approach. Why, you ask? Because this album is so sensual that it should come with a sex talk for an intro. This underlining theme reaches a crescendo in Red Light Special. That song is so sexy that there are three versions of the music video, named sexy, sexier, and sexiest. Plus there’s the whole part about asking her gentleman caller to “take the southern route.” The album plays sort of a cross between Prince, Marvin Gaye, Lil Kim, and Simone de Beauvoir. Yeah, I just went existentialist on your ass. What of it? I should probably point out that I was equally as impressed with TLC’s musical talents as their sexual liberation. But that doesn’t make for anywhere near as erotic a post.

Favorite Tracks: Red Light Special; Waterfalls; Creep

Emily: Like any fan of ‘90s pop culture and Vh1 musical countdown shows, I know a bit about TLC. Like that Left-Eye burned her ex-boyfriend’s house down, and later died in a car accident. Or that Waterfalls is considered one of the greatest songs of the ‘90s, one of the greatest songs by a female group, and generally one of the greatest R&B songs ever. What I didn’t know, however, was just how good the album from which Waterfalls came was. Now that I’ve listened to CrazySexyCool in its entirety, I can tell you that it’s definitely crazy, sexy, and cool – especially the sexy part. Even though TLC is known for being an R&B/rap group, this album falls more on the side of R&B and classic soul. Vocals from the three ladies are soulful, sassy, and seductive, with sometimes-explicit lyrics that let their men know exactly what they want. Waterfalls, the seminal favorite, is a cool-yet-cautionary tale that will get stuck in your head as soon as you hear it – but its difference from other catchy songs is that you’ll want it to stay there. Although the pop culture tidbits that surround TLC’s legacy are compelling, to say the least, they’re nothing when compared to the music – maybe Vh1 should take another listen.

Favorite Tracks: Waterfalls; Red Light Special; Switch

#141: Spacemen 3 - Playing With Fire (1989)

Zack: I don’t need to listen to Kevin Federline’s album to know that this is the best Playing with Fire album. That’s right. Apparently Britney’s ex-parasite put out an album and it was called Playing With Fire. I assume it’s either a reference to the difficulty he has urinating or his amateur arson (sort of explains Britney’s old bald look, providing it wasn’t absolutely clear to everyone that she shaved it off herself). This has been your weekly random factoid brought to you by Zack. Spacemen 3 were kind of like proto-Flaming Lips. They were spacey and psychedelic and sort of hit-or-miss. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that they put on a killer show back in the day too.  Maybe with some giant inflatable rocket ships or something. I don’t know. Despite what you may think by my semi-confusing description thus far, Playing with Fire was sort of stripped down. The Spacemen 3 version, mind you. They really brought a lot out of some very simple ingredients. Nowhere is that more clear, and yet somewhat hypocritical, than their 11-minute-long supersong, Suicide. The first 6 minutes or so were all a mashing of droning guitar effects that sounded really cool. Then a human voice starts to come in…I think. It may just be the guitar effects but I think it’s a voice. And that’s it. I just gave you the complete description of that 11 minute song. But it still sounded cool! I know; weird. It’s kind of a hard album to explain so if any of what I said grabbed your attention, you’re better served just picking the album up and listening for yourself.

Favorite Tracks: Revolution; So Hot; Suicide 

Emily: Today, we have for your reading pleasure a review of some ‘80s Norwegian space rock. Oh, you’ve never heard it before? You don’t really want to either? That’s too bad, because as weird of a combination as it sounds, Spacemen 3’s Playing with Fire is surprisingly good. Space rock is pretty loosely defined (even by Wikipedia standards), but it’s related to psychedelic, experimental, and electronic music. All of those influences are clear on Playing with Fire. It’s a cool mix of ambiance, distortion, and other electronic effects. I know I usually say albums like this fade into the background, but this one didn’t, which put it a cut above the rest. What’s more is that, even though it was recorded in 1989, Spacemen 3 sounds super modern. One song in particular, Revolution, had an artsy noise-rock sound that would fit right in at some indie rock club today. Though I’m fairly sure most of you still aren’t apt to explore Spacemen 3, or other Norwegian space rock, for that matter, I hope you check out a song or two. Nothing wrong with expanding your musical (and geographic…sort of) horizons a bit.

