#182: Buck Owens - I've Got a Tiger By the Tail (1965)

Emily: I do commend Buck Owens on having an adorably creative band name. The Buckaroos? That sounds like a touring children's band that has its own Western-themed TV show, definitely something that would've been on in the '60s. Like Woody's Roundup in Toy Story, or something along those lines. The music itself, though, I didn't enjoy as much. Buck Owens is very much traditional country - that's all it is. Not much twang, but lots of the standard country themes: laments about loneliness and love lost mixed in with some happier tunes about falling in love and enjoying the good times. My favorite, though, was the one with no words. It was simple, calm and pleasant. Not my favorite song ever, but a nice interlude in an album I otherwise didn't really enjoy. Some of these tracks have become standards of the genre, or they were standards first and Owens covered them. I'm actually not quite sure; Wikipedia wasn't clear on that. Either way, this album is a country standard. Not my thing, but if it's yours you'll enjoy this album. But I'm pretty sure everyone will love the band name.
Favorite Tracks: A Maiden's Prayer; We're Gonna Let the Good Times Roll; Trouble and Me

Zack: And here we were making such progress. I had really started to get into country. Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton, and Silver Jews had grown tremendously from where Johnny Cash had planted that wonderful seed. I listen to Cash in my free time so frequently! Yeah, the Louvin Brothers had been a mighty set back. But so what? I thought my newfound appreciation of country might be tougher than that. I really thought we had a chance in the long run. But then Buck Owens happened. I’ve Got a Tiger by the Tail isn’t particularly twangy, so I didn’t have that excuse. It just was so damn boring. It was embarrassingly bad to the degree that I had to turn the volume way down so no one else could overhear what I was listening to during my office hours. It was like when you’re near that weird kid in school and you don’t want anyone to see you two together lest they immediately assume you are both buddies or something. It was only 28 minutes long, but from how frequently I glared at my minimized iTunes with nothing but fury, you would have guessed three times that length. If Buck Owens has a tiger by the tail, I can only hope that the tiger is only biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike (or puurrrrfect moment – sorry).

Favorite Tracks: We’re Gonna Let the Good Times Roll; Memphis, Tennessee; Wham Bam

#181: 2Pac - Me Against the World (1995)

Zack: The 2Pac and Biggie debate is one that dates back I believe to ancient cave paintings. I swear it's even involved in most debate team competitions. Well, it's time for me to bring an end to the controversy. 2Pac is better than Biggie. There, I said it. Want a reason why? Well, first off, when hipsters started getting into hip-hop to be ironic, they immediately sided with Biggie. That should be all the argument I need, since everyone knows hipsters are always wrong. But I will proceed anyway, because I think if I just stopped here it would sort of anti-climactic. 2Pac is the better lyricist. Both he and his East Coast counterpart spent most of their rhymes mining the deepest recesses of their self-doubt and fears, but only one seemed to be able to consistently take those raw emotions and put them into words that aren't featured in Big Poppa. Clearly, Pac wins there. Both had legendary partners-in-crime behind the production booth (Dre for Pac, Diddy for Biggie), but only one of those people has an entire generation of rap fans on their edge of their seats waiting for another installment to his discography. Need help narrowing it down? The other only makes real news now when he's surgically removing initials from him name. Finally, we come to flow. I will admit that Biggie is smoother than Pac.  But keep in mind that neither of these emcees made their living off rapping about what classy individuals they were. Yes, the smooth delivery provides a striking contrast to the content, but this juxtaposition is only revolutionary for like 4 songs. Pac was limited by his own voice, but he did the most with what he could. Overall, Pac is just a more mature rapper. And Me Against the World, while I don't think it is his best work, is a mature album. It's about a man who has come to terms with his mortality and, to a lesser extent, his morality, and is trying to find the appropriate medium for it. Just look at the face on the cover. Does that look like a man who has his shit figured out? God no. But it's a man who has come to terms with the fact that his shit is not figured out, and is willing to admit that and move on with the randomness of life. I think Biggie comes to terms with the finality of life on Ready to Die, but not the randomness. He seems to treat it like it's destiny that he should tragically leave the world; maybe he believed that big figures like him need to go out in big ways. Pac, here, I believe has the epiphany that he might die tomorrow. He might die at 98 years old. There's no way for him to know, but he needs to get that uncertainty out. And from that complex notion stems a complex and layered album. That is definitely better than Biggie's stuff.
Favorite Tracks: If I Die 2Nite; Can U Get Away; Dear Mama

