#379: The Electric Prunes - The Electric Prunes (1967)

Zack: This was one of the hardest albums for me to obtain, for reasons that I don’t quite understand. Most of the ones that are hard to track down (including the 10 or so I’m still missing, 5 years into this endeavor) are weird world albums that involve going through a translator. And then there’s the Electric Prunes, for some strange reason, which involved a series of mazes to avoid relying on Spotify. Overall, I kind of liked this album. It was short (something I am very much on record endorsing) but also had an innovative vibe to it. It didn’t give itself all the way over into psychedelia, but there was enough there mixed with a nice ambient rock thing to keep it fresh. Overall, you can hear how this was probably a major touchstone for both bands that came out a few years later as well as some a few decades later, Radiohead especially.

Favorite Tracks: I Had Too Much to Dream (Last Night); Onie; Try Me On For Size

Emily: I decided that we should listen to this album purely because of the band name. Anything with the word prune in it is always amusing to me. In Ocean City, MD, where my family has gone on vacation for years, there's a donut shop called The Fractured Prune that has a logo depicting an anthropomorphic prune on crutches with bandages. The donuts are quite delicious, but it's the name and logo that I always remember. I think the same will be true for The Electric Prunes. Their self-titled album is a solid example of '60s early psychedelia, with the trippiness balanced out by atmospheric rock. However, the name is still my favorite part, and I know that's what I'll remember down the line.

Favorite Tracks: I Had Too Much to Dream (Last Night); Train For Tomorrow; Get Me to the World On Time

#378: Missy Elliott - Supa Dupa Fly (1997)

Zack: When we first started this whole ordeal and I looked over the albums that had been selected to represent hip-hop, I was really confused why Missy Elliot was elected to be represented twice. A very small number of rappers got more than one album, and the list of people who didn’t included names like Jay-Z, Nas, Dr. Dre, 2Pac, Snoop Dogg, Kanye, and (I admit I’m biased on this one) Lupe Fiasco. I even came to resent Missy a little bit for taking two spots when I wasn’t completely convinced she should even have one (I’ve named the rappers who are so notably shunned by the list before). But over the course of the past year or so, my stance has softened. Part of that was probably that moment when I found out Missy Elliot would be joining Katy Perry at the Super Bowl halftime shows and I thought that would be cool. Part was probably that time I got a girl in my PhD program to sing Work It in the grad lab, because that was hysterical. And now, we’re here, and I’m happy to report that Supa Dupa Fly deserves its place. Honestly, Missy Elliot’s rapping has very little to do with it. She’s pretty subpar, from start to finish. But Timbaland’s production is absolutely ridiculous, and Missy works it (the production that is) to create a certain aesthetic. It’s the same general air that manifests in her famous music videos from this era, as well. Supa Dupa Fly isn’t about the lyrical skills or technical rapping proficiency; it’s about a general atmosphere that emerges from an incredible partnership between Missy and Timbaland. It also helps that Missy’s shortcomings are offset some by the liberal use of guest features (Da Brat’s verse in particular is awesome). In general, Supa Dupa Fly deserves its spot, although I reserve judgment on whether she should have two albums until I hear Under Construction.

Favorite Tracks: Sock It 2 Me; Friendly Skies; Hit ‘Em Wit Da Hee

Emily: Missy Elliot recently released her first single, WTF, after a ten-year hiatus from recording albums. She's produced and done some guest spots and soundtrack stuff in the meantime, but with word out now that she's almost done her new album with Timbaland, now is a more appropriate time than ever to visit her debut album, Supa Dupa Fly. And we didn't even plan it that way! I definitely had the new song in mind while I was listening to her debut, as well as some of her later hits like Lose Control and Work It. Probably because of this influence, I was surprised that Supa Dupa Fly wasn't more energetic and explosive. It didn't even have that much rapping. What it does have, though, is some super-unique production from Timbaland that shows just how much potential there was in their partnership that emerged in her subsequent hits. Although this wasn't my favorite hip-hop album we've listened to on here, it did make me really excited to hear what's next - Under Construction, later on the list, as well as this new album that could bring the Missy-Timbaland sound into 2015.

Favorite Tracks: The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly); Sock It 2 Me; They Don't Wanna Fuck Wit Me

#377: Fishbone - Truth and Soul (1988)

Emily: In high school and early college, I was hugely into ska music. I went to local concerts, saw the bigger artists every time they came to town at the TLA or the Trocadero, and nearly wore out my Reel Big Fish live CD that I got for Hanukkah in the tenth grade. My music tastes have evolved and expanded since then (thanks in part to this blog), but every once in a while I'll turn on some ska or ska-punk and dance around like I did when I was 16. During my ska era, I had never heard of Fishbone. That's likely for a few reasons: one, they were active more in the '80s than in the '90s and 2000s, and two, their sound is way more than just ska or ska-punk. Based on Truth and Soul, the Fishbone sound can best be classified as funk-punk-ska-rock-metal. It defies genre, and that's what makes it work. The ska horns and two-tone beats are there to an extent, but they play alongside funk grooves and three-chord punk tracks. This creates a wholly unique sound that seems suited for a great live show.
Favorite Tracks: Freddie's Dead; One Day; Pouring Rain

Zack: I had this album classified as “punk,” which is a label that really only tells part of the story. Fishbone are, apparently, a band known for being really eclectic. There are a lot of genres that really leap out form Truth and Soul, including alternative, punk, funk, I think some disco, and hard rock. But ska really is the biggest attention-grabber. Which is interesting, since temporarily that would make them one of the earliest sources of the 3^rd wave ska cohort. While the ska influences might have really drawn me in 5-6 years ago, I actually found those to be the least interesting components. The funk that pulsated under certain songs was really what I found to be the most appealing. Regardless, Truth and Soul is the type of album that has something for just about everyone.

Favorite Tracks: One Day; Pouring Rain; Change

#376: Genesis - The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway (1974)

Zack: For about 60% of the albums we listen to, I have no idea what to write about. The albums I have listened to before we started or those that make a strong initial impression (either good or bad) usually aren’t too hard. But most albums fall somewhere in the range between “that was a totally fine album” to “I really enjoyed this album” and it’s hard to come up with anything insightful when an album (after one listen) is in that range. Basically, if my immediate reaction doesn’t involve at least two exclamation points, either good or bad, I have no clue what to do. In those cases, I usually go to Wikipedia and find something to inspire me. Sometimes there’s something interesting there. Sometimes there isn’t, and then I usually just end up closing my eyes and mashing my laptop keys until some string of bad puns emerges. It’s important to understand that process to understand why I now know that The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway involves a juvenile Puerto Rican youth living in New York City coming to terms with his multiple personalities via having sex with some snake monsters and volunteering to be castrated before walking around NYC with his severed penis around his neck. Had this album made a really strong impression, I probably would have just written straight from the gut and never picked up on that. Seriously, I don’t know if any amount of relistens would have made that plot clear. But all I got from the album was that it was musically pretty impressive and I continue to like the way Peter Gabriel sings. Without much else, I turned to Wikipedia where I learned…things. I’ve listened to plenty of concept albums before, but I don’t remember any like this. That’s a fucked up plot, members of Genesis. That’s about all I have to say about that.

Favorite Tracks: The Lamia; The Light Dies Down on Broadway; The Chamber of 32 Doors

Emily: I truly think that there should be a time limit on album length. Generally, if you think you have more than an hour of material to contribute, you probably don't. You're just hiding the good stuff behind filler and weird experimentation. Prog-rock albums are especially guilty of this. I understand that the bands are trying to tell a story through their experimental, electric, "progressive" sound, but these long albums are just overkill. I think I'd appreciate them much more if everything was culled back to an hour or less. That really was my main problem with The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. Since it clocks in at 90 minutes, I listened to it in two separate phases a few days apart. Some of it is very interesting - Peter Gabriel is a great singer, and the band does some interesting things with the rock sound that understandably makes them pioneers of the prog-rock genre. But the concept makes no sense, and an hour and a half of it is just hard to follow and focus on. I'm not exactly sure what Genesis did after this, but I hope that they kept refining their sound and technique down to shorter albums by focusing less on the crazy concepts and more on their music, which is where I think they shine.