Favorite Tracks: Revolution; How Does It Feel?; Suicide

#140: The Dandy Warhols - ...The Dandy Warhols Come Down (1997)

Emily: One word came to mind as I listened to the Dandy Warhols: nondescript. Just ask Zack. I said it so many times in the first 10 minutes of the album that he banned me from using it for the following 55 minutes. I couldn't help it; there was nothing I could latch onto. The entire album was enjoyable to listen to and I liked it well enough, but it kind of fell into the background. The best way to describe it is that it sounds like a good opening act - you didn't pay to see the band, but you like it well enough as it gets you excited for the main show. You tell yourself that you'll look them up online after the show, but you never actually do it. Yeah, the Dandy Warhols are kind of like that. Kind of cool, kind of interesting, but just kind of uninspiring.
Favorite Tracks: Not If You Were the Last Junkie on Earth; I Love You; Cool as Kim Deal

Zack: I read on Wikipedia that the Dandy Warhols formed to make "needed music to drink to." I can totally appreciate that sentiment. They make the kind of music you might hear in the basement of a guy who wears a lot of flannel as you maneuver around trying not to spill precious Natty from your red solo cup. Well, probably not Natty. If that's what you're drinking, it's probably more DMB and LMFAO and other acronyms. But I feel like they aren't quite flannely enough to warrant Pabst. And I can't see them as a Rolling Rock band either. Plus they're definitely not mainstream enough for Budweiser, Coors, or Miller. This is a tough one. Heineken maybe? Yeah, I think that's probably it. Now that that's out of the way, we can move on to the more important stuff. Like how bitchin' of a name "Dandy Warhols" is. Seriously, it's like the greatest band name ever. It is everything you could ever want in nomenclature. There's a pop culture reference, a pun, romance, action, and even some intrigue. It's so perfect. The album title, on the other hand, leaves much to be desired. They're coming down, but from what? Is this them propelling down from the highest peak of greatness, signifying that they have officially sold out and will never be as "real" as they were back in the good old days? Or is this them moving away from the ledge and realizing that there are some fans out there who appreciate them and that they shouldn't commit musical suicide by jumping down into the dark realms that Hanson resides (shout-out to Emily for knowing off the top of her head that Hanson's MMMBop was released the same year as this album)? It's so...nondescript. Or maybe it's just a cliff-hanger. Who knows? 

Favorite Tracks: Not if You Were the Last Junkie on Earth; Good Morning; Cool as Kim Deal

#139: Duran Duran - Rio (1982)

Emily: New Wave is proving to be a very interesting genre. It seemed fairly straightforward at the outset: lots of synthesizer, echoing vocals, some ambient elements, and British accents. Although every New Wave album we’ve listened to includes these elements to some extent, I’m really surprised by how many variations on the genre exist. Take Duran Duran, for example. They come to the New Wave scene a little later than others, but with Rio, their first international hit album, the band showcases a unique take on the genre. This album is definitely the poppiest of the new wave we’ve listened to so far. It uses familiar pop sounds and techniques, like the chorus of do-do-dos in the hit song Hungry Like the Wolf, but mixes up the genre with the synthesizer and vocal style of new wave. The result is catchy, fun, and 100% danceable. Eighties pop music might get a bad rap sometimes, but Duran Duran defies that stereotype with their nod to New Wave.