Emily: As diligent followers of the blog know, one of Zack's goals is to get me to appreciate rap, and perhaps even like it. More often than not he has succeeded, but this time I just wasn't feeling it. I guess I'm not a 2Pac person - maybe I'll be more of a Biggie fan, but I doubt it. I think part of it is the way I first listen to an album. As I've said many times, the lyrics are secondary to my ears the first time I listen to an album. I tend to focus on the beats, the instruments, the flow - just not lyrics. I need to listen to an album a few times to really appreciate its lyrical message, and I think that would definitely be true with 2Pac. His introspective, personal lyrics are the true focus of Me Against the World, and everything else is secondary. Maybe I just listened to it backwards and another few go-throughs would deepen or change my perspective, but I don't know if I'll have the initial interest to try.
Favorite Tracks: Can U Get Away; Dear Mama; Lord Knows

#180: Sabu - Palo Congo (1957)

Emily: This album adds a new element into the never-predictable genre of world music: the conga drum. Sabu is a conguero, or Latin percussionist, and really shows his skill on Palo Congo. This album has so many influences that I'm sure I couldn't name them all: jazz, African rhythms, traditional Latin beats, big band, and more. The consistent theme is the driving drumbeat of the conga. Though I could do without the call-and-response vocals that were slightly more yelled than sung, I enjoyed the genre-bending variety of instrumentation and sounds that were all brought together by Sabu's deft drumming.
Favorite Tracks: Rhapsodia Del Maravilloso; Tribilin Cantore; Choferito-Plena

Zack: This is a strong bounce back from that last salsa nightmare. Palo Congo avoids an easy fate of being repetitive and boring through the inclusion of the bongo drums. They infuse just enough of something special that the songs all avoid sounding just like another typical salsa song but all stop short of dominating the songs completely. A few other alterations to that typical salsa sound, like the prominent use of an electric guitar on the final track, Tribilin Cantore, also help to diversify each song from the Willie Colon and Ruben Blades of the world while also staying true to the type of songs men like Tito Puente helped popularize.

Favorite Tracks: Tribilin Cantore; Choferito-Plena; Rhapsodia Del Maravilloso

#179: Kraftwerk - Autobahn (1974)

Zack: A long time ago, a friend explained electronic music to be in the context of two bands: Kraftwerk and Daft Punk. As I came to understand it, Kraftwerk is the first electronic band to give everyone else the tools to make this genre of music as we know of it, but Daft Punk is the first band to really modernize the scene and make it what it is today. Essentially, Kraftwerk is Moses and Daft Punk is Jesus. Now, as you may or may not remember, I didn’t really like Daft Punk, so this had me worried. What would it mean if I like Kraftwerk but didn’t like Daft Punk? Would I have to convert to electronic Judaism? Or what if I couldn’t stand either of them? Would I then be an electronic atheist? There were some real consequences to this album that I needed to come to terms with before I did anything. Before I actually say how I felt about it, I should probably report that I really started to notice what my friend had told me back then. You could hear a lot of different electronic mainstays being utilized in Autobahn. For example, I noticed some Aphex Twin-esque ambience and some looping of instrumentals (namely a pan flute, I think). It was pretty clear that this was the fertile ground from whence an entire genre and even culture sprouted. As for how I felt about it, I think the best word is grateful. I’ve struggled to understand electronic albums in the past, especially ones that had been hyped to me. The genre, so far, has been hit or miss with a lot more misses. But I think I had a breakthrough here. The album itself was okay, but I really began to pick up on the smaller things that make an electronic album good. I think this may have been an important step for me that will help me come to better appreciate electronic music sometime in the future.