Favorite Tracks: The Chamber of 32 Doors; Fly on a Windshield; In the Cage

#375: Randy Newman - Sail Away (1972)

Emily: The only reason I even know who Randy Newman is is You've Got a Friend in Me. Toy Story was one of my favorite movies as a kid, and I still maintain that it is the best Pixar movie even after 20 years of Pixar movies. So I kind of expected that Sail Away would sound like the simple folk-pop of You've Got a Friend in Me and the rest of the Toy Story soundtrack, even though the albums were recorded over 20 years apart in time. Turns out I was pretty much right, though. The style of Sail Away is very similar to the Toy Story sound - pop songs with pretty piano arrangements and simple lyrics that make for a wholly enjoyable listen. Perhaps that's why Pixar tapped Newman for the soundtrack in the first place.
Favorite Tracks: Political Science; Dayton, Ohio - 1903; Last Night I Had a Dream

Zack: Randy Newman is best known today for writing music for Pixar films. Unfortunately, I am apparently the only person from my generation who is ambivalent to Pixar, so this doesn’t do a hell of a lot for me. I went into Sail Away mostly curious if Newman always sang that way or if his current voice was some terrible accident. Turns out that he’s the only singer from the 1970s who sounds the same today. It also turns out that he’s a lyrical genius. His song Last Night I Had a Dream perfectly captures what it’s like to try and explain your dream to someone. And I quote (clears throat):

Last night I had a dream

You were in it, I was in it with you
Everyone that I knew
And everyone that you know was in my dream
I saw a vampire
I saw a ghost
Everybody scared me but you sacred me the most
In the dream I had last night
In the dream I had last night
In my dream

It started out in a barnyard at sundown

And everyone was laughing and you were lying on the ground
You said, "Honey, can you tell me what you name is?"
"Honey, can you tell me what your name is?"
I said, "You know what my name is."

Last night I had a dream
You were in it, I was in it with you
Everyone that I knew
And everyone that you know was in my dream
I saw a vampire
I saw a ghost
Everybody scared me but you sacred me the most
In the dream I had last night
In the dream I had last night
In my dream

Absolute magic. The rising action. The character development. The romantic subplot. Simply superb. In all honesty, not every song was as vapid as Last Night I Had a Dream. Some, like Political Science, had real heart to it (although it certainly is not up to the statistical methods of the field even in his era, but I suppose I’ll let that go). They’re almost all backed by a soothing piano. Nothing on Sail Away was particularly exciting, but it was a simple and fun listen.

Favorite Tracks: Political Science; Lonely at the Top; You Can Leave Your Hat On

#374: Anthrax - Among the Living (1987)

Zack: Of the Big 4 thrash metal bands, Anthrax was the one I was least excited to listen to. Metallica and Megadeth are just such big names that you want to see what all the fuss is about, and the few Slayer songs I know pique my interest enough that I want to know what a whole album of violent pandemonium (is that redundant?) sounds like. But I’ve got nothing on Anthrax, other than Scott Ian always seemed pleasant when he was giving commentary on VH1 shows and that time he was in a band for a reality show (also on VH1) with Ted Nugent and a bunch of other seemingly insane people. Also, they had a song called Madhouse on one of the Guitar Heroes, although I don’t remember really liking that song and it isn’t on this album anyway. Having officially dumped all of my Anthrax-related knowledge on the table, I found Among the Living to be kind of dull. It didn’t really have the same weight or ferocity that other thrash metal albums we’ve come across have. If you’ve read my reviews for lots of those albums, you’ll know that that could easily end up being a good thing. But here, it really just felt a bit too tame.

Favorite Tracks: One World; I Am the Law; the A.D.I. half of A.D.I./Horror of it All

Emily: Much like Zack, my main exposure to Anthrax was Scott Ian's near-constant presence on VH1 countdown and nostalgia shows throughout the mid-2000s. He usually had reasonable stuff to say, but his weird pointy beard is the main thing I remember about them. Has anyone else ever grown just the bottom of their beard out like 2 feet and then dyed it in various colors and stripes? Doubtful. And it turns out that Ian isn't even the main guy in Anthrax! He just plays rhythm guitar and sings backup. I guess an unusual beard and an appreciation for pop culture can really send a guy to the forefront. Anyway, Among the Living has absolutely nothing to do with any of that aside from the fact that Scott Ian is a member of Anthrax and played on the album. For a thrash metal album, I found it surprisingly listenable. There's loud and fast guitar and some screaming, but there's also some melody going on in there too. I'm not sure how actual metal fans feel about that, but for me it was a welcome change of pace.

Favorite Tracks: Indians; I Am the Law; Efilnikufesin (N.F.L.)

#373: R.E.M. - Automatic for the People (1992)

Zack: This is the second R.E.M. album we’ve listened to. The first – Document – was just the 15^th album that we reviewed back in November of 2010. To give you a sense of how long ago that was, neither Emily nor I could legally drink, and I had yet to master my dorm room bathroom mead recipe to circumvent that particular conundrum. We were sophomores in college and as such had so little actual work to do that we were able to review 20 albums that month which…damn. That’s literally 10 times the pace we currently work at. Using that as a proxy, our lives are 10 times busier now. That actually sounds about right. Also, I don’t think women could vote yet, although I may need to double check the dates on that one. It looks like Emily and I were both underwhelmed by that album (I relistened to it a few months ago and came away thinking the same thing), and honestly things didn’t really change for me on Automatic for the People. It still was a combination of alternative rock with a softer, jinglier side. It still was generally pleasant, but it was still kind of unexciting. I can see how a bunch of different alternative artists from the 90s drew on them, but I think I’d be much happier checking out a band that was influenced by R.E.M. than just listening to R.E.M.

Favorite Tracks: Man on the Moon; Everybody Hurts; Drive

Emily: R.E.M. was super prolific and super critically acclaimed in the '80s and early '90s. That has since slowed down considerably, but the band is still regarded as one of the pioneers of alternative rock and their numerous singles are still in heavy rotation on alt-rock radio. In another few years (and perhaps even already), those songs will migrate to classic rock stations, but I'm sure R.E.M.'s ubiquity will remain. Automatic for the People, R.E.M.'s eighth album, arrived in 1992, as alternative rock was shifting and morphing into grunge. It's definitely not a grunge album, though, but rather more of R.E.M.'s signature mumbly-dude-with-a-guitar sound. I prefer when the band picks up the tempo and goes a bit more tongue-in-cheek (a la It's the End of the World as We Know It), but R.E.M.'s influence on the indie and alt-rock music of the last 20 years is undeniable.

Favorite Tracks: Everybody Hurts; Nightswimming; The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite

#372: The Beau Brummels - Triangle (1967)

Zack: And now it’s time for a recurring segment here at our little blog: Why Are We Listening to This? This bit doesn’t necessarily imply an album is unredeemable, but that there is absolutely no way that it is in the top 1000 (and one) essential albums. Triangle is a good album. It’s a pleasant mix of country, folk, rock, and psychedelic music. But it doesn’t do any of those genres particularly well and I find it hard to believe that there aren’t albums who serve as better examples of genre blending. Some random guy from the Internet doesn’t even think it’s a top 40 album in its fucking year. The clearly credible besteveralbums.com has Triangle at a robust 238^th best album of 1967, and that’s the nicest number from that page I could mention. Looking at the lists of albums from that year, I am very, very willing to accept those as legitimate. The first album chronologically for the list came out in 1955, which means 60 years of music for an average of 17-ish albums per year. And yet somehow this one makes the cut? Sorry for invoking so much #data and #math, but this is pretty ridiculous. Once again, Triangle is a fine album. But it peaks at good, which quite frankly is not good enough.

Favorite Tracks: Magic Hollow; The Wolf of Velvet Fortune; Only Dreaming Now

Emily: I really don't have much to say about this album. Like Zack, I'm not sure why we were even listening to it. It's not a bad way to spend 28 minutes, but it's an aggressively mediocre album. 1967 was a great year for music - Sgt. Pepper, Are You Experienced?, and The Velvet Undergroun & Nico all came out that year, just to name a few. I'd rather spend my time with one of those classics than the Beau Brummels any day.