Favorite Tracks: Hungry Like the Wolf; Rio; New Religion

Zack: Ah Duran Duran. Did you know that they’re one of Zapp Brannigan’s favorite bands? Well they are. And that’s the type of useless knowledge that I possess and routinely spout for no apparent raisin. It makes no science. I really hope at least some of you got those jokes. Anywho, I was really taken aback by Rio. It was much much much better than I expected. As has been the case with all the 80s Synth stuff, I thought it could go either way. Well it went only one way, and that was full force, deep penetration into the inner awesome region of your eardrums. Rio embraces a subtlety that is wholly uncharacteristic for the infamously gaudy era in which it was made. It was like a less mopey Cure album. I had absolutely no trouble embracing that. I have a feeling that albums like this will make it so, even 1000 years in the future, there will be only one 80s in the hearts and minds of the good Earthican people. AND I’M HUNGRY LIKE THE WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!!
Favorite Tracks: The Chauffer; Rio; Hungry Like the Wolf

#138: A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory (1991)

Zack: From now on, November 4th shall be known as the Easter of the blog. After a month, we have risen from the dead. Hopefully, this intolerable lapse of time will not happen again. Hopefully. Anyways, in my long and illustrious hip-hop fandom career, I have never really listened to A Tribe Called Quest. Not sure how that has happened, or rather how it hasn't. But I do know that it's important to say the entirety of A Tribe Called Quest. A Pimp Named Slickback has made that very clear. It's definitely some very deep hip-hop that will probably take me several listens to truly unlock. But my cursory experience has left me with a few impressions that I will dutifully provide in list form.
1) They credit Afrika Bambaataa several times throughout the album, but they rely mostly on natural instrumentation, rather than the advanced electronic beats of the Zulu Nation.
2) They say that Straight Outta Compton by N.W.A. is a major influence, but I've listened to that album before and they sound nothing alike.
3) Busta Rhymes used to be able to KILL it. Like, I mean, totally rip it apart.
4) Seriously, why isn't Eric B. and Rakim's Paid in Full on here? I know I seem to bring this up every time we listen to a hip-hop album but I think it's especially poignant here. I mean, you want to talk about heavy jazz influences and diabolical lyrical skills? The Low End Theory is a great album and one that definitely deserves a place, but Paid in Full is similar stylistically and just 1 step better in every possible way. This infuriates me to no end and I can guarantee you will hear about this whenever we review the next hip-hop album.
But yeah. The Low End Theory is really good. It makes me wish that they were still relevant today. But then again I like Q-Tip as a producer and as that guy who showed up on a Chappelle Show skit that one time. And I love his name. Q-Tip. Lolz.
Favorite Tracks: Vibes and Stuff; Excursions; Scenario

Emily: A few weeks ago, a documentary about A Tribe Called Quest was playing at an independent movie theater around the corner from where I work. A few of my coworkers were going, and one invited me along just to be polite - though, in his words, I'm "probably not a fan of A Tribe Called Quest anyway." Well, I don't remember the exact wording, but that captures the sentiment pretty well. He thought there was no way I could have even heard of A Tribe Called Quest, let alone be a fan of them. At the time of this conversation, though he was rather presumptuous, he was pretty much right. Now, though, I'm definitely intrigued by A Tribe Called Quest. The Low End Theory mixes old-school hip-hop with some jazzy instrumentation. The bass was bumpin' on many tracks - not in a gangsta-rap-and-car-hydraulics kind of way, but rather more like a thumping-upright-bass-in-a-jazz-club way. Combined with masterful lyrics (like the repetition of provocative, poignant, and often hilarious questions in What?), The Low End Theory is unique and just plain cool - an enjoyable step in my evolution into hip-hop appreciation.
Favorite Tracks: Scenario; What?; Excursions

#137: The Jesus and Mary Chain - Psychocandy (1985)