Favorite Tracks: Autobahn; Kometenmelodie 2; Morgenspaziergang

Emily: Though electronic music has been around since the '70s, it has really come into the forefront recently with the advent and rapid popularity growth of EDM and dubstep. I'm not particularly a fan of either, but my guess is that most people who have recently gotten in on the trend have no idea where electronic music got its start. Well, Kraftwerk is pretty much the start. While playing Autobahn back-to-back with, say, Skrillex's new album may sound incongruous, the connection is there. In addition to synthesizer, Kraftwerk included real instruments and vocals to create a unique and seamlessly combined sound - just like how Skrillex and his cohorts merge vocal and musical samples with their own electronic beats. All electronic music seems to have this mash-up idea at its core, and it all started with Kraftwerk driving down the Autobahn.

Favorite Tracks: Autobahn; Kometenmelodie 2; Morgenspaziergang

#178: The Smashing Pumpkins - Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (1995)

Emily: I'll admit, when I first saw that Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness clocks in at over 2 hours I was a bit overwhelmed. Especially after listening to Nick Drake's 28-minute-long Pink Moon, an album at over 4 times the length was a daunting task. Would I be able to pay attention to the whole thing? Would it keep dragging on, seemingly never-ending? Would I even remember which songs I liked (and didn't) by the end? Luckily, if any album should be two hours long (and few should), Mellon Collie should be that album. It's ambitious in length, breadth, and scope, but The Smashing Pumpkins live up to that ambition wonderfully. They explore a variety of musical styles and instrumentation, from subdued classical piano to modernist synthesizers to grungy guitars. It all works, and the band switches up the style so drastically from track to track that it held my attention for the whole two hours and constantly kept me wondering what would come next. Even the singles that came from this album are wildly diverse, yet they all stand as alt-rock classics. If only The Smashing Pumpkins ambition and talent could withstand the egos (well, one giant Billy Corgan ego) that brought them down - maybe we could've had a phenomenal 3-hour follow-up to review.
Favorite Tracks: Bullet with Butterfly Wings; 1979; Zero

Zack: Despite the fact that this behemoth of an album is 2 hours long, I must have listened to it at least two dozen times before. It’s just one of my all-time favorites to press play and just let go. I never really had a reason for why I liked it so much, but this quote by Billy Corgan sums it up pretty well: “I'm waving goodbye to me in the rear view mirror, tying a knot around my youth and putting it under the bed.” He also mentions that he aimed the album at people 14 to 24. Hey, that’s me! When I thought about the specifics of when I listen to it, I realized that’s it’s usually situations where I’m really stressed. You know, when there’s some big, bad adult thing I need to do when I just want to go lay out in the sun or whatever. For its massive size, Mellon Collie really hit its target on the head. Soundwise, it’s very diverse. There are songs that are rough and physical sounding. There are songs that are moody and brooding. There are songs that are vulnerable. And there’s everything in between. Sometimes, they kind of miss (see: Fuck You). Most of the time, they hit (see: all six singles and a whole host of other songs). Really, it’s just an exceptionally good album that both blows you away and sucks you in at the same time. Now, that doesn’t change the fact that Corgan is a huge prick who has sabotaged the band to the point that they haven’t been anywhere close to a consistently solid album on the level of Siamese Dream in over 15 years, let alone Mellon Collie levels of greatness. But that doesn’t change the fact that, once upon a time, Smashing Pumpkins put out one hell of an album.

Favorite Tracks: To Forgive; Tonight, Tonight; Bullet with Butterfly Wings  

#177: Nick Drake - Pink Moon (1972)

Zack: Nick Drake’s life (and the songs he wrote about it) sounds like someone tried to create the ultimate tragic character. A recluse with a serious case of depression, his music is as powerful as it is unassuming. It’s just a single acoustic guitar and his melancholy vocals. But it still finds a way to speak to the saddest parts of you. Plus, it’s so short that even the length feels tragic. Like the life of the album was just cut short before it’s time. Sort of appropriate for his final work. There’s not much that can be said about it beyond that it is so sad that it makes the face on the front look like it’s having the time of its life. Clearly this is the kind of album meant for people to stumble upon and experience. I’m really glad I did.