Favorite Tracks: Nine Pound Hammer; Triangle; And I've Seen Her

#371: The Crickets - The "Chirping" Crickets (1957)

Zack: It’s been a while since I’ve written one of these at this point, so please forgive me if I don’t quite remember what I’m supposed to do. If memory serves, I believe I normally say some random fact I looked up on Wikipedia, give a #hotmusictake, then make some terrible pun and call it a day. Starting with phase one, I think it’s relatively common knowledge that The Crickets were essentially just a Buddy Holly vehicle. But it’s actually a bit more ridiculous than that. By the time he was 19, Holly was already a blossoming rock star stemming from his tours opening for Elvis Freaking Presley (actual name, check the birth certificate). The Crickets were created because Holly’s manager figured that radio stations would be willing to play more Buddy Holly music if they got to say a different name each time. So, basically, The Crickets were a vehicle for the public to overdose of a guy who was just exiting his teenage years. Chirping Crickets has a lot of virtues, but I think my favorite was (we’re now in phase 2) that it was only 28 minutes long. As a culture, we need more 30-minute albums. Thirty-minute albums are never disappointing. It’s just too easy to produce 30 minutes of quality music. And the Crickets really nailed the 30-minute album formula here. Chirping Crickets isn’t particularly incredible, instead hovering right in that solid formative rock and roll zone where the music is solid but not particularly adrenaline inducing. But it’s very well contained, and ends up being something you can hop around to (conclude phase 3).

Favorite Tracks: That’ll Be the Day; Last Night; Oh, Boy!

Emily: How appropriate that we're reviewing this review on October 26, 2015 - Back to the Future Day! Today officially marks the day where all of the Back to the Future trilogy takes place in the "past." Though we don't have hoverboards yet, the Cubs could go to the World Series, so at least part of their predictions came true. I don't actually prefer the "future" part of Back to the Future 2 - the far superior movie is the first one, where Marty McFly goes back to the '50s to make sure that his parents get together so the timeline to his life stays intact. Along the way, he "introduces" rock and roll to the world (aka a high school dance) in 1955. The '50s were a simpler time, where a time-traveler from 1985 could show the musical world what they were missing. Never mind that, by that time, Buddy Holly was already opening for Elvis and was just a couple years away from becoming a rock and roll star in his own right. The Crickets were essentially a Buddy Holly star vehicle, and their debut album here showcases the new style of rock and roll he brought to soda shops and sock hops around the country. The songs are short and simple, switching between up-tempo dance songs and slower ballads with accompanying harmonies. This album may seem out of place in today's hoverboardless world, but it's definitely worth a listen for going Back in Time.

Favorite Tracks: Oh, Boy!; That'll Be the Day; It's Too Late

#370: MC5 - Kick Out the Jams (1969)

Zack: Now this is what I’m fucking talking about! Right away, this album called me a motherfucker, and I knew I was in good hands. MC5 had the balls to introduce themselves to the world with a live album, and I can’t imagine them doing it any other way. Multiple takes and editing are for suckers. Kick out the Jams is explosive from the very start to the very end. MC5 pack so much into 40 minutes that I wouldn’t be surprised if vinyl copies of this album count as a renewable energy source. You can hear everything that would happen in the punk movement over the next 10 years right hear: From Iggy and the Stooges debut only one year later up to The Sex Pistols. Kick out the James is a must-listen for sure for anyone who wants to understand that part of American and British music. On a final note, though, I want to call out Lester Bangs, a person I just learned existed, who was dubbed “America’s Greatest Rock Critic” by someone who is cited on Wikipedia. Apparently, Kick out the James was Bangs first ever review for Rolling Stone, and he called it a “ridiculous, overbearing, pretentious album.” I…but…that doesn’t even make sense. For starters, I honestly don’t think I could come up with a less pretentious album if you paid and/or threatened me. Second, who says ridiculous has to be a bad thing? And third, overbearing? Now who’s pretentious? In summation (yes, this is now a thesis), don’t listen to Lester Bangs. Listen to me. Listen to this album.

Favorite Tracks: Motor City Is Burning; Kick out the Jams; I Want You Right Now

Emily: Occasionally, I find myself wishing that we decided to listen to the albums in chronological order. Now, of course I realize that we probably would've quit partway through the '50s if that were the case, but in some instances it would have been interesting to chart the course of a band or a genre as it evolved over the years and decades instead of piecing it all together like a puzzle. Kick Out the Jams is definitely one of the more important puzzle pieces in the patchwork of punk we've gone through so far, and I wish we could have listened to it sooner. It's from 1969, which is a bit too early to truly be considered punk, and it does have songs that stretch longer than 3 minutes, which the genre all but abandoned by the late '70s. However, every punk album for the rest of the decade seems to hearken back to what MC5 did here. The music is fast and powerful, the lyrics are controversial, and the attitude is sneering and ass-kicking. While these hallmarks of the genre evolved over the following years, MC5 seemed to be starting it all.

Favorite Tracks: Kick Out the Jams; Borderline; Motor City is Burning

#369: Ghostface Killah - Fishscale (2006)

Zack: I’ve thought a lot about who my favorite member of Wu-Tang is. I’ve gone through and given senior superlatives to pretty much all of them. And I’m sure I’ll delve more into some of them when we listen to albums by Raekwon, Method Man, and GZA, all of whom I have hot rap takes on. But Ghostface Killah takes the crown for me, and I don’t even think it’s particularly close. Tony Starks is the only one who can drop an album in 2015 and people’s ears perk up, for one thing. Seriously, I love Cuban Linx as much as the next guy, but I didn’t bother giving F.I.L.A. a chance because I can’t take any more disappointment from Raekwon. But Ghostface is still churning out concept albums about supervillains that are solid at worst. Hell, he’s already dropped two good albums this year and may still have a collaboration with MF Doom coming before 2015 is up. Even within Ghostface’s stellar catalogue, though, Fishscale is something special. Not many artists hit their stride on album five, but I firmly believe Starks did exactly that here. Iron Man is great, as is Supreme Clientele and The Pretty Toney Album. But Fishscale combines Ghostface’s incredible storytelling and unique (until Action Bronson anyway) delivery with some top-of-the-line, not-just-RZA-or-RZA-knockoff beats. The list of producers behind Fishscale reads like an All-Star team. J Dilla, Just Blaze, and Pete Rock pop as the big 3, but Doom’s work here can’t be overlooked. The result is polished, but not commercial. And Ghostface sounds like he’s out to get the most from each and every song. It’s funny to think about how different a place Starks was in here than when he was recording his verses for 36 Chambers, which just makes it even more impressive that he was able to come just as hard.

Favorite Tracks: Kilo; 9 Milli Bros.; Momma

Emily: Unlike Zack, I haven't put much (read: any) thought into my favorite member of the Wu-Tang Clan. Most of my interaction with Wu-Tang is through Zack's excitement about them or Buzzfeed articles filled with pictures of children wearing Wu-Tang shirts. Appropriately, though, I'm pretty sure I know the most about Ghostface Killah. Not about his music, of course, but about his reality "performance" on Vh1's Couples Therapy. Appearing alongside such distinguished figures as Jon Gosselin and Teen Mom (and porn star) Farrah Abraham, Ghostface and his girlfriend Kelsey (whose hair can only be described as a horse mohawk) participated on the show in order to work on their relationship (/get on TV). Among the fun facts revealed during the show were that Kelsey used to be a stripper (which Ghostface didn't like) and that Ghostface had another girlfriend who also ended up on the show in a group therapy session with Ghostface, Kelsey, and Dr. Jen. Really classy stuff. And I also don't really understand why Ghostface was on the show in the first place. Unlike the washed-up reality "stars" seeking to extend their 15 minutes of fame, Ghostface is a bona fide rapper and musician, and a prolific one to boot. Fishscale is his fifth studio album, and according to Wikipedia he's released seven since then. He's an acclaimed storyteller working with high-profile producers, and as much as I enjoy reality shows, I think Ghostface is much better served staying off TV and getting in the studio some more. And if that includes a Vh1 diss track, so much the better

Favorite Tracks: Momma; Kilo; Be Easy

#368: Bad Company - Bad Company (1974)

Zack: When I was a kid, I was obsessed with the idea of releasing a song off an album under a band name that were all the same thing. Like, you know how artists will often have an eponymous album? I wanted to do that, but also have a single on said album that was titled the same as the album and the band. I don’t know why I wanted to do that so badly. Maybe because I am oddly obsessive about weird stuff (probably that). Maybe it’s because it’s a super cool idea (definitely not that). Or maybe it’s because I was really supposed to be in Bad Company, since they apparently thought it would be cool to do that exact thing. I certainly think it’s cool, but now I need to write a review about the album by the band that features the song titled Bad Company and at any time I could be referring to one level and the reader will have no idea which if I’m not explicit. Which means my dream was discerned, not deferred, but now deters. This is simultaneously some deep and inexplicably shallow shit. Anyway, Bad Company (the album) is better than I thought it would be. It has a bit of a Led Zeppelin-lite vibe to it. At some stages it has a hard rock vibe to it, and not the kind that borders on cheesy. At other times it slips into a nice ballad stage that, once again, avoids being cheesy. I’d never really been particularly interested in Bad Company, but I wish I’d picked them up in like the 10^th grade. I think I would have loved this album then, instead of just mildly appreciating it like I do now.

