#324: Beth Orton - Central Reservation (1999)

Emily: I turned on this album and about 30 seconds in, I really wondered why Zack stuck it in the electronic category. Central Reservation is primarily an indie-folk album, with acoustic guitar and Beth Orton's smoky-sweet singing voice that reminded me of another singer-songwriter woman whose name still hasn't come to me. It's far from a dance record, or a chillout record, or a house record, or pretty much anything that I would normally classify as electronic. As I listened more, I kinda understood the electronic bit. The Wikipedia page for Central Reservation classifies it as "folktronica," which I guess is like the 2000s version of being a little bit country and a little bit rock & roll. Even so, the electronic elements are minimal and mostly in the form of synthesized percussion tinkling in the background. The less-than-even split between the genres totally works, though I would drop the combo-genre label and just call it folk - albeit with a modern, unique twist.
Favorite Tracks: Stolen Car; Couldn't Cause Me Harm; Stars All Seem to Weep

Zack: Central Reservation sounds like it could be the soundtrack to some indie-ish romcom featuring a quirky, but overall shallow female lead, most likely starring Michael Cera. Which is fitting, since the album cover looks like a still of any one of the multitude of movies with a manic pixie dream girl. Beth Orton works in one of those weird portmanteau genres (this time it’s called folktronica) that I have so often expressed mild loathing for. Consider Central Reservation one of the exceptions. I found the album different enough that it avoided the pratfalls of being generic that so often accompanies the first adjective that came to mind once I finished listening: pleasant. The quirks to the blending of two genres that really don’t seem like they should get along were there, but the mixture was overall smooth. I couldn’t imagine diving in to the album, but it was fitting for background music.

Favorite Tracks: Central Reservation; Stolen Car; So Much More

#323: Merle Haggard - I'm a Lonesome Fugitive (1967)

Zack: By far the biggest change this endeavor has created in my musical tastes is my somewhat reluctant appreciation for country music. If someone had asked me back when I was just a wittle bitty freshman what type of music I listen to, I would have said “I listen to pretty much everything, except country. Country music blows.” Now, I actually do listen to everything (although I don’t have all that much say in the matter), and I wouldn’t levy a blanket statement like all country music blows. I’ve begun to not only appreciate some of it, but also understand what types I like and dislike. For example, Merle Haggard is a prime case of what’s known as “outlaw country.” Other notable exemplars include Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson, both of whom I listen to semi-regularly. I even have a Johnny Cash Pandora station and absolutely love it. The reason I like the outlaw variety of country is because it trades it almost all of the twang (which I know now is a key feature of the old Nashville style of country music) for a more bluesy feel. The songs tend to be about crime and redemption, along with the other usual suspects of women and booze. In short, I find albums of the outlaw variety to have a bit more character to them. I’m a Lonesome Fugitive certainly fit into that category. It was a country album through and through, but one that never felt repetitive or corny like, say, Tiger by the Tail. The songs featured real storytelling to accompany slick guitar playing. It was a beauty to behold. One of my favorite albums from 2014 was Sturgill Simpson’s Metamodern Sounds in Country Music, and you could really hear the Merle Haggard influence. The next time I need a country fix, you can bet this album will be one of the first I play. And don’t be surprised if a lot more Merle shows up on my iPod sometime soon.

Favorite Tracks: I’m a Lonesome Fugitive; Somebody Told My Story; Drink Up and Be Somebody

Emily: Although I'm not quite as enthusiastic as Zack about this album, I liked it more than some of the other country albums we've listened to. In my country taste I tend to skew more modern, but I also like the storytelling element of some of the more classic artists like Johnny Cash and Dolly Parton. I'm a Lonesome Fugitive is on the older side of things, so it definitely has a lot of blues-influenced twang going on. That's not my favorite, but his lyrics make up for it. Each song tells a story and captures a mood, whether it's anger, sadness, or hope. That emotion and honesty is the hallmark of country music, and Merle Haggard captures it with aplomb.