Zack: It’s funny how some albums predate all the comparisons that I, as a listener, would like to make. Only a few tracks in to Psychocandy, I thought I had heard hints of Nirvana. I opened up Wikipedia and saw that it was released in 1985, a healthy six years before Nevermind. My next thought was Pixies. After all, they were a huge influence on Nirvana and there were a few songs that captured the genre-merging sound that was Doolittle. But Pixies first album (Surfer Rosa) wasn’t until 1988. Later on, I thought I heard traces of Sonic Youth. Finally, I had struck gold! Sonic Youth released their first album in 1983, two whole years before Psychocandy. But Sonic Youth’s first album of any real merit is Evol, which didn’t come out until 1986. It turned out all I had found was the Pyrite, so I was forced to admit that I had made a fundamental mistake. I had spent so much time searching for what bands and musicians had influenced Jesus and the Mary Chain, but the reality was the opposite. Psychocandy wasn’t the influenced, it was the influencer. Without me being prepared at all, I was listening to a pivotal moment in music that would go on to help shape the sounds that Sonic Youth and Pixies and Nirvana were crafting. Psychocandy, as it turned out, was a pioneer in music that has gone wildly unappreciated. Well, no more. Psychocandy was an amazing album. It had everything you could want from something produced in the 80s and none of the egregiously bad hair. It was catchy and fun but at the same time deep and thoughtful. It took everything its predecessors had given it and then build upon that foundation into what would become the future of the music industry. It was and always will be nothing short of a really good album.

Favorite Tracks: Cut Dead; Something’s Wrong; Inside Me

Emily: One flaw I’ve found with doing this list out of order is that it’s sometimes difficult to tell the timeline of events. Did one band pioneer a sound, or did they copy it from somewhere else? Was it a trend or a shot in the dark? Where is the originality, and where is the influence? The Jesus and Mary Chain definitely indicate this problem. I’m a fan of post-punk, but Psychocandy sounded like something I’ve heard before. The melodic noise-pop sound showed up with Sonic Youth and others, and the monotone delivery of lyrics is a hallmark of the post-punk genre. Since I’ve heard these elements before, I’m predisposed to think that The Jesus and Mary Chain, although very good, just aren’t all that original. Maybe I’m wrong though. Only time – and more list completion – will tell.

Favorite Tracks: The Living End; Cut Dead; Taste the Floor

#136: The Police - Reggatta de Blanc (1979)

Emily: First, to our loyal readers, I must apologize for the egregiously long delay between posts. Second, to our new/random readers, welcome to our 136th album review! I hope you take the time to go back and read the other 135. Or just a couple, that’s cool too. Anyway, let’s talk about Reggatta de Blanc. It’s a fake French translation that’s supposed to mean “white reggae,” which actually sums up the album pretty well. It’s fake reggae by three British white dudes. Now, that could be disastrous in the wrong musical hands, but Sting and Co. handle it rather well. They infuse the new wave, rock, and post-punk sounds of the era with instrumental breakdowns (like the whole title track) and a little island flavor. It’s a surprisingly good combo, especially in the album’s best-known track, Message in a Bottle. The song is a bit more rock than the rest of the album, but the reggae influence is clear yet subtle – perhaps the best example of “reggatta de blanc.”

Favorite Tracks: Message in a Bottle; On Any Other Day; Bring on the Night

Zack: Let me start off my review of The Police by saying that I went through a phase in the summer of 2010 where I think I listened to Roxanne like 150 times over a weekend. I have no idea why. But I do know that there is a somewhat simplistic drinking game devoted to the songs where everyone divides into teams, one designated “Team Roxanne” and the other “Team Put on the Red Light.” Whenever you hear the lyrics that correspond to your team name, you drink. Those of you who know how the song ends will probably realize how suicidal this is. And also why I’m arranging a game this weekend. Anyway, Reggatta de Blanc is not the album with Roxanne, which is tragic. But it is the album with Message in a Bottle, which is awesome. Reggatta de Blanc is a very true Police album. It encapsulates the merger of reggae with more traditional rock compositions that they did so well. I understand that later Police albums, most notably Synchronicity, move on from this sound in favor of something a little bit more polished and New Wavey. Well I don’t know how that will turn out, but this was pretty good. They struck the perfect compromise between the fun of reggae and the jammability of some good ol’ fashioned rock and/or roll. There was a consistency throughout the album that never touched upon repetitive or boring. All in all, I would say that the album easily lived up to the lofty expectations that my Roxanne phase instilled in me.