Favorite Tracks: Bad Company; Don’t Let Me Down; Seagull

Emily: We've been on a roll of a whole bunch of British bands that were big in their home countries but barely made a blip overseas. Sometimes they're quite good, but frequently they're just not that interesting and we had better stuff going on over here in America anyway. Bad Company is kind of one of those bands, and I think they fall into the second category. The band did have some success in the U.S., but moreso in the U.K. And while their self-titled debut is a solid rock effort, it's really not all that unique. It sounded like generic '70s classic rock - certainly not the worst thing to listen to, but a whole slew of bands definitely did it better and left a greater impact.

Favorite Tracks: Ready for Love; Movin' On; The Way I Choose

#367: Ash - 1977 (1996)

Emily: Despite what it's name implies, 1977 is not actually from 1977. The album, from 1996, draws its name from the year in which three main events that shaped Ash took place: the birth of two of its members, the release of Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols (among other early punk albums, and the release of Star Wars. Now, I don't necessarily understand where Star Wars comes in here, but the punk influence is clear. Its sound is straight out of a basement punk club, with a bit of '90s alternative and grunge thrown in there. The resulting album is energetic and exciting, and, aside from the end track of just members vomiting (seriously guys, why?), I'll definitely be throwing it into my listening mix from here on out.
Favorite Tracks: Lose Control; I'd Give You Anything; Girl from Mars

Zack: Ash is one of those mid-90s British bands that were huge elsewhere. I have a mixed history with those bands, since I sort of find them to be the most boring and forgettable version of 90s alternative rock. But Ash actually lean pretty far toward punk, which is awesome. It keeps the album from having any real lulls, since at even its most basic 1977 is still high-energy. I wasn’t really wowed by any part of the concept or the execution, but I still have a hard time finding anything negative to say. 1977 is, from start-to-finish, an incredible solid album that is totally worth a listen.

Favorite Tracks: Innocent Smile; Gone the Dream; Darkside Lightside (if you ignore the last 13 minutes completely)

#366: The Waterboys - Fisherman's Blues (1988)

Zack: Like (I’m guessing) the vast majority of people in the world, I had never heard of The Waterboys before their music was thrust upon me. How that was allowed to happen, I have no idea. I went in to this album with absolutely no expectations, and by the time the second song started I was already texting people about how amazing it is. Seriously, who should I blame for not telling me about either this album specifically or this band generally? Is it my parents? My peers? Obama? Someone tell me and I will be ready to protest them. Fisherman’s Blues is sort of this amalgamation of Wilco, Arcade Fire, U2, and Van Morrison. Interestingly, I made that comparison before I noticed that they even covered a Van Morrison song on this album (and actually killed that too, which is pretty impressive in its own right). On the song We Will Not Be Lovers, they incorporate a badass fiddle that sounds so cool that I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the singular reason that both Yellowcard and Mumford and Sons were allowed to exist. Admittedly, the album does fade a bit down the stretch. But the places where it hits, it runs full force into awesome that I could easily write about it for a few thousand words. Instead, I think I’ll just say that I intend to delve much, much further into The Waterboys catalogue and I highly recommend everyone else on the planet does the same.

Favorite Tracks: We Will Not Be Lovers; Fisherman’s Blues; Sweet Thing

Emily: When Zack first listened to Fisherman's Blues a few months ago (yeah I'm a bit behind), he texted me excitedly as he made his way through the hour-long album. Each new song brought about a different influence, a different genre, a different sound, but they all combined into something totally unique and awesome. By the time I finally got around to listening to it, the specifics of Zack's praise had faded from my memory, but I was excited to listen to the album nevertheless. Unfortunately, that excitement probably raised my expectations too high. While I was (perhaps wrongfully) expecting a transformative genre-spanning folk wonder, what I got was a very good, unique modern folk album. A solid entry, with clear influences on the folk-rock of later years, but disappointing. The lesson? Maybe I shouldn't wait so long to catch up with Zack on these albums.

Favorite Tracks: We Will Not Be Lovers; World Party; Has Anybody Here Seen Hank?

#365: Miriam Makeba - Miriam Makeba (1960)

Zack: I’ve semi-recently taken to a few north African bands/artists, namely Bombino (who I believe we’ve talked about before) and Tinariwen, and I really enjoyed the album by Ali Farka Toure we listened to a little while ago. I also have loved everything by Fela Kuti I’ve ever come in contact with, and eagerly await listening to a whole album of his. But my exposure to southern African music has been more mixed. Ladysmith Black Mambazo sucked (not even going to try and be diplomatic about it), and I similarly disliked the South African-influenced Graceland. So that makes Miriam Makeba the first “W” South Africa has gotten their hands on. The album is strong, and does an impressive job of blending together traditional South African sounds with a little bit of jazz and soul. Everything is tied together with Miriam Makeba’s impressive voice, which can slip into a sort of Billie Holiday zone when it’s appropriate but has a range that can evoke almost anything. I wouldn’t say I loved Miriam Makeba as much as any of the above northern African artists, but this album was certainly strong enough to warrant another listen at the very least.

Favorite Tracks: Mbube; Lakutshn, Ilanga; House of the Rising Sun

Emily: Miriam Makeba was also known as Mama Africa, an apt name for the woman who was one of the first to bring the sounds of South Africa to the rest of the world. This self-titled album shows why she was able to do that and earn her nickname. Rather than only covering the traditional sounds of her country, Makeba incorporates elements of jazz and soul to create a unique sound that's accessible to a broad audience. Some of the songs are in English (including a cover of House of the Rising Sun), others are in native African languages, and few mix in both. The result is an album that takes on the world and succeeds.

Favorite Tracks: Where Does It Lead; Olilili; Suliram

#364: The Monkees - Headquarters (1967)

Zack: Ah The Monkees. The giant bag of Fruit Whirls on the bottom shelf of the grocery store that your Mom hovered over for a second, weighing the savings against the sin she would commit, before grabbing the box of Fruit Loops like a true American…of bands. I never heard much about them growing up, so my socialized view is pretty much entirely based upon that flashback scene in The Simpsons when little-kid Marge is told by a bully on the bus that the band on her lunchbox doesn’t record their own music and she has a total breakdown. Apparently, that phase was only temporary. Headquarters actually was primarily written and played by the members of the band, rather than no-name scrubs. It was the first album where they were given the freedom to do so, and they enjoyed an entire week as the top-selling album as a result before the Fruit Loops ended up in the cart in the form of Sgt. Pepper’s being released. And while I’m happy for them, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s pretty boring. It’s sort of like the Drake-Meek Mill beef that is recent as of when I wrote this post: Is it worse to have a ghostwriter or to live with the shame of having actually written bars as bad as some of Meek Mill’s? Headquarters was pretty dull from start to finish. Part of that is probably due to my general disinterest toward the Beatles, the band they were so blatantly emulating, which I’ve discussed on here numerous times. But part just has to be due to how uninspired everything feels. It’s almost like they were a complete corporate project, assembled by a soulless record company that could not possibly comprehend how to build a heart into its design. I give The Monkees a lot of credit for trying to insert their own heart here, but it just seems like maybe they should have left it to the professionals.

Favorite Tracks: Sunny Girlfriend; Forget That Girl; No Time

Emily: My knowledge of the Monkees only stems from watching Brady Bunch reruns as a kid, where there were multiple (I think) episodes where Marsha is really into Davy Jones and then Davy Jones actually shows up. I'm not sure where the Monkees and the Brady Bunch intersect as TV shows and pop culture touchstones, but they definitely have the same aesthetic going on. Both are cheery, family-friendly, and not all that substantial - much like Zack's aforementioned sugary breakfast cereals, in fact. Headquarters is supposedly the Monkees first "real" album, in that they actually sang and played the instruments themselves, but that doesn't stop it from being sugary, manufactured pop. It's a fairly enjoyable way to spend 30 minutes, but you'll forget about almost as soon as the last notes play.

