500. Gretchen Goes To Nebraska (1989) - Kings XKings X's acclaimed sophomore effort kicked up the already solid, hard-rock-through-a-Beatles-filter-with-a-dash-of-prog songwriting from their debut Out of the Silver Planet. This round features Doug Pinnick's finest vocal performance in their overall signature jam "Over My Head". As a loose concept album, the other eleven songs are nearly as strong as are Pinnick's soulful wailing, meshing beautifully with Ty Tabor's Beatles impression.
Rising gloriously from the ashes of At the Drive-In, Omar Rodríguez-López and Cedric Bixler-Zavala make brains melt with De-loused In the Comatorium, the debut from their other band they'll be known for the Mars Volta. A drugged out concept album by musicians who are spastically trying to play all the notes at once, Cedric's vocals wail like a mythical creature/Alvin and the Chipmunk hybrid over it all. This record took me several listens to pretend to wrap my brain around but repeated visits reap more and more rewards. Easily one of the finest prog outings thus far this century.
The first solo album that stemmed from what would become a long break for the Verve, Richard Ashcroft's Alone with Everybody was randomly recommended to me by a fellow co-worker and it's gone on to become my favorite thing Ashcroft has been involved in, including the much loved Urban Hymns. Ballad heavy and ergo why I like it, Alone features no shortage of excellent, acoustically driven songs like "A Song for the Lovers", "New York", and the gorgeous "You On My Mind When I Sleep".
Acting as a second debut kinda, Pantera's Cowboys from Hell is the earliest of the band's albums that you'll ever actually lay eyes on anywhere outside of ebay as their first four, Motely-Crue-though-Power Metal ones have been consistently neglected by all surviving members. Cowboys gloriously showcases what would become the world's finest groove-metal band, though still with more of a thrashy edge musically and a Rob Halford-esque vocal delivery from Phil Anselmo. But you're not really a metalhead at all if "Cemetary Gates", "Domination", and the title track haven't blown out your speakers at least once.
The long out of print fifth Neil Young album On the Beach was recorded after the singer/songwriter had bared his soul on the ultimate downer Tonight's the Night, but released earlier as the studio follow up to Harvest. Though Beach sounds like a Herman's Hermits greatest hits to the utter despair of Tonights, both of 'em compared to the hit-filled Harvest threw many a record buyer off at the time. Young is still at his best here, with three of these songs sharing the "blues" title, the final "Ambulance Blues" easily the most superior and in the running as Young's all time finest numbers.
More melodic surely, but Death's final opus The Sound of Perseverance still shreds and destroys. Hardly ever was a production job, (handled by Jim Morris and Chuck Schuldiner himself), this pristine for a metal record. Every instrument is audible and Richard Christy delivers a jaw dropping performance straight away within the first few seconds of "Scavenger of Human Sorrow". Of course it's Chuck's writing and he and Shannon Hamm's axe trading that are probably the most astounding. "Bite the Pain" and "Spirit Crusher" are as heavy as anything in the Death catalog while "Flesh and the Power It Holds" is their best epic.
Credited with introducing the concept of in-between-jam sketches on a rap album, (which as anyone who's listened to ANY rap album since has surely noticed), and for having a comparatively non-gangsta theme where the rhymes were more free flowing and playful, De La Soul's debut 3 Feet High and Rising ends up being one of the most fun classic hip-hop albums in existence. "Me Myself and I" is obviously the most famous cut, but skip not "The Magic Number" which boast the most glorious use of Led Zeppelin's "The Crunge" since Led Zeppelin's "The Crunge".
Big as a Zappa fan as I be, I'm not particularly wild about early Mothers of Invention. Mostly because most all the material Zappa produced since Hot Rats onward dwarfs his early, satirical, mini doo-wop and hippy parodying soundscapes. Labeled as his first solo album, Hot Rats is the beginning of Zappa's freakishly good musicianship period which would ever improve well into the 80s. "Peaches en Regalia" is in the short running for the finest instrumental rock track ever, but then again maybe that's because it and the rest of Rats is so heavily jazz influenced. Well, because of or in spite of. Sometimes they're one in the same where Frank was concerned.
