#454: Dwight Yoakam - Buenas Noches from a Lonely Room (1988)

Zack: While I have learned to appreciate some aspects of country music, others just rub me the wrong way. Dwight Yoakam was in that category. Musically, Buenas Noches wasn’t overly twangy, but I wouldn’t describe it as overly appealing. But what really ruined this album for me was the lyrics and singing. Recently, there was an episode of the Malcolm Gladwell podcast Revisionist History were he talks about his “theory” (to the extent you could call it that) that country musicians are better songwriters than rock musicians (those are the only two genres of music apparently) because they are more emotional and open to discussing it directly and in vivid detail rather than vague allusion. I think that’s mostly bullshit, but there might be something about the directness aspect. Dwight Yoakam is very direct, but I didn’t like a lot of what I heard. The song What I Don’t Know is predicated on him threatening a lover, saying that if he finds out that he is being cheated on then he will murder her. Am I supposed to be moved by the threat of domestic violence? Am I supposed to find that relatable? The titular track, Buenas Noches from a Lonely Room, was easily my favorite song on the album. And yet it too ends with him murdering a former lover (and the mother of his child) who ran away from him with another man. There are plenty of songs about heartbreak on here, and that’s fine of course, but it’s hard to rally behind many of the conclusions. Besides the murder fantasies, I noticed another theme going on: What we might refer to today as the rural-urban divide. On I Sang Dixie (my second favorite song, by the way, to show that I am trying to separate my more analytical thoughts from my evaluations of the songs) Yoakam tells a story of meeting a dying southern man in Los Angeles and trying to comfort him while everyone just goes on by. The man’s dying words are telling him to go back to the south and away from these California weirdos (my words, not his). Streets of Bakersfield was similar. There, it’s people in San Francisco though, and it’s mostly just about how he’s tired to being judged by a bunch of people who don’t know the first thing about where he’s from. The theme of these songs really rubbed me the wrong way. That is probably a specific temporal anomaly. I’m writing this a couple days out from the Charlottesville protests, where a bunch of white supremacists/Neo-Nazis were protesting the removal of a statue of Robert E. Lee. I just watched a video of another Confederacy statue in North Carolina being torn down and kicked by anti-white supremacist protestors. There was a massive march in our adoptive city of D.C. last night protesting a statue of Albert Pike, a Confederate general. I’m pretty revved up on this issue at the moment. And I’m pretty fucking tired of hearing a bunch of southern, “Oh we’re such victims why don’t other people understand us.” Boo fucking hoo. Southern culture is distinct and has lots of really awesome elements to it that denizens of the region should absolutely be allowed to celebrate. The food, the culture of sports and competition, (some of) the music. There’s a lot of great stuff, for sure. But I’m from New Jersey. You don’t think that when I introduce myself to someone and they ask where I’m from, I catch a ton of shit? I have a good friend from Kansas. Flyover country. You don’t think we bust his balls about that every chance we get. People make fun of where other people are from. That’s a thing they do. Hell, both of these songs are predicated on stereotypes of Californians. But I am supposed to weep for the poor, misjudged southerner. Fuck you. Grow the fuck up. Think about another goddamn person for one fucking second. And with that, I’ll rage-quit this post/screed.

Favorite Tracks: Buenas Noches from a Lonely Room (She Wore Red Dresses); I Sang Dixie; Floyd County

Emily: Zack had a lot to say, so I'll keep this brief. Buenas Noches from a Lonely Room is a very old-school country album. It has some twang, a lot of Southern pride, and several Jesus references. I had to do a double-take when I was writing in the date, because it honestly sounds like some of the country music we've listened to from the '50s and '60s. But nope, this is from 1988. I guess there was still a market for old-school country for some old-school people, and that market probably still exists now. But all I can say is that it's definitely not for this decidedly un-Southern girl.