Favorite Tracks: Drink Up and Be Somebody; All of Me Belongs to You; House of Memories

#322: Tom Waits - Nighthawks at the Diner (1975)

Zack: For those of you who don’t know, here’s a beginner’s guide to Tom Waits: his voice sounds like he does vocal warm-ups by gargling gravel, he’s the only man in the world that can wear a fedora without looking like a jackass, and he sang the second best version of the intro for The Wire. Oh, and for the sake of everyone living in the Northeast, we are never listening to another Tom Waits album after this one. Not because it is bad and everyone in the Northeast lives vicariously through us (while the latter may be true, Nighthawks is awesome, as I will get to), but because both times we were due to listen to a Waits album, inclement weather has happened. For those of you who haven’t dedicated our entire blog to memory, we listened to Rain Dogs during Hurricane Sandy (the appropriateness of which I’m only now seeing), and I got to this album the day after a blizzard put life from New York up into a standstill. I’m disappointed that we have to have this policy done, even if it is for the greater good, because I really did enjoy this album. Whereas Rain Dogs was an eclectic mix of several different genres into something that our hyphen-obsessed music journalists would undoubtedly dub Tom-Waits, Nighthawks is a more pure jazz album. It’s recorded in a small jazz club, which really helps give the appropriate feel of what I assume seeing Tom Waits live would look life (i.e. obscured through a thick cloud of tobacco smoke). He spends a decent amount of time introducing each song by rambling and cracking inappropriate jokes while the band keeps a steady pace behind him. Normally, a lot of banter is annoying on a live album, but here it’s the second best part of the album. The absolute best part is all the music, which is fantastic. While I love songs like Clap Hands on Rain Dogs, I’ll admit there are a few songs on there where Waits goes more experimental and I’m not as big a fan (Cemetery Polka being the biggest one). None of those are here. Nighthawks is just really solid all the way through, and I can’t recommend it enough.

Favorite Tracks: Putnam County; Eggs And Sausage (In A Cadillac With Susan Michelson); Nobody

Emily: I didn't get the chance to listen to this album straight through, as I normally like to. I started at school, stopped when it was time to leave the library, started up again when I got home, took a break when my roommate made dinner, and then came back to it while reading a patent application for class tomorrow. Needless to say, this is not how Nighthawks at the Diner should be experienced. As a live album, each track flows seamlessly into the next like a live performance. When you're starting and stopping and taking breaks in between, it's hard to really get the rhythm going. However, one of the great things about Nighthawks is that no matter where you are or how you're listening, Tom Waits transports you to an underground, smoke-filled jazz club. Every quip to the audience, every saxophone solo, every character built out of words and notes - each piece works together to take you back to that night in 1975 when Waits and his band performed this wonderfully creative jazz set.

Favorite Tracks: Spare Parts I (A Nocturnal Emission); Nobody; Better Off Without a Wife

#321: Super Furry Animals - Fuzzy Logic (1996)

Zack: The first time I listened to this album was on my final night in my old apartment, sometime between the hours of “shit there’s no way I’m going to finish packing tonight” and “fuck, fuck, fuck.” With all the running around I was doing at the time, I didn’t really have a chance to formulate a good opinion on this album, so I put off writing my review for another day. That day just so happened to be on my first day of class for the spring semester. More specifically, it was on my walk to school, in the snow, at 8 a.m., while barely awake, and I think uphill both ways on this one-way journey. One thing I picked up on was that the album felt very psychedelic and sunshine-y as I initially left, which was right in tune with my naïve optimism about the start of the semester. As I neared my office, and I began to get colder and colder, the music seemed to take a more morose turn. I may be doing a bit of projecting, though. In general, after two – perhaps unfair – listens, I came away with the distinct impression that this is another one of those British albums that is just fine I guess but doesn’t really make sense for inclusion on this list. Fuzzy Logic is a good album. If I was hanging out with some people and someone played this, I would certainly not be upset. And it’s certainly worth checking out if you’re particularly into Britpop. But being unoffensive and vaguely cool isn’t the same as being one of the (1001) best albums, and I’m straining to see the logic of including it here. Hopefully their other album on this list changes my mind.
Favorite Tracks: Something for the Weekend; Hangin’ With Howard Marks; If You Don’t Want Me to Destroy You

Emily: Although I didn't listen to this album in the cold or while packing but rather while working on an edit from the warm comfort of the law review office, I tend to agree with Zack about this album. It is a bright and fun pop-psychedelic album, but wasn't anything special much beyond that. It sounded like an opening-act band, or an early-afternoon-on-a-secondary-stage festival band. You listen to it because it's there, and you tap your toes and wiggle your hips a little, but you're not about to buy a CD or a ticket to see them headline a too-small club show. Fuzzy Logic is a fun diversion, well-suited to the band's cuddly moniker, but not something I'll remember all that well.