Favorite Tracks: Bring on the Night; Message in a Bottle; No Time This Time 

#135: Pet Shop Boys - Actually (1987)

Emily: It kind of surprised me to learn that Pet Shop Boys are one of the most commercially successful bands on this list. I mean, I had heard of them in passing but I don't think I had heard one of their songs until today. Well, once you add the caveat of them being one of the most successful bands in Britain, not knowing them here in the US makes a bit more sense. Once I listened to Actually, that claim definitely made sense. Although it's a new wave/electronic album, it's pop through and through. With lyrics ranging from sappy to nonsensical (a whole song about shopping, and another about loving someone because they pay your rent) mixed in with bouncy synth beats, it has teenage adoration written all over it. There's not much substance there, but it's definitely a good time. Just try to listen to One More Chance without busting out into an impromptu dance party. I bet you can't.
Favorite Tracks: One More Chance; It's a Sin; I Want to Wake Up

Zack: I had no idea what to expect coming into this album. It seems that the new wave/electronic/synthpop albums we’ve done were all schitzophrenic. I get that a good feature is ecstatic highs and unbearable lows, materialized through various tempos and pitches and whatnot, but sometimes it seems like an album is just trying to be a collection of unbearable lows. I was very pleasantly surprised to discover that Pet Shop Boys were all about making dynamic music that, frankly, wasn’t terrible. And there was singing! Now I’m not saying vocals are a necessity if you’re trying to make a great classic album. But unless you’re the guy who fronts The Right Coast, it can’t really hurt. I don’t know if I’ll ever go back and relisten to this album like I’ve done with a great deal of what we’ve gone through. But there are certainly a few songs that I have every intention of adding to my rotation. Foremost of them is the intro track, One More Chance. The drum roll and keyboard intro may only last like 5 seconds, but it’s a badass 5 seconds. As soon as that happened, I knew I was at least investing my full attention to at least this first song. And then, a dude who sounds like the British version of John McCrea (the lead singer of Cake). The lyrics aren’t necessarily mind-blowing, but they work with the beat perfectly. I think that’s probably what is the most impressive part about Actually. How flawlessly everything melds together to just form music. It’s hard to separate and analyze it because it was just music. And it was definitely enjoyable.

Favorite Tracks: One More Chance; It’s a Sin; Hit Music

#134: The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses (1989)

Zack: I didn’t expect this album to sound so…British. I mean, yeah I knew it was a bunch of Brits playing, but it just sounded like an American stereotype of a British person playing music. You know, Big Ben, bad teeth, jolly good and whatnot. This album was so British it spells color with a “u.” I probably shouldn’t have been surprised. The rampant UK-centrism displayed by the list has been well discussed and, if memory serves, well documented. If not, then I’m documenting it here. This list is rampantly UK-centric. Happy Mondays, Supergrass, and The Verve each have two albums. Each! Can anyone even name two songs by any of those bands? Let’s see…Bittersweet Symphony and…and….uh….. Yeah, I thought so. But anyway, back to The Stoune Roses (note: I would have done that with Roses but it would have just made Rouses which is an actual word, unlike that fake Britishy word). It was certainly good. I like it enough and I will probably relisten in the near future. I’ve even listened to a few of the tracks I especially liked again already. But it sort of felt like a simple mash-up of British Invasion along with the soon-to-be created Britpop. Apparently, that’s called Madchester, a reflection of how much the British love their clever wordplay. And it’s pretty cool, I guess. Once I understood how Britishy it was, I immediately put on a kettle to make some English Breakfast tea, assuming that it would be necessary to truly unlock the layers of awesomeness that I had been led to believe was this album. I didn’t feel like it enhanced it all that much. Maybe it’s because drinking English breakfast tea while listening to a Britishy album is a superficial enhancement and does not alter the music or the mood you are in while listening to it in any way. Or maybe it’s because there wasn’t anything to really unlock. It is what it is. And that is a heaping plate of audial fish and chips.