Favorite Tracks: Buenas Noches from a Lonely Room (She Wore Red Dresses); I Got You; I Hear You Knockin'

#453: U2 - Achtung Baby (1991)

Zack: There are four U2 albums on the list, and this is the second one for us. I distinctly remembered listening to the first one on a train ride to see Emily, so I guessed summer of 2011. But I wasn’t super confident in that (it could just as easily have been 2012) and I couldn’t even remember which album it was. Turns out I was right about the time and it was The Joshua Tree. I know I didn’t like that album (and, after re-reading my review from back them, I’m not sure if I outright hated it that much or was just trying to be Edge-y and cool…see what I did there?), but that’s about it. Back then, I would take an hour-long train from rural NJ to Philly, wait for the next train, then take a 45-minute train from Philly to Emily’s hometown. I would normally try and knock out like three albums each way, and I’d inevitably be reading or playing Fire Emblem on my laptop while I did it. They’d all kind of blur together. Now, for Achtung Baby, I tried to give it a little more attention. I listened to it on a Saturday morning, other than the last few songs from Off the Wall that I had to finish up, it was the first thing I was doing that day, so I wasn’t super burned out when I got to it, and instead of playing video games I was just giving issue codes to speeches I’d already read before. I was in a little bit of a less divided headspace. And I think I appreciated the album more than I otherwise would as a result. I wouldn’t say that I had a “come to Jesus” moment or anything. In fact, my scores for this album were hyper polarized. I gave most songs either 5 stars (my equivalent of super good; if I’m just throwing on tracks and not listening to an album straight through, these are the ones I’ll play) or 3 stars (my equivalent of meh meh meh meh meh). But the songs that popped out, I really liked. They were alternative rock with a bit more complexity to it. I noticed traces of Bowie in the formula, which really perked me up. Overall, Achtung Baby showed me flashes of what real U2 fans adore, and those flashes were pretty impressive.

Favorite Tracks: One; Acrobat; Ultraviolet (Light My Way)

Emily: Based on the limited information I have (i.e. Phoebe Robinson from 2 Dope Queens and my friend's freshman year roommate), if you're a U2 person, then you are wholeheartedly a U2 person. I, however, am not a U2 person. I just don't get the appeal. I'm not opposed to alternative rock growing to stadium proportions as a general matter - the Foo Fighters are great! - but U2 always comes off more preachy and self-righteous than fun and freewheeling. To me, the result is just kinda boring. Achtung Baby fit right in to that impression. There were a few very good songs that made me take notice - the kind that you can definitely hear as a stadium sing-a-long, but otherwise I just found it dull. U2 just isn't my thing, and based on my impressions of this album I don't think it ever really will be.

Favorite Tracks: One; Ultraviolet (Light My Way); Until the End of the World

#452: Michael Jackson - Off the Wall (1979)

Zack: After a short, two-album detour, we are once again boarding the Nostalgia Express. This is the second Michael Jackson album we’ve listened to. The first was Thriller, which we listened to on vinyl in Emily’s parents’ basement, I want to say after a riveting game of Mario Kart (but don’t quote me on that last part.) That was super early on, and if we were at Emily’s parents’ house, it would probably be December 2010 or January 2011. So…I’m guessing like 6 and a half years ago. Thriller is unassailable, so of course Off the Wall doesn’t quite compare. But it’s still an excellent album filled with timeless goodies. Michael Jackson truly was a singular talent, and Off the Wall is just further proof of what we all already knew.

Favorite Tracks: Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough; I Can’t Help It; Rock With You

Emily: Off the Wall was Michael Jackson's first album post-Jackson 5 and post-Motown. It was the first time he had some modicum of creative freedom to develop his own sound, and he used that freedom to explore pop ballads, up-tempo funk and disco, and now-classic R&B and soul. The album succeeds across all of these genres, all of which are tied together by Michael's one-of-a-kind voice. Off the Wall has some classics in its own right, and even more importantly serves as a starting point for the even-greater pop excellence of Thriller and Bad.