Favorite Tracks: God! Show Me Magic; Bad Behaviour; Long Gone

#320: Otis Redding - Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul (1965)

Zack: I – like many Millenials – know Otis Redding best from Kanye West beats. Gone and Otis were my introductions, but not even those amazing tracks could brace me for the awesomeness that is a full Otis Redding album. Otis Blue/Otis Redding Sings Soul was awesome from start to finish and included a smattering of songs that rock bands would cover in the subsequent decades. It’s incredible to think how much artists from all different genres have drawn on one man, but it just goes to show how Redding earned his place in the history of popular music.
Favorite Tracks: Satisfaction; Shake; A Change is Gonna Come

Emily: Zack didn't have access to internet when he wrote his review, so I'm going to correct a statement he made. Rather than these songs being covered in later decades by various other artists, in fact most of these album consists of covers themselves. I think that makes it even more interesting. The fact that one singer can take rock from the Rolling Stones (Satisfaction), Motown from the Temptations (My Girl), and blues from B.B. King (Rock Me Baby) and turn them all into soul-tinged ballads and rhythms really says something about Otis Redding as an artist. Even though these songs weren't new, he breathed new and unique light into them all and makes his versions classics in their own right. And one of the songs written by Redding himself (Respect) became one of the best-known soul songs of all time - by another artist, Aretha Franklin. It just goes to show that a great musician can both take something good and make it better as well as create something great and pass it on to someone who makes it amazing.
Favorite Tracks: Satisfaction; Wonderful World; A Change is Gonna Come

#319: Everything but the Girl - Idlewild (1988)

Zack: Apparently someone besides OutKast decided to make an album called Idlewild, although I remain in the dark about whether this one too is a soundtrack to a movie. I will say this: this Idlewild is much better than the OutKast version, which remains the only disappointment in their otherwise stellar discography. I’m currently packing up to move, and the last time I binged through albums while doing that was when I ran into Harvest by Neil Young. That album pretty much stopped me in my tracks because it was so amazing. Everything but the Girl wasn’t quite as powerful, but it definitely had a similar effect. I was blown away by its sheer beauty. All of the songs are heartfelt and lovingly crafted. There’s a certain delicacy in it that is hard to explain. Every song just rings with this angelic quality. This Idlewild, unlike the other, is one that I intend to relisten to many, many times.

Favorite Tracks: Oxford Street; Love Is Here Where I Live; Apron Strings

Emily: When I first saw that this band's name was Everything but the Girl, I anticipated some kind of mid-'90s British alternative band that competed with the likes of Oasis and Blur. Maybe there is a band or a song or an album with a similar name, but it's not this duo. Then I saw the album cover, which could represent a twee indie pop number from this decade. Nope, not that either. Everything but the Girl actually comes out of the '80s, and while their sound could be classified under the indie umbrella it doesn't really capture the spirit of Idlewild. It actually has a smooth-jazz and adult-contemporary vibe, and while those genres tend to get a bad rep they actually work splendidly here. The soothing ethereal voice of Tracey Thorn blends beautifully with jazz-pop melodies, creating an album that was pleasantly unexpected.

Favorite Tracks: Oxford Street; The Night I Heard Caruso Sing; These Early Days

#318: The Mamas and the Papas - If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears (1966)

Zack: This is the type of album where I would normally really rely on Wikipedia to fill in my review. Sadly, I do not have internet at the time of this writing, so I’m winging it. All I really know about The Mamas and the Papas is from documentaries I’ve seen about 60s festivals that I watched out of my oft-expressed love of Jimi Hendrix. From that, I gathered that The Mamas and the Papas were sort of the old guard of the counterculture, which the Janis Joplins, Hendrixes, and Whos of the world came and took over for. That’s a lot of what I heard on If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears. Besides or a love of really long titles for things, M&P love to make folk-rocky songs that are really pleasant and upbeat in a no-good dirty hippy sort of way. Sorry. Been watching a lot of 30 Rock lately (see my review for Big Brother and the Holding Company for more proof) and Jack is starting to get to me. It’s a poppy listen that is really breezy to get through. And it shows you just what sort of foundation all of those bands that are more commonly associated with the 60s counterculture built off of. Also, if everything I just wrote is completely wrong for some reason, know that I don’t apologize.
Favorite Tracks: Do You Wanna Dance; Straight Shooter; You Baby

Emily: Since I do have internet right now, I can confirm and correct Zack's assumptions about The Mamas and the Papas. Based on my Wikipedia research, I wouldn't exactly call them the "old guard" of counterculture. They only formed the band in 1965, a few years before all of those other artists took off as well. What does place them in a different category from their peers that emerged later is that the members of the band had roots in the folk scene of the '50s and the early '60s. When they came together to form The Mamas and the Papas and record this album, they decided to stray away from these roots and move towards a sound based more in pop and rock. The folk influence remains evident throughout If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears, however, creating a breezy folk-rock sound that epitomizes the optimistic mood at the time and clearly lays the groundwork for the harder-edged late-60s rock to come.
Favorite Tracks: California Dreamin'; Got a Feelin'; The In Crowd