In album form, Muddy Waters at Newport is rightfully considered essential listening but as I'm passing on live albums one and all, oh fiddlesticks, can't put it here. Hard Again does feature the ultimate version of "Mannish Boy", but besides that, I've never really considered it Waters' finest studio work. Enter Sings Big Bill Broonzy, his twenty-eight minute tribute to the man it's named after. Ten songs that are less recognizable than the numerous Willie Dixon written standards that Waters got known for releasing on Chess, Broonzy is equally amazing if for anything else than for the greatest blues vocalist this side of B.B. King tearing it up accordingly.
And on the subject of the blues, Entombed's third release Wolverine Blues more than successfully turned the Swedish, buzz-distortioned death metal band into the first and by far best death 'n' roll outfit. Groove and sluggish, monstrously slamming riffs now took center stage and for a death metal record, the music here breathes just as much as it kills. "Eyemaster", "Heavens Die", and "Out of Hand" are just as crushing if not more so than any of the technical, speed-enforced acts of the same era. Even if Entombed never came close to reaching these heights again, (they didn't), the damage was gloriously done and done here.
Sans their debut, the production hath always been more slamming on every other release than on Clutch's second album. But all that besides, Clutch the album has their most consistently amazing batch of songs, though few could argue that nearly their entire catalog is consistently amazing. "Rock n' Roll Outlaw", "Tight Like That", and "The House That Peterbilt" are all outstanding stoner-blues beasts, but "Texan Book of the Dead" is nearly un-toppable both in the form of awesomely stupid riffs, lyrics, and chorus all combined into an infectious bit of headbanging that is probably what all rock music is supposed to sound like.
Judas Priest's first bonafide, leather to the balls speedmetal outing Painkiller is so goddamn good that it makes every other classic album they did before it seem obsolete. Gone was the competent rock drumming of Dave Holland, (not my brother or the famous jazz bassist btw), and in was Scott Travis, straight from virtuoso-freak band Racer X. That alone would've done the job, but alas the rest of the iconic British heavy metal gods deliver their most solid and fastest batch of songs, riffs, solos, and Rob Halford's lobotomy shattering screams. The title track is kinda the best metal song in the history of the genre and the rest of Painkiller does zero wrong from there.
Though technically the least great out of Mike Patton's initial four album run with Faith No More, The Real Thing still succeeds as their most "metal" and features their one and only hit really with "Epic". Though I've moved on from that song to appreciate virtually everything else in their catalog more, it still got me to pick The Real Thing up in the first place as for sure it did many others. Patton's vocals didn't get their full, any-and-everything work-out yet, but he does wail like a high-pitched Alice Cooper on many of these jams and the title track, "Surprise! You're Dead!", and "Falling To Pieces" still funk-out the heaviness most goodly.
Few songwriters seem to have as open a sense of humor as Nick Lowe and his first post-Brinsley Schwarz solo album Jesus of Cool wears that sense of humor both in the album title and cover. Lowe bounces all over the power-pop spectrum here with a slew of songs about well, being a pop musician. Emerging in the era when Elvis Costello, (whom's masterpieces Lowe was solely producing), was angerly biting his way though his hooky-as-hell songwriting, Lowe is kinda tossing out smart-ass jabs with a nod and a wink. Musically it's as infectious as the best guitar pop of it's day if not more so. Let's have more songs like "Nutted By Reality" shall we?
For those who don't particularly know their rap history but obviously know "The Humpty Dance" because we all do, they may be surprised to learn that the album the greatest novelty single of all time stems from is amazeballs. Part pro-safe-sex concept album about the joys of popping a pill and tripping balls of big booty hoes rocking your world, Sex Packets is one of the more ambitious hip-hop joints of it's day. The best Hendrix riff of all time is sampled on "The Way We Swing", "Doowutchyalike" is as funny as the albums more iconic other single, and the ending five-track suite brings the concept head-boppingly home.