Favorite Tracks: Made of Stone; I Am the Resurrection; She Bangs the Drums

Emily: I thought I was really going to love The Stone Roses. The album came highly recommended from more than one musical authority. Okay, just from a couple friends whose musical tastes I admire. And, of course, from Wikipedia, an ever-important guide on our musical mission. The Stone Roses were critically acclaimed pretty much right from the start, with some critics even calling their self-titled debut “the greatest British album of all time.” Now, there’s no way I could ever agree with that statement, but praise that high certainly gave me some high hopes. Unfortunately, I was disappointed. That’s not to say it’s not a good album. It definitely is, and I enjoyed listening to it. However, I kept waiting for the music to blow me away with fantasticness, and that just didn’t happen. It was much more understated and nuanced than I expected, so maybe the supposed greatness of The Stone Roses just doesn’t come through upon one listen. Maybe I bought too much into the hype, but I enjoyed the music enough to give it another shot – and perhaps then I’ll find greatness.

Favorite Tracks: She Bangs the Drums; Bye Bye Badman; Made of Stone

#133: Lou Reed - Berlin (1973)

Emily: Usually I like to do a little research on the albums we listen to as we’re listening. However, my Internet was down for a while, so I didn’t get to do that with Lou Reed – and I’m glad it worked out that way. You see, Berlin is a concept album about a doomed relationship, drugs, and depression. Did I know that before I pressed play? Of course not. All I knew was that Lou Reed was the frontman of the Velvet Underground, and that Zack liked the album. As I listened, I picked up on Reed’s lyricism and storytelling. It’s a mix of upbeat and melancholy in both the music and lyrics. With all its ups and downs, I saw it as a reflection of life, which could’ve been way off the mark. Now that I’ve read a little bit about the album, however, I think Lou Reed and I were on the same page. Berlin takes on a universal idea and brings it to a personal level, telling the story of one family that could ring true to almost anyone.

Favorite Tracks: Caroline Says II; How Do You Think It Feels; Men of Good Fortune

Zack: When Berlin originally was released, it received almost universal criticism. Now, it’s universal acclaim. The truth is somewhere in between. It’s a brilliant concept (a star-crossed couple much like Romeo and Juliet who are doomed by drugs and depression rather than the less fun type of family feud and coma-inducing elixirs or as I call them, comixers) that is executed with reasonable success. Despite a sort of high-brow feel that continues the Shakespeare-reminiscent vibe, there is nothing particularly extraordinary about the instrumentation or material that sticks out upon a cursory listen. Usually, with an album such as this, I usually get the feeling that multiple listens are required to truly appreciate what’s going on. I didn’t get that feeling here. I pretty much understood what was going on and I liked it enough. Still, I’m not about to anoint it as a masterpiece or anything. As previously mentioned, the strongest thing Berlin has going for it is its conceptual design. It tells a beautiful story. It just tells it is a sort of conventional way, which wasn’t really what I was expecting from Lou Reed. 