Favorite Tracks: Sunny Girlfriend; For Pete's Sake; No Time

#363: The The - Infected (1986)

Zack: The only things I knew about The The are that they one of those bands that rock critics think is way more important than anyone else and that they seem to have picked a name just to fuck with Microsoft Word. Even as I type this document, every time I write “The The,” like 17 words get underlined. Word is so sure that that cannot be write. Anyway, Infected was a solid album, and definitely less boring that most of The The’s contemporaries (or at least those that we’ve encountered so far). Infected is dark and complex. Unfortunately, while this complexity did make the listen more interesting, it didn’t really entice me into peeling back the layers. I can’t see myself listening to Infected on a long bus ride at any point in the future or even putting any of the songs listed below in any playlists I have planned. But, hey, I still didn’t hate the album!

Favorite Tracks: Heartland; Twilight of a Champion; Out of the Blue (Into the Fire)

Emily: The The is another band on this list that seems to have been really big in the UK while barely getting a blip of recognition here. Much like the other bands of that sort we've encountered before, The The is also an '80s New Wave/post-punk band that came about while Americans were much more focused on Michael Jackson and Madonna. While you can decide for yourself if that is a good or a bad thing, I definitely prefer American '80s pop music over relatively obscure British '80s New Wave. That's probably an unfair comparison to make, though, since they're totally different in both their scope and their sound. Infected is a pretty good album, in fact, when considered alongside its peers. Although bombastic at times, it's more human and interesting than many of its bleep-bloop synthesizer-heavy counterparts. But does that mean I'll choose it over Thriller? Of course not.

Favorite Tracks: Infected; The Mercy Beat; Heartland

#362: Nightmares on Wax - Smokers Delight (1995)

Zack: With a band name like that, I was sort of prepared for the worst. The electronic genre can get kind of kooky and unpleasant, and I will just say that – based off nothing other than the name – I was worried that this album would be rough. Combined with the length, and I found myself routinely coming up with excuses to put off listening to it for another day. Those days added up to about a week (whoops!), but I eventually got around to it. When I finally built up the confidence, I found that there really wasn’t much to worry about. Smokers Delight wasn’t particularly stunning, but it was smooth. It was a good album to bob your head to while you work, which is exactly what I found myself doing. The album is probably like 25 minutes too long, and I question the necessity of having a 1:46 reprise of the previous 5+ minute song, even if it the latter was my favorite song on the album. But it isn’t particularly intrusive or anything like that.

Favorite Tracks: Rise; Pipes Honour; What I’m Feeling (Good)

Emily: For once, I wasn't daunted by the prospect of listening to an album longer than an hour when it came to listen to Smokers Delight. I actually needed the motivation to sit in front of my computer for an extended period of time to work on an assignment for the class I'm TAing this upcoming semester, and a long blog album was just what I needed. Smokers Delight actually turned out to be a good choice in this endeavor. Although I don't love the electronic genre as a whole, the chill, kinda trippy vibe of the album was great background motivation for research and writing. I could pay enough attention to it to know what was going on, but it faded into the background just enough that I could focus on the tasks at hand too.

Favorite Tracks: Bless My Soul; Nights Introlude; Rise

#361: Thelonious Monk - Brilliant Corners (1957)

Emily: I've talked before about how I've started studying and writing to a John Coltrane Pandora station during the school year, a habit that I carried over to my internship this summer and may continue throughout my professional career. Although I can't keep the volume as loud in an office than at my bedroom desk (and headphones are frowned upon), there's nothing like some low-volume, wordless, classic jazz to keep me focused during a long day. I rarely check to see which artists show up on that station, but I'm sure Thelonious Monk has popped up at least a few times. He's another great jazz musician of the '50s, and this album is a complex, up-tempo collection of the genre at its finest. And that means it's exactly the kind of jazz I like to listen to. Brilliant Corners will likely work its way into my studying and work rotation, and perhaps I'll even be able to recognize its tracks in the sea of Pandora-curated jazz I keep on repeat.
Favorite Tracks: Brilliant Corners; Bemsha Swing; Pannonica

Zack: I like jazz music, but I have been hesitant to call myself a fan. I worry that people will call me out and I won’t have a proper reply. For example, when people talk to me about how they’re HUGE fans of hip-hop and they know everything about it, I ask them a very simple question: “Rakim or Kane?” The answer isn’t really important (although it clearly is Rakim), what’s important is discovering if this fan is aware that the genesis of the music and culture predates 2Pac and Biggie. That might sound snobbish, and I wouldn’t hide from the allegation, but I think it’s valid. I can still have a conversation with someone who likes hip-hop that isn’t knowledgeable about all the history, I just need to know what the temporal brackets are to the conversation. Anyway, because I aspire to not being a total hypocrite, I’m aware that certain other prerequisites are probably in place for fandoms of other types of music. And for jazz, I’ve always thought of Thelonious Monk in that category. Because I hadn’t formulated an opinion on Thelonious Monk, I wasn’t ready to adopt the “fan” moniker. But now I’ve listened to one Thelonious Monk album, and I quite enjoyed it. I would put it behind Birth of the Cool and Love Supreme, but Brilliant Corners had a lot of flair to it that made it a great listen. I feel like I’ve really taken a step forward today in feeling comfortable labeling myself a jazz fan, but I may check out a few more Thelonious albums before I make the leap.

Favorite Tracks: Brilliant Corners; Bemsha Swing; Pannonica

#360: Scottt Walker - Scott 2 (1968)

Emily: Blessedly, this album has nothing to do with Wisconsin governor and GOP presidential candidate named Scott Walker. Unfortunately, it's still not great. To me, Scott 2 felt like the soundtrack to a bad musical. It was just over-the-top without much substance that I could pick up on with a first listen. Maybe it's a little better as you hear it more, or if it were actually staged with a cohesive story. But for now, I think I'll take a pass on Scott 2.
Favorite Tracks: Jackie; The Girls from the Streets; Best of Both Worlds

Zack: Much like Carole King, I originally listened to this album back in early June. Unlike Carole King, I didn’t remember anything about it. I couldn’t remember what genre it was, if I had known any songs, or even if I thought the album was good or bad. So my relisten here essentially involved flying in blind. I hope I don’t forget about this album again, because it’s kind of a trip. Walker’s voice booms out in accompaniment of grandiose instrumentation. For the most part, it feels kind of over the top. Even borders on cheesy. But the topics of the songs are serious enough and the sincerity is so strong that Scott 2 drifts away from the Meatloaf zone into a more fun region of the enjoyment spectrum. I think it’s safe to say that the favorite Scott Walker tournament is officially over, and the champion is not anyone currently seeking the GOP nomination.

Favorite Tracks: Jackie; Next; Wait Until Dark

#359: Carole King - Tapestry (1971)

Zack: I originally listened to Tapestry sometime in early June I think. I then didn’t bother to write a review. By the time I remembered that that was a thing I was supposed to do, I had absolutely no recollection of this album other than a vague memory of liking it. Instead of faking it, I resolved to relisten to it. Once again, I liked it. But apparently the main problem wasn’t that I couldn’t remember what I had thought but that I hadn’t thought much beyond that it was a good album. Tapestry has a certain timelessness to it. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see it had been released at any point between 1965 and 1996. But that it could so easily slip into so many decades has more to do with a lack of anything distinctive or exciting enough that would tie it to a certain point in musical history. Let me put it this way: I’ve been listening to A$AP Rocky’s ALLA a lot lately. That album is very good, although I don’t know if I would call it great. Tapestry is probably objectively better. But musically it is very clearly an album from this decade. It couldn’t have come out at any other time. A Rod Stewart feature credit wouldn’t have the same sort of ridiculous effect it has now. And there’s something very comforting in knowing the context that an album belongs in. I didn’t get that with Tapestry. It was a pleasant album that isn’t really bounded to anything. It’s just songs. Good songs, to be sure. But without something more attached to it, I was struggling to find any reason to cherish it.