I had three Cannibal Corpse albums initially written down here, but Bloodthirst ended up being the one that stuck around if for any other reason than because it contains the band's finest production, (handled of course by Colin Richardson), and their superior song "Unleashing the Bloodthirsty". Corpse rarely overstays their welcome and at thirty four minutes, Bloodthirst just pummels better than ever or since with riff after riff and Corpsegrinder scream after scream of extreme metal excellence. Torture and The Wretched Spawn I'd say almost equally deliver but really, once you're into Corpse, you stay into them and get all there is to get so no point in splitting hairs with particular recommendations.
It's impossible now to listen to the lead-off track to Pete Townshend's first proper solo album Empty Glass without raising many an eyebrow. After scandalously being under investigation for child pornography possession in the 2000s and coming out as being at least at one point gay decades earlier, "Rough Boys" is almost disturbing in it's directness. That doesn't stop the very autobiographical, heart-wide-open Empty Glass from being great though. I'd go as far as to say this dwarfs most Who albums, great as I won't argue that band is. "I Am An Animal", "A Little Is Enough", and one of the decades biggest singles "Let My Love Open the Door" providing plenty of evidence.
Emerging in '96 when some were beginning to write-off death metal as a fad that had had it's day, few extreme metal albums of any kind remain as well respected as the one that put French-Canadian tech-masters Cryptopsy on the map, None So Vile. This is as flawless a record as the genre ever produced, from it's bass heavy, pummeling production, to Flo Mounier's trademark, spastic drum performance, and of course Lord Worm's ridiculously unintelligible gargled and screamed howls. Many of these elements on their own wouldn't add up to a hill of worms, but in this band at their finest, perfection was attained.
A convincing argument can easily be made that the three album streak by the Kinks beginning with 1967's Something Else, ending with 1969's Arthur, and sandwiched in between with The Village Green Preservation Society is one of the finest in all of British rock. We'll hear from Arthur later, but Village Green has mainman Ray Davies doing his best character studies and nostalgic "We're the most British band ever" imagery. It's somewhat of a far cry from the invasion garage rock of "You Really Got Me", but this is the opposite of a bad thing as layers of light, non-threatening pop need not rock hard to be all kinds of brilliant.
How do you make a country album automatically better than almost any country album before it? The obvious answer is you make it with Daniel Lanois. He and Emmylou Harris' collaboration Wrecking Ball almost instantly becomes the later's finest work even before the first song is over. The title track and Dylan cover "Every Grain of Sand" are even better and the entire album features that impossible to decipher, Lanois atmosphere that any album could benefit from. Harris still possess one of the finest female voices in all of music here, her eighteenth studio album overall and far from her only great one.
The first but definitely not last Wu-Tang solo debut I shall be including is Ghostface Killah/Raekwon/Cappadonna's Ironman. Yes, technically of course it's Ghost's solo debut, but he shares the album cover and many of the cuts with his two Clanites, (as well as several others), and only flies solo on four tracks. The three MCs very much deliver here, particularly in what I'd say is the best Wu-Tang anything song "Daytona 500". RZA does a more soul-inspired production here and Ghost in general has solidified himself as the Clan member with the most killer albums under his belt, this certainly being one of them.
Legendary New Orleans funk outfit the Meters dropped their finest offering the fifth time around with Rejuvenation, an album that at once has one of the best but also kinda racist album covers you're likely to see. Yes that is watermelon on the table. But anyway, New Orleans legend Allen Toussaint handles production here again and being the second album by the band to favor vocals and hooks over just instrumentally funking out, all has been improved upon from 1972's Cabbage Alley. Stronger still it is from the next year's Fire On the Bayou though really, you can't go wrong with any of these. Rejuvenation could stand as the best studio funk album ever recorded and the Meters are certainly deserving of such a prize.