Favorite Tracks: Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough; Rock With You; She's Out of My Life

#451: Ice-T - O.G. Original Gangster (1991)

Zack: I had mixed feelings going into this album. On one hand, it’s pretty rare that we listen to a rap album I haven’t heard before, so there was an excited sense of discovery. On the other hand, I wouldn’t say I was particularly eager to dive into Ice-T. Everything I knew about Ice-T going in was very early West Coast rap, almost proto-horrorcore in how gratuitous and almost laughable the violence is, and he also had a metal band that he did crossover tracks with. None were particularly great selling points. But I was pleasantly surprised by just how solid this album is. It really has its moments. When Ice-T dives into those horrorcore vibes (namely on Midnight), I tended to roll my eyes, but there was plenty of other things going that were really interesting. Ice-T is a much more talented rapper than I had anticipated. There are moments where he just goes IN. And Ice-T is very, very smart and insightful. He speaks a lot about power and the prison industrial complex and closes the album with an early critique on the first Gulf War and I didn’t even make that last one up. He has a lot to say and is very good at saying it. The beats were…acceptable. They were a mix of those early West Coast styles before Dr. Dre wove more funk threads into the fabric (less jazz-y than the East Coast contemporaries, but the horn samples are just replaced with more repetitive drum machines) and proto-horrorcore beats with their creeeeeepy and spoooooky synth sounds. But he made it work. Even the one hardcore track (Body Count) wasn’t too bad, although that drum solo…woof. Overall, I did enjoy O.G. and can see how it is important for the development of the West Coast sound overall and several rap subgenres specifically. It was definitely worth listening to, and I’m glad it was included.

Favorite Tracks: Pulse of the Rhyme; Escape from the Killing Fields; O.G.: Original Gangster (but also check out Mic Contract, New Jack Hustler, Fly By, and Lifestyles of the Rich and Infamous…it was a long album)

Emily: It seems like Ice-T is better known these days for his role on Law & Order: SVU, his appearance in Geico commercials hawking lemonade, and for his long-standing marriage to Coco Austin (and its accompanying E! reality show). He's still rapping today, but he definitely has a friendlier image now than he did 26 years ago when O.G. was first released. It's a raw and intense album, with graphic and sometimes violent lyrics. Ice-T also occasionally fuses this gangsta rap aesthetic with heavy metal, a combo that doesn't always work but is intriguing as a crossover between two genres that were much maligned by so-called "cultural" critics at the time. I wasn't a huge fan of this album overall, but I can understand its significance in the rap chronology and pantheon as gangsta rap evolved throughout the early 90s. And somehow, for all his talk of cop killing, Ice-T has played a cop on television for over 15 years. I'm sure no one would've guessed that in 1991.

Favorite Tracks: Mind Over Matter; O.G. Original Gangster; The Tower

#450: Eels - Beautiful Freak (1996)

Zack: We seem to have hit a run of really, really good albums lately, and Beautiful Freak is no exception. Seriously, I should say right up front that I absolutely adored this album after a single listen. I don’t really know why, precisely. But this album just seemed to have such…vision. Each song sounds like it is exactly as it was meant to, and it all comes together to form a project that feels exactly as intended. It doesn’t sound terribly different than a lot of alternative and indie albums from that era. But Beautiful Freak was pretty much a perfect example of everything those genres have to offer. Seriously, I loved this album. I immediately started playing it again from the top once it had finished, and only partially to drown out the episode of Below Deck that Emily was watching at the time. I am definitely going to be listening to this album a lot for the next week, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see it in my top 5 for albums 400-500 when we get to that point.

Favorite Tracks: Guest List; Mental; Novocaine for the Soul

Emily: Honestly, I only picked this album because I thought Eels was a funny name for a band. I had no idea how it would sound; frankly, I thought it would be one of those obscure albums that make me wonder how they made it on the list at all. Although Beautiful Freak is somewhat obscure, after a listen I definitely understand how it earned its place on the list. As Zack said, it's an excellent embodiment of the mid-'90s, post-grunge alternative-pop-rock sound. The music is deceptively catchy, and each song tells a story. It's also a remarkably consistent album, although I found the back half to be stronger. Overall, Eels exceeded my (admittedly low) expectations, and I hope to encounter more of them, or others like them, in the future.