Favorite Tracks: Will You Love Me Tomorrow?; You’ve Got a Friend; So Far Away

Emily: Tapestry has a feeling of familiarity to it. I was surprised at how many songs I recognized (even 40+ years after the album was released), and I definitely enjoyed the 45 minutes I spent listening to songs both familiar and unfamiliar. However, I do agree with Zack that there wasn't much to distinguish this albums from others of its era and genre. It was pleasant and enjoyable, but I don't think it's going to stand out in my mind when it comes to our next awards post.

Favorite Tracks: Will You Love Me Tomorrow?; You've Got a Friend; It's Too Late

#358: Bruce Springsteen - Darkness on the Edge of Town (1978)

Zack: Why am I bothering to write a review for this? Was there ever any doubt that I would love this album? I’m a proud son of New Jersey damnit, and us Joysians stick by the Boss. Putting my bias aside, though, Darkness on the Edge of Town is clearly a classic. The writing is so poignant that is borders on heartbreaking, even on the songs where the person triumphs over their circumstances. Springsteen is most often compared to Dylan, although lyrically I think that’s a terrible fit. Sure, people may misinterpret Born in the USA and think it’s a patriotic anthem, but in general Bruce is pretty clear about the meaning of his songs. It’s the storytelling that matters. Dylan is so cryptic, that you admire his lyrics for entirely different reasons. It’s like prose compared to poetry, really. If I’m thinking of who Springsteen reminds me of, lyrically, I actually think of a recent artist in Courtney Barnett. They both weave stories that are underlined by vivid characters and wit, and the meaning of what they’re saying is almost never in doubt. But as much as I love the storytelling on Barnett’s recent debut, Springsteen is clearly on a completely different plain here. Every detail comes roaring out of his mouth, matched by the ripping of his guitar or the blast of the sax, so vividly that it almost feels like you’re watching a TV show instead of listening to an album. I was blown away. I’d have to listen to them back-to-back to do a real comparison, but as of right now I would put Darkness ahead of Born to Run on the Bruce album power rankings. With the qualification that we have more than 40 albums left to go, I would even go so far as to say that it’s a strong contended for my favorite album come award time.

Favorite Tracks: Something in the Night; Darkness on the Edge of Town; Racing in the Street

Emily: I'm not from New Jersey, so I don't have quite the strong connection/obligation to Bruce Springsteen that Zack (and everyone else from the state) does. I guess that means I can take a more objective look, but it's not like Bruce isn't revered and acclaimed outside of his own state. On the contrary, Darkness on the Edge of Town is considered to be one of his best albums. It's more introspective than its predecessor, Born to Run, and focuses on telling uniquely American stories. Very few artists do that as well as Bruce Springsteen, and this album is a triumph both for him and for the genre.

Favorite Tracks: Racing in the Street; Badlands; Prove It All Night

#357: Al Green - Let's Stay Together (1972)

Zack: Every once in a while, I like to just randomly start signing Let’s Stay Together or I’m Still in Love With You by Al Green. I like to do it in occasions that clearly do not warrant crooning. I don’t know why I do this. In fact, those are probably the only Al Green songs I know. Now that I’ve listened to an entire album, I can certainly see why those two songs seemed to have been ingrained directly into my soul. Let’s Stay Together (the album) was smooth and soulful. It was the type of album I could see myself putting on while I relaxed with a glass of wine after a hard day of working, regardless of whether Emily was present at the time. If I’m putting Al Green relative to his contemporaries, honestly, I’m taking Gaye, Wonder, and Redding over Al Green, with Isaac Hayes bringing up the rear. But I’ve genuinely loved the albums I’ve listened to by all of those guys, so I don’t mean that as any type of insult. Basically, I’ve found soul music to be an incredibly ripe genre that only seems to bear delicious fruits.

Favorite Tracks: Let’s Stay Together; I’ve Never Found a Girl (Who Loves Me Like You Do): How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

Emily: '70s soul is one of the most remarkably consistent subgenres we've encountered through this blog. While some of it is just okay, it never veers towards bad and frequently can be considered great. There's just something about the combination of horns, guitars, and smooth vocals that just works. Let's Stay Together keeps up that tradition. Although the high point is definitely the title track, Al Green has created a great 35 minutes of classic soul that feels just as important today as I'm sure it did in 1972.

Favorite Tracks: Let's Stay Together; What Is This Feeling?; I’ve Never Found a Girl (Who Loves Me Like You Do)

#356: Dr. Dre - The Chronic (1992)

Zack: Did I have to relisten to this album before writing my review? Of course not. I’ve listened to That Chronic at least a half dozen times, and probably more like double that. But I still played it again, to make sure it was fresh in my mind when I wrote this. I have a hard time thinking of another album from that same era where the beats sound as fresh and futuristic as the ones on Dre’s solo debut. Some of the beats sound like they should have been on Kendrick’s To Pimp a Butterfly this year. It’s incredible how seemingly clairvoyant Dr. Dre seems to be as a producer. And then you listen to the lyrics. For how impressive it is that The Chronic avoids sounding dated musically, I struggle to think of how it could sound any more dated lyrically. Once you get past all the schoolyard taunts directed at former bandmate Eazy-E, there’s still just an entire vat of homophobia, sexism, and just plain ignorance. I’m willing to overlook that when it comes to Eminem because it always sort of felt like the points was just to offend, and that what he was saying was just trolling for a laugh. Dre clearly means it, and that’s far less excusable. In general, whenever I listen to The Chronic, I do my absolute best to block out the actual words. I appreciate how fucking smooth Snoop is all over nearly every track (seriously, this is basically a collaboration album) and I bounce along with the beats. Because once you let the words get to you, this album really loses its luster.

Favorite Tracks: Nuthin’ But a G Thang; Lyrical Gangbang; Bitches Ain’t Shit

Emily: A few days ago, Zack excitedly texted me that Dr. Dre announced that he will be releasing an album to accompany the upcoming Straight Outta Compton movie. For Dre, this is a big deal, since he hasn't released an album in over 15 years (15 years and 9 months according to Zack, but who's counting?). I knew this was a big deal when Zack said he would actually consider paying for the album. And, of course, it made my review of The Chronic super timely. Although I've heard Dr. Dre's production on numerous albums and songs (Eminem, Snoop Dogg, etc.), I'd never actually listened to his own music before today. In all honesty, I wasn't really a fan. Although the G-funk sound is unique and interesting, I found myself wishing for more funk and less G. That sounds has definitely evolved and matured since 1992, though, so I'm definitely curious to see what Dre's sound will be like now.

Favorite Tracks: Nuthin’ But a G Thang; Lyrical Gangbang; Bitches Ain’t Shit

#355: Circle Jerks - Group Sex (1980)

Zack: While I know full well that I am repeating myself for at least the 15^th time, hardcore punk is my least favorite brand of punk. And Circle Jerks are about as hardcore as it gets. But Group Sex is everything you expect it to be: loud, fast, and over just as quickly as an orgy at a house where the parents couldn’t get grandma to take the kids on short notice. For me, some of those sprints of mayhem really landed. Other fell flat. In general, I’d say that the former easily outweighed the latter. But I’ve started to wonder if we really need this many hardcore albums when I have such a hard time telling the difference. Group Sex was as good as it could have been (tee-hee), but I’m legitimately beginning to think that a second Ramones album or a third Clash album would have been more deserving of this spot.

Favorite Tracks: I Just Want Some Skank; Live Fast Die Young; Group Sex

Emily: My roommate is dogsitting this week for a very cute bichon-poodle mix named Whitney. As soon as I turned Group Sex on this morning, she started growling and continued to do so for most of the duration of the album (which, granted, was only 15 minutes long). While its likely that she was just growling at another dog, or the mailman, or a car, or any other random passers-by, I like to think that it started because of the hardcore stylings of the Circle Jerks. That pretty much sums this album up: its loud, fast, and screamy enough to make a little dog growl at you for 15 minutes straight.