Guest staring Emmylou Harris and Vince Gill, Lyle Lovett's second album Pontiac is actually less exclusively country-tinged than his self-titled debut from the previous year. Boasting eleven originals, Pontiac is a triumph both for how much ground it covers and for how timeless much of it seem. Blues, rock 'n roll, and even swing songs are here, all breaking things up with Lovett's voice never boasting any textbook twang. "If I Had a Boat" starts things off as good as can be; a simple, acoustic proclamation that so many things could always be easier and his humor is let loose in "She's No Lady", "M-O-N-E-Y", and "She's Hot to Go".
Following the all the amazing Remain In Light up probably would've made most bands flee in terror, but David Byrne and fellow Heads don't bother trying to "top" said album so much as to offer up one that's at once their most commercial and still oodles of brilliant. Skip the hugely successful "Burning Down the House" since we've all been there, done that thanks to the radio for all these decades, as instead one of the greatest song titles in history "Making Flippy Floppy" and "Girlfriend Is Better" are dancy as fuck, "I Get Wild/Wild Gravity" has one of the band's finest choruses, and "Swamp" is as goofy as it is funky.
On the American end of things, the Dead Kennedy's delivered probably the finest debut in the early punk era that wasn't The Ramones first album. More politically minded and tongue-in-cheek obnoxious than CBGS's favorite band ever was, San Fran's Dead Kennedys were offensive already just by their band name. Vocalist Jello Biafra, (is their a better frontman name then that ever, seriously?), makes it impossible to ignore him as his one of a kind vocals wobble and spit all over such catchy and nasty punk anthems like "Chemical Warfare", "I Kill Children", and of course "Holiday In Cambodia". But I'd say their hilarious version of "Viva Las Vegas" makes Elvis' a waste of time, no small feat.
I would never argue that Testament doesn't belong on the Mt. Rushmore of thrash bands. That being said, with decades on the job and many an album under Chuck Billy's ever-expanding belt, 1999's The Gathering is almost where you could begin and end. Yes, Billy and Eric Peterson (the band's only mainstays), essentially just brought in three ringers to make this happen, but fuck what ringers they are. Dave Lombardo automatically makes this essential, but Death alumni James Murphy and Steve DiGiorgio likewise do their part to make this one of the finest line-ups in metal history. The tracks slam for themselves, "D.N.R. (Do Not Resusitate)" and certainly "Legions of the Dead" more than anything.
Working Man's Dead all at once transformed the Grateful Dead from THEE psychedelic jam band into one of the very best country rock groups then or ever. The follow-up American Beauty is nearly as pristine, but I'd go with Working Man's as the superior album in their catalog. Two of the only songs that non-Dead heads would recognize bookend the album, "Uncle Johns Band" and "Casey Jones", but everything in the middle tastes just as good. "High Time" is all the pretty and "Dire Wolf" is all the country goodness, to name but two. I wouldn't call myself an expert in this band like thousands of tied-eyed concert goers would, but I know quality when I hear it I'd reckon and this be it.
When Opeth put out Damnation four months after their typically excellent Deliverance as prophesied, (both albums were cut simultaneously), I was eagerly awaiting release day. This still remains the band's only entirely ballad filled observation and it was so good that I would've had no problem with Opeth continuing to just remake it again and again for the rest of their careers. Thankfully in parts that didn't happen as their finest record was still ahead of them, (followed by their least finest, sad face), but Damnation remains a wholly satisfying experiment, one that finds Mikael Åkerfeldt still writing at the peak of his powers, distorted guitars be dammed, (get it?).
When I bought this album after finally finding it at Tower Records some ten-ish years ago and me and my brother proceeded to immediately play it on the car ride home, he read my mind and proclaimed out loud "Oh please let every song sound exactly like this". Of course referring to the opening track "Ground Speed", and wouldn't ya know it, indeed this entire album sounds just like that. For barely twenty-five minutes, Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs battle it out with one of the most legendary and for sure essential bluegrass records ever cut. For those who just love banjo shredding or get all yee-haw goofy whenever this kinda shit comes on, make this a go to and most likely, don't bother taking it out of your stereo any time ever.