Favorite Tracks: Mental; Your Lucky Day in Hell; Flower

#449: Bob Marley & The Wailers - Natty Dread (1974)

Emily: In September, Zack and I spent 10 days in Jamaica. It was supposed to be a week, but then Hurricane Irma happened and our flights got cancelled and we couldn't rebook until three days later. Definitely worse places in the world to get stuck than a beautiful beach resort right on a cove in Runaway Bay. Anyway, as soon as we arrived in the country, Bob Marley was everywhere. Our bus ride from the airport to the resort had a steady soundtrack of Bob Marley classics. The daily soundtrack on the beach or by the pool had tons of Bob Marley, interspersed with other reggae songs and American Top 40 music. The chef at the resort hibachi restaurant sang variations on Bob Marley tunes about fried rice. One of the resort's signature cocktails was called a Bob Marley (layers of strawberry daiquiri, mango daiquiri, and mango mixed with blue curacao - delicious). And then, at the airport heading home, there was an entire Bob Marley-themed store for all of your souvenir needs. Clearly, Bob Marley is very important to Jamaica, or at least to the version of Jamaica the country wants to present to millions of foreign tourists. While the constant repetition of the music did get a bit tiresome, I can't deny that the music is the perfect backdrop to the island. The lyrics embody the spirit of revolution throughout the cities, but the reggae vibes fit the laid-back beauty of the beaches, where you can watch the ocean all day and never get bored. After this vacation, I think I'm a bit Bob Marley-ed out, but though we have many more places to visit in the world, I won't be surprised if we end up back in Jamaica someday, listening to Natty Dread on the way there.
Favorite Tracks: No Woman, No Cry; So Jah Seh; Natty Dread

Zack: We’re back to nostalgia! I actually did look up when we listened to this one, mostly because I knew it was one of the first ones we did. Turns out it was number 13 that we listened to, and number 22 overall (when we started there were 9 albums that Emily and I had both already listened to so we just bulk-wrote those posts; I want to say those were 3 Nirvana albums, 2 Green Day albums, a Muse album, a RHCP album, a Killers album, and…one I’m missing….ah….Arctic Monkeys…why was that on this list at all….never mind…also we went with Flaming Lips for the first “new” listen and that’s a thing I didn’t remember but is pretty cool because I still love that album.) I vaguely remember that. I think I had just finished my personal project of breaking the list down by genre. I then printed out all these sheets and taped them to the corner of my dorm room wall. Emily would come over and we’d haggle over what type of music we wanted to listen to. It was a lot less formalized of a process then. We just hung out on my bed, listening to Catch a Fire and being lazy sophomores. Honestly, my feelings about Bob Marley have only slightly changed since then. I now know about the powerful political and social messages in his music, at least I’m much more aware of them than I was back then. But I still primarily listen to Bob Marley for the relaxing island vibes, not the social commentary. I do feel like I’m missing out on a huge part of the appeal. But the soothing reggae is just so overpowering and alluring. Natty Dread was exactly like that for me. I really enjoyed the album. It was a great listen on our couch while coding, and I imagine I’ll have to throw it on my iPhone and play it next time I’m on a beach. It just feels so good. I know I should be paying more attention to what he’s saying, but it’s hard when he’s saying it so well that the content of the words doesn’t even seem to matter.

Favorite Tracks: No Woman, No Cry; Rebel Music; Talkin’ Blues

#448: Aimee Mann - Whatever (1993)

Zack: I had this album classified as folk, but given the fact that it came out in the 90s and the album title is basically a disaffected and angst-y shrug, I kind of guessed I was off. Sure enough, this album has much more in common with Tori Amos or Jeff Buckley than Joni Mitchell or Cat Stevens. But what really stands out from Whatever isn’t anything about genre but the songwriting. It was sort of Costello-ish in that regard. Everything seemed direct and personal and wry. I didn’t really notice the lyrics until about halfway through the album, which was about when my interest perked up. I’m definitely going to have to block off time to go back and investigate how witty she is in the first half.

Favorite Tracks: Say Anything; Jacob Marley’s Chain; I Could’ve Hurt You Now

Emily: In the midst of a '90s nostalgia boom, where there's seriously a show on MTV called '90s House in which a bunch of clueless millennials complete cheesy challenges only with access to '90s-era technology (and outfits), Aimee Mann's debut album fits right in. Whatever really embodies that early-'90s alt-rock-pop sound that invaded albums and airwaves after Nevermind. The lyrics are where it really shines, though, with clever riffs and conversational confessions. I really enjoyed both the sound and the songwriting of this album, and as with most lyric-heavy albums, it will definitely be worth delving deeper into it in the future.

Favorite Tracks: Say Anything; 4th of July; Stupid Thing