Favorite Tracks: I Just Want Some Skank; Operation; Group Sex

#354: Nitty Gritty Dirt Band - Will the Circle be Unbroken (1972)

Zack: When I went to listen to this album and saw how long it was, I’m pretty sure I made a noise like I was a victim in a Saw movie. It’s no secret that the country music we’ve listened to has been hit-or-miss with me. And while my palette has expanded in recent years so that there are more hits than there used to be, there are still a fuck ton of misses. So a double album of country seemed to provide twice as many reasons to fear. After listening to the first half, though, I started to calm down. It wasn’t all bad. In fact, in many places, it was all good. I kind of liked that they were trying to bang everything out in only one take. It all felt so natural. Like I was sitting on a porch drinking wine from a jug while people cavorted around me. Some of the songs I even knew! But then disc 2 started. And all of a sudden I was submerged in a sea of fiddling. And that sea was quite tumultuous. Even though I was sitting in a crappy chair at the FEC coding fundraising data, what was going into my ears was the most uncomfortable part of my day. Eventually, things turned around somewhat. But I was struck by a lesson I really feel more artists should have learned by now: If you think you have enough material for a double album, shut up no you don’t. They could have easily pared this down to a single, 1-hour disc and I would have loved it. But Will the Circle be Unbroken had to push their luck on that double album, and they lost me there.

Favorite Tracks: Nashville Blues; Dark as a Dungeon; Black Mountain Rag

Emily: Will the Circle be Unbroken clocks in at about 105 minutes, nearly two hours of Nashville country music. Listening to it took me five separate walks throughout D.C. - from my house to work, from work to the gym, from the gym to my house, and again from my house to work and work to my house. That's a lot of steps logged for one measly album. And on every leg of the journey, I wanted to be listening to something else. Heard some Kanye West in spin class? Should've listened to Yeezus on the way home. Saw a clip about the Bad Blood video on Instagram? Should've put on T. Swift while walking to work. These are actual thoughts I had over the past two days, but each time I kept on plugging through the fiddles, twang, and lonely hearts of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. And when I stepped into my apartment this evening, the last few bars of the thirty-eighth track playing through my headphones, I breathed a sigh of relief. The unending Circle of country music was finally (Un)broken.

Favorite Tracks: I'm Thinkin' Tonight of My Blue Eyes; Nine Pound Hammer; Tennessee Stud

#353: The Pretenders - Pretenders (1980)

Emily: Chrissie Hynde should rank up there with Joan Jett on the list of badass old-school punk chicks. Hynde may not be as well-known or perform as often as Jett still does, but both have been playing classic punk rock for decades and are way cooler wearing a guitar and a black tank top than you or I could ever hope to be. Another similarity between them is that they're both still fronting their longtime bands: Jett with the Blackhearts, and Hynde with the Pretenders. Though both have gone through lineup changes over the years, their main constants have been the persistence of their frontwomen and the badassery of their music. And much as Jett still mostly plays her early stuff, I'm sure Hynde throws a few tracks off of her band's self-titled debut into every setlist. And for good reason: this album had the spirit of punk tied into the emerging sounds of new wave and alternative. Plus Brass in Pocket is catchy as all hell. That alone should be enough for Chrissy Hynde and the Pretenders to be included in the same category as Joan Jett.
Favorite Tracks: Brass in Pocket; Precious; Private Life

Zack: I originally had this album classified as new wave, which ended up being awesome because it meant we listened to one more punk album and one less new wave album. I can think of exactly 0 scenarios where that is a bad thing. The Pretenders had some new wave/pop flair to it, but the nuts and bolts of the album were pretty much pure punk. I loved that about it. It didn’t necessarily have the speed, but everything else was there. But, most importantly, synths were barely there. I can’t stress enough how much that meant to me. Overall, then, The Pretenders was a good album that serves as a precursor for the pop-punk movement we saw a few decades later.

Favorite Tracks: Stop Your Sobbing; Private Life; Tattooed Love Boys

#352: Pink Floyd - The Piper at the Gates of Dawn (1967)

Zack: When we first started writing this blog, nearly five years ago (holy shit!), I named Pink Floyd as my second favorite band/artist. At the time, that was totally true. When it came time to revise the list, nearly two years ago (once again, holy shit!), they had been bumped from the top 5. At that time, that was totally true. And as of today, they have not reclaimed their original place, although they do threaten to break back in. Why have they fallen? Mostly, it’s because I discovered new (but mostly very, very old) artists that totally blew me away. But part of it is that the Pink Floyd that used to deconstruct my entire consciousness simply stopped doing that for me. I used to put on Animals on my shitty MP3 player my freshman year of college, gaze at the ceiling, and let the music wash over me while I tried to fall asleep before 4 a.m. (college, amirite?) Now, I listen to Pink Floyd and appreciate how cool it is without feeling overwhelmed by its awesomeness. But Piper presented an opportunity to reawaken my love for the Floyd for a simple reason: I’d never listened to it before. My four staples used to be (in order): Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, Animals, The Wall. I’d listened to other stuff, but never got around to Piper. When we started the blog, I intentionally avoided listening to it so that I could document my first time here, for your pleasure. And, having waited so long, my reaction is…meh. I liked it, but the biggest takeaway for me was that I really prefer spacey psychedelic music over fantasy psychedelic music. Most of Pink Floyd’s music falls in the former camp, but Piper didn’t. And, seemingly as a result, I didn’t like it as much. It’s a shame because I was really looking forward to this album. But, ultimately, it just couldn’t capture the magic of the first time I heard the other Pink Floyd albums.

Favorite Tracks: Interstellar Overdrive; Matilda Mother; Astronomy Domine

Emily: I decided to pick up my listening-to-music-while-walking-to-work thing again after a few weeks of totally failing at it, so I started The Piper at the Gates of Dawn without much knowledge besides that it was next on the list and that it was early Pink Floyd. I've listened to only a bit of Pink Floyd over the years (though I did go to an outdoor showing of The Wizard of Oz synced up to Dark Side of the Moon last summer), so I knew to expect psychedelic and trippy musical stylings with perhaps some sort of interwoven story or theme running through. That's kind of what it was, but I could definitely tell that it was early in the band's career. They hadn't quite fleshed out the sound that made them so unique and timeless a few years and albums down the line, so a lot of the album sounded like things we've come across before on this blog. I also thought it kinda sounded like a trippy '60s James Bond soundtrack, which at least held my interest throughout the album. Maybe The Piper at the Gates of Dawn syncs up to Goldfinger? Only one way to find out...

Favorite Tracks: Interstellar Overdrive; Astronomy Domine; Take Up Thy Stethoscope and Walk

#351: The Boo Radleys - Giant Steps (1993)

Zack: The Boo Radleys have one thing going for them for sure: the greatest band name in the history of forever. No one is topping that. Beyond that, they also now bare the distinction of being my favorite shoegaze band, a distinction they earned mostly by just not being My Bloody Valentine (we’ll get to them in due time, but seriously I do not like My Bloody Valentine or 90% of the shoegaze music I’ve come across). Giant Steps was, in my opinion, a pretty good album, but I didn’t think it went much beyond that. Almost every song rests upon a foundation of light, jingling acoustic guitar. Sometimes, this foundation is pierced by a powerful electric guitar. That’s when The Boo Radleys hit their stride. Whenever that guitar is absent, Giant Steps become too complacent. It becomes too shoegaze. It’s a fine line, but that was the main difference between me vocally loathing this album and me appreciating it. That, and that killer name.

Favorite Tracks: Leaves and Sand; Upon 9^th and Fairchild; Barney (…And Me)

Emily: I actually listened to this album about a week ago. I've been walking to my summer job in DC every day, so I have 20 minutes or so each way to get some music in. Well, except when it's raining, or I'm carrying coffee, or if I don't have a pocket, or if I walk with my roommate... Okay, there's a lot of times when I haven't been listening to music on my walks, and that explains why it took me about 3 days to actually finish listening to Giant Steps. It's a long album, for one, and various walk interruptions just got in the way. And it wasn't like I was clamoring to keep listening to it. I kinda just didn't get the appeal of this album. It felt like it was supposed to be a concept album, but the concept just didn't come through. The best moments were those that borrowed more from rock and pop, and steered away from the kinda boring shoegaze sound. Here's hoping, though, that my next few walking soundtracks are a bit more interesting than the multiple days I spent with the Boo Radleys.