Favorite Tracks: Which Will; Place to Be; Free Ride

Emily: Listening to Pink Moon is like reading someone else's diary. It's so honest and deeply personal that part of me felt like I wasn't supposed to hear it, that no one was supposed to hear it, that Nick Drake wrote and recorded every song as a personal note in order to exhume his feelings. In a way that happened when it was first released - the album didn't even sell 5,000 copies. Like old diaries, the records were stored in dusty boxes as Drake's life came and went. Only in the last few decades did people begin to literally and metaphorically clear away the cobwebs and rediscover these personal laments. I can see why the acclaim was inevitable though. Each short song, only accompanied by a simple acoustic guitar, sounds like it could have been recorded in any era, and its sadness (however personal) can deeply affect any listener.

Favorite Tracks: Parasite; Pink Moon; Which Will

#176: Dave Brubeck Quartet - Time Out (1959)

Emily: Yesterday at work, I has a jazz compilation playing over the gift shop sound system. It was just a jazz kind of day, especially knowing that next on the list was a classic jazz album that we actually have as part of our gift shop CD rotation. A high school kid that was part of the tour came in the shop, noticed the music, and proclaimed that the shop must be awesome because "any store that plays jazz is going to be awesome." Okay, maybe the kid was a bit pretentious, but I see his point now that I've listed more closely to Time Out. As easily as this album became pleasant background music for my afternoon activities, it frequently grabbed my attention with its tempo changes, varied instrumentation, and bouts of improvisation. That's why jazz works so well in a store (or restaurant, or any place of business). For the most part it subtly enhances your experience in the background, but when it draws your attention it becomes a signature aspect of your visit. Of course, this theory only holds for certain jazz music - Kenny G need not apply - and the Dave Brubeck Quartet seems to fit the bill perfectly.
Favorite Tracks: Everybody's Jumpin'; Three to Get Ready; Blue Rondo à la Turk

Zack: Funny story. I ended up riding throughout Siouxsie and the Banshees and had enough time left over that I figured it was worth starting a new album. I’m so glad I did. I really didn’t know what to expect from this album, knowing only beforehand that it was jazz and that it was old. Now that I have time to look it up on Wikipedia, I’ve discovered that it’s practically experimental jazz for its use of unusual time signatures. Yeah…I didn’t notice that at all. But what I did notice was that this was a true quartet. All the instruments are featured roughly equally. If pressed, I’d say that the bass was a bit weaker than the rest, but the performances from the drums, keys, and sax were all indistinguishably good. The quartet really seemed to feed off each other and build a tune collectively. Solos rolled up and then receded slowly, only to be replaced by another. And never did they miss a beat. Time Out, overall, is just a great example of what happens when a group plays together is complete harmony.

Favorite Tracks: Blue Rondo à la Turk; Take Five; Everybody’s Jumpin’

#175: Aerosmith - Pump (1989)

Zack: I’ve never been the biggest Aerosmith fan, mostly on the grounds that they’re kind of annoying. They may be called “America’s Greatest Rock and Roll Band,” but I’ve never heard any evidence to support that claim. Now I haven’t listened to Aerosmith’s complete discography, but I have listened to their biggest album (Toys in the Attic) and I’ve now listened to their comeback album as well. And I couldn’t help but feel underwhelmed both times. They’ve just always struck me as a band trying to be as great as their predecessors. Like they’re chasing the legacies of other great blues rock and hard rock bands but all they can produce is a cheap imitation. Just look at Slash’s tribute to them as the 59^th best musical act ever; he is forced to quantify them in the terms of the Rolling Stones. Those two bands are natural comparisons, with their blues influences and all, but Led Zeppelin seems to me to be the closer link. Zeppelin came immediately after the British Invasion had lit the world on fire, but they became big by doing it their own way. Aerosmith started around the same time, but they just seemed (at least to me) to put out record after record of hackneyed, formulaic stuff. It takes a special kind of group to see the shadows of the greats, dutifully pay their respects, and then go on and become their own entity. As far as I’m concerned, Aerosmith has never done that. You could listen to an Aerosmith album, or you could go make a mix from the Stones, Zeppelin, AC/DC, and maybe a bit of the Yardbirds and get something a lot better that doesn’t feel like a knockoff.