Favorite Tracks: Sad Song; How Do You Think It Feels; The Kids

#132: Penguin Cafe Orchestra - Music from the Penguin Cafe (1976)

Zack: Listening to this album brought back horrible repressed memories from every time I've ever been put on hold ever in my life. Right there, I've probably successfully conveyed an exact description of the sound and feel to their music. And yet, I will continue to digress. We've talked plenty of times about music that seems to be designed for ambiance. That may mean a metal album that should be played whenever you're doing something intense and preferably violent or technoey stuff whenever you're flying through a virtual world or hacking or whatever it is you techie kids are doing nowadays. Music From the Penguin Cafe is, at its heart, an ambient album. It accepts that. It never tries to hide under a facade. And while its somewhat admirable that it embraces its identity, that doesn't mean it should be celebrated for anything other than mediocrity. It was adequate ambiance at best, at least compared to my all-time favorite ambient album, Moon Safari by Air. Although, the cover is pretty spiffy. It just kind of cruises along under the same pseudo folk-jazz appeal while the listener is forced to occasionally remember that there is music on. Finally, does anyone else find it weird that I've come so far as to be able to recognize the differences between good, middling, and bad ambiance? Because it's definitely weirding me out.
Favorite Tracks: The Sound of Someone You Love Going Away and It Doesn't Matter; Zopf; Chartered Flight

Emily: Just 2 albums after our last Brian Eno album, we come to yet another. Eno didn't play on the album himself, but he was the executive producer and released it on his experimental record label, Obscure. Now I know the label name has nothing to do with the content of the albums it releases, but obscure just sounds like a good way to describe Music from the Penguin Cafe. It's experimental ambient jazz folk, a mouthful of genres that blend together into 45 minutes and five instrumental songs. Nothing really stands out, but the music blended pleasantly into the background of our Saturday evening at home. Will I visit the Penguin Cafe again? Probably not, but it was a nice visit.
Favorite Tracks: Zopf; The Sound of Someone You Love Going Away and It Doesn't Matter; Chartered Flight

#131: The Pogues - Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash (1985)

Emily: Rum, sodomy, and the lash. Sounds like your average day on a pirate ship. Or in the Navy, according to Winston Churchill. Yep, that's where The Pogues got the name for their album - a Winston Churchill quote. Shouldn't be much of a surprise actually. Despite their Irish brogues and genre classification under Celtic rock, the band is actually a bunch of Brits playing folk punk. Now that I think about it, folk punk is kind of a weird contradiction too, but in this case it works. The Pogues take traditional Celtic folk music, and add a pub-punk flavor to it. Some songs are melancholy and wistful (like folk), while others are more punk and full of bravado.  Not many albums can successfully combine these disparate sounds, let alone by using an accordion and tin whistle amongst their instruments, but The Pogues definitely make it work.
Favorite Tracks: The Band Played Waltzing Matilda; A Pair of Brown Eyes; Wild Cats of Kilkenny

Zack: I'm a little offended by the title of this album. The Pogues want to masquerade like a Celtic rock band, but they drink rum, not whiskey? Well that's just insulting to Irish culture. Oh, they're not Irish and it's a Churchill quote. Well, thank you Emily for being so enlightening and I'm sorry that I didn't read Wikipedia closely this time. I had a hard time putting Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash in perspective. I mean, what else sounds like this. I was forced to compare it to Dropkick Murphys, since they have the whole Celtic punk thing going. But that just felt like I was comparing The Beatles to Creed or Nickelback, and that's just wrong. The Pogues was definitely better than that. But the question of how much better remains. I had never heard anything quite like them; what with their punk rock attitude combined with traditional Irish instrumentation and style. I was forced to gauge for myself what I thought. As scary as that may seem, I was able to conquer the fear of independent thought and came to the outcome that I liked it. They mashed Bob Dylan, The Dead Kennedys, and Lucky the Leprechaun together for 45 minutes of fun. The album, which never necessarily peaked but was strong throughout, did have several shining moments. One of them was the song A Pair of Brown Eyes, which I think may have been the single. It reminded me of the classic Van Morrison tune, had he been a couple pints of Guinness in of course. Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash is full of drinking tunes and traditional ditties that are fun and catchy. It's not the deepest album, but it certainly is a raucous good time.
Favorite Tracks: The Band Played Waltzing Matilda; A Pistol for Paddy Garcia; A Pair of Brown Eyes