Favorite Tracks: If You Want It, Take It; Lazarus; Butterfly McQueen

#350: Pavement - Slanted and Enchanted (1992)

Zack: The first time I ever heard about Pavement was when a kid who lived in Emily and my hall freshman year hyped them to me. He also thought The Strokes were the best band ever, though, so I took that endorsement with a grain of salt. The second time I ever heard about Pavement was in the context of their long-running feud with Billy Corgan from Smashing Pumpkins. Despite my love of Mellon Collie, I am aware of what a colossal dick Corgan apparently is, and so I was very conflicted. Did this mean that Pavement was sort of cool? Now that I’ve actually listened to a Pavement album, I think my evaluation is somewhere in the middle. Slanted and Enchanted reminded me of a better Sonic Youth album. There were weird abrasive phases, but the album was a catchy and melodic brand of alternative rock for the most part. I appreciated that. So even if it means I’m in a similar boat as Pitchfork, I’m going to admit that I liked this album.

Favorite Tracks: Here; In the Mouth a Desert; Jackals, False Grails: The Lonesome Era

Emily: I was better friends with that guy on our hallway than Zack was, so rather than just getting Pavement hyped to me, I was gifted with a few of their albums in my iTunes to listen to on my own time (along with, of course, a couple of Strokes albums). I never actually sat down and listened to any of the Pavement music he gave me, and anytime the band came up on shuffle or through a Genius playlist I usually just skipped it. I listened to a few of the songs I think, but nothing really stuck with me. Surprisingly, he didn't give me Slanted and Enchanted, so this was my first encounter with Pavement's debut album. Overall, it's a solid effort, but not the greatest thing ever. It veers away from the grunge sound that was emerging at the time and comes off with more of a late-80s alternative/college-rock vibe - perfect for lounging in your dorm room circa 1992. Or, for that guy on our hallway, lounging in your dorm room in 2009.

Favorite Tracks: Summer Babe (Winter Version); Here; Zurich is Stained

#349: David Crosby - If I Could Only Remember My Name (1971)

Zack: Poor Graham Nash. He’s the only member of the Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young quartet/trio that doesn’t have his own solo album on the list. Of those four, it has never been in doubt that Neil Young would take pole position. And with Graham by default absorbing the place at the bottom, that just leaves Crosby and Stills to duke it out for the No. 2 place in the CSNY power rankings. Crosby gets to shoot first, although I’ve already been bored to tears by him in The Byrds and decently impressed with Stills in Buffalo Springfield, so he’s not coming in on even terrain. That said, I think he made up his deficit here. If Only I Could Remember My Name is a solid album. Musically, it’s actually really impressive, which I attribute to the all-star cast of supporting musicians Crosby brought in to assist. But the vibe and cohesion aren’t as otherworld as the guitar on Tamalpais High, so I docked some points there. Overall, then, I would say Crosby is a little behind, while Stills still has two albums to cement his lead.

Favorite Tracks: Cowboy Movie; Song With No Words (Tree With No Leaves); Traction in the Rain

Emily: I'm not the biggest fan of the Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young school of folk-infused classic rock. While it can be unique and deservedly classic, more often than not I've found it pretty boring. Unfortunately, David Crosby's solo debut fell on the more boring side. If I Could Only Remember My Name was pleasant enough, full of long instrumentals and shorter vocals performed by some great musicians of the era (Jerry Garcia, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, and more), but nothing about it really grabbed my attention. It doesn't have the lyricism of Neil Young or of the quartet as a whole that we've encountered before, and that's what really makes their albums special. Crosby on his own, though, was just okay.

Favorite Tracks: Cowboy Movie; Traction in the Rain; Song with No Words (Tree With No Leaves)

#348: The Roots - Phrenology (2002)

Zack: The Legendary Roots crew may be known nationally for patiently waiting while Jimmy Fallon stops laughing at random things, but in Philadelphia they’re known more for the incredible two decade run of amazing albums they are still somehow still in. Seriously, this is a power ranking of all Philly rappers:

1) Black Thought

2) Malik B.

3) Beanie Sigel I guess

4) Gillie da Kid (just because he has a song featuring DeSean Jackson and Louis Williams, which 4 years ago was the most Philly shit ever. Also, he ghostwrote all of Tha Carter, which isn’t relevant but worth mentioning since I’m a Lil Wayne truther.)

5) Black Thought one more time

6) Black Thought two more times

7) BIG WILLIE STYLE?!?!?!?

8) Dosage (For you backpack fans out there)

9) GrandeMarshall (Check out his Mugga Man mixtape. It’s not bad.)

10) Black Thought a final time

[...]

998) Meek Mill

Besides for the shots I’m firing at Meek Mill (he’s engaged to Nicki Minaj, so I’m sure he’ll get over it), the important thing to note about is that Black Thought is seriously that amazing. His super lyrical style is backed up perfectly with the jazzy, neo-soul sound of The Roots, and the product is absolutely amazing. Phrenology is my favorite Roots album and I think what I love most of all is the way they allow this album to breathe. They take advantage of the negative space on this album by easing into songs and letting the music linger in the mind before moving on. It’s important that they do so, since the arrangements have this delicate vibe to them. Another thing this album has going for it is that it has The Seed 2.0, which holy shit that song is fantastic. It’s my second favorite Roots song, only behind You Got Me. Anyway, I could probably write a whole dissertation on why The Roots are amazing and Phrenology is a metaphor for colonialism or whatever music theorists write dissertations on, but I think I’d rather close by saying that this is the Roots album anyone should listen to if they want to work their way into this gem-filled discography (after that, Things Fall Apart and then Undun) and that Black Thought contributed to my all-time favorite BET cypher, which you should also check out here.

Favorite Tracks: The Seed 2.0; Complexity; Rollin’ With Heat

Emily: Even though I'm actually from Philly and had never lived outside the Philly area until about a week ago (hi, DC!), I've never listened to The Roots. They rep my hometown so hard, giving us a good name where it's otherwise been tarnished - being Jimmy Fallon's house band and playing in great videos like this one, throwing an all-day festival called the Roots Picnic, and backing every single artist that plays the Philly Fourth of July free concert on the Art Museum steps. All of these things make them the first ambassadors of the Philly music scene, and I've definitely seen them perform at least at that last event, but somehow I'd never heard their own music. That is, until today, when I sat down and listened to Phrenology. I'd need to listen a few more times to really understand what Zack loves about them, but from my first impression I'm a fan. Maybe it has something to do with them being an actual band that has a rapper instead of a singer, but I really liked the soul influence that backs up Black Thought's raps. It just didn't sound like your typical rap album - but then again, Philly's not your typical city, and The Roots are not your typical rap artists.

Favorite Tracks: Rollin' With Heat; Complexity; Water

#347: Meat Loaf - Bat Out of Hell (1977)

Emily: I was really disappointed that this Meat Loaf album isn't the one that has I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That). That song is the epitome of over-the-top arena rock cheese, best belted out off-key at the end of a night of karaoke. Bat Out of Hell has that same kind of cheesiness going on, but it's not quite ridiculous enough to match Meat Loaf's signature hit. It actually sounds more like the soundtrack of a rock-tinged musical than a rock album in and of itself - the composer is actually trying to make it into a Broadway musical now too, almost 40 years later. I can envision Meat Loaf driving a makeshift motorcycle on stage and dueting with a rock chick standing on a balcony above him, while the title track sounds like it's made to be sung by an entire Broadway chorus. When you look at Bat Out of Hell this way, it makes a bit more sense (at least to me) than seeing it as just an overproduced, cheesy '70s rock album. I don't know if that's what Meat Loaf was going for, but I'll take it.
Favorite Tracks: Paradise by the Dashboard Light; Bat Out of Hell; All Revved Up with No Place to Go

Zack: For about four straight days, I would stare at my iPod before starting my daily walk to school, trying to come to terms with the fact that Meat Loaf was the next artist. And for four straight days I found the courage to listen to literally anything else. But I eventually caved into the cowardice and submerged myself in the Loaf. It was sort of like the bastard offspring of Elton John and Dio. As awesome as that sort of sounds like, I do not in fact mean that as a compliment. Bat Out of Hell was so campy that it almost defies all logic. It is about 15 minutes too long. It is trying way too hard to be whatever it is it’s supposed to be. It also takes some getting used to. I hated the first half of the album, but around the midway point I sort of acclimated to how corny it is and appreciated the second half a bit more. Still, I can’t say I expect to have a craving for any Meat Loaf at any point in the future.

Favorite Tracks: Paradise By the Dashboard Light; All Revved Up With No Place to Go; For Crying Out Loud