Favorite Tracks: Janie’s Got a Gun; Don’t Get Mad, Get Even; What It Takes

Emily: Zack is not exactly an Aerosmith fan, as you can tell. I'm not really either, but I can't really think of bad things to say about Pump. Then again, I can't really think of many good things either.  Everything about Pump just sounded generic to me. That's how Aerosmith is seen too, so it makes sense. After all, Steven Tyler ended up on American Idol 20 years after this - generic pop-rock breeding more generic pop-rock. Anyway, Pump takes blues rock, hard rock, and pop influences and blends them together into radio-friendly hooks and riffs. It's consistently upbeat and rocking, but scaled down for a mainstream audience. Perhaps watered down is a better way to describe it. There's nothing really to set it apart. Aerosmith does best when they do something unique, like collaborating with Run-DMC on Walk This Way. Unfortunately, unique doesn't really come through on Pump.

Favorite Tracks: Love in an Elevator; Hoodoo/Voodoo Medicine Man; Janie's Got a Gun

#174: Siouxsie and the Banshees - Juju (1981)

Emily: There’s something about female vocalists doing post-punk that just makes sense to me. I think it’s because of the contrast between the high, almost ethereal vocals and the distorted, noisy guitar music. Or maybe it’s the female vocals alone, breathy one moment and growling the next. Or maybe these women just kick major ass. Perhaps it’s all three, and all three are embodied by Siouxsie and the Banshees’ Juju. Lead singer Siouxsie Sioux (pronounced Susie Sue, who knew?) takes the noisy, hard-driving post-punk guitar rhythms that her band throws out and adds haunting vocals, ethereal and gothic at the same time. The result is suspenseful, intriguing, and surprisingly danceable (if swaying back and forth is your kind of dancing, which mine often is). Siouxsie definitely gets added to the list of 80s women who kick major musical ass. In my mind, at least, post punk continues to belong to the ladies.

Favorite Tracks: Arabian Knights; Halloween; Night Shift

Zack: I’ve mentioned before that some albums are just sneaky good. You sit there and listen to a song and really like it, then you like the next one, and the next. They don’t blow you away or anything; but every song is just really solid. This may be the new Sneaky Good Album champion of the world. I listened to this song while doing a stationary bike ride, texting myself short messages about each song to remind myself later. When I reread my texts, I discovered that I had actually loved this album. It had certainly entertained me, but I didn’t think I had thought so highly of it until it was via recollection. The key is how catchy the powerful guitar hooks are. They hit you from track one. It’s sort of like an edgier Bon Jovi really. Paired with those sweeping hooks are some brilliant female vocals. The zenith (GRE word, sorry) of this formula occurs for a stretch in the middle of the album where they switch into a haunting mode. The whole thing is rather formulaic, and I did occasionally wish they would switch it up a little more. Then Night Shift came on and I got exactly what I wished for. The guitars retreat a little and they play with the distortion in a way that, when coupled with those vocals, creates the sensation of being in a haunted house. As good as that switch up was, when they tried it again it was a pretty harsh fail, and at the worst time. The last two tracks both go in different directions and miss miserably. Voodoo Dolly gets a pass because the album is called Juju and it’s at least kind of cool that they made it sound like a voodoo drum circle, even if the slower pace doesn’t suit them. But Head Cut has no excuse for its repetitiveness and general boringtude. Coincidentally, that was one of the harder miles I had to ride. But, ultimately, those two weak concluding songs made the rest seem a little better. Juju reminded me a lot of Myths of the Near Future by Klaxons. I still listen to that album all the time. I think there’s a decent chance Juju ends up in the same category.

Favorite Tracks: Night Shift; Monitor; Arabian Knights