I still have yet to get the Purple One's very first album, (plus about forty other ones), but I do pride myself with having virtually all of his essential ones. His sophomore and self-titled effort got the ball rolling with the hit "I Wanna Be Your Lover" which is as hook-laden and awesome as any of his thousands of other songs. The ballads here kinda let the steam out a bit too much one could argue, but there's only two of them. Elsewhere, this is pre-80s dance/pop/rock done at it's finest, with Prince of course handling all the instrumentation on his lonesome as he's wont to do. And least us forget "Bambi" which contains enough guitar acrobatics to establish him as one of the rock world's finest axe-slingers even this early in the game.
It certainly wasn't plausible that the reunited Heaven & Hell line-up of Black Sabbath would put out a new studio album this fantastic decades after the parties involved were all in their respective fifties. But like an old wine in this here case, that's just what they done did. The lead-off single "Bible Black" was pitch-perfect, easily The Devil You Know's finest moment, not that there's any shortage of them elsewhere. Opener "Atom and Evil" and closer "Breaking Into Heaven" are typical Dio/Sabbath epicness and the production overall on this one is heavier than any of these gentlemen have ever been.
Following the monumental 2112 that turned Rush into near household names, the Canadian prog-trio kept the pretentiousness going, this time splitting up the epics with two of them over the ten minute mark per side, "Xanadu" remaining still the superior. But elsewhere, the single length "Closer to the Heart" became an instant classic and ages long radio staple and the title track shone wonders as well. Emerging the same year punk exploded and Fleetwood Mac's Rumors came out, A Farewell to Kings proved that plenty of mighty fine prog-rock was still being made and could scarcely be ignored.
After the more spaced-out sonic template he used on his debut Out of this World, (which also oddly sounded like Joe Satriani's version of Prince at times), the Satch kicked out the jams tenfold on his second, Surfing with the Alien. The ballads "Midnight" and "Always with Me, Always with You" may be the albums strongest moments, but most of the Silver Surfer's favorite album has Eddie Van Halen-tinged riffage with some of the most complex, tight, and furious lead guitar work ever performed. "Satch Boogie", the title track, and "Ice 9" are as hooky as they are blindingly impressive and overall the album represents just how good virtuoso guitar masturbation can really be.
Skylarking may be an example of studio interference, (or at least concern), stepping in and ultimately helping a band make the album of their careers. Fueled by a need to sell more records and hopefully break into America, Virgin Records recommended the band collaborate with an ace producer and Todd Rundgren was the name they naturally picked. Rundgren worked his slightly confrontational magic and Andy Partridge and Colin Moulding's compositions came more to life than ever. Most of the tracks blend together Abbey Road style and all of them are perfect, shiny, colorful pop tunes. The sound of the album also isn't weighed down by the decade it was made as many other 80s albums are.
The greatest blues guitars who ever was followed up his beyond outstanding debut with an album that couldn't possibly be superior, but comes as close as a mere mortal could achieve. Couldn't Stand the Weather didn't break any new ground for Vaughan, but it did offer up another batch of classic, modern blues performances with the title track and "Cold Shot", the later being as catchy as the blues gets. The opener "Scuttle Buttin" is all you have to play to a guitarist to make him wanna either quit or practice a whole lot harder and a comparatively inferior version of "Voodoo Child (Slight Return)" is also here, but Hendrix is a rather difficult chap to top so, can't knock a bloke for trying.
The pretentiously titled third album from Aimee Mann was written and recorded around the same time as the Magnolia soundtrack for which she supplied the best material of her career to. Thankfully, Bachelor No. 2 kept four Magnolia cuts on it, "You Do" closing the whole thing off and remaining the finest of them. Mann's never changing voice and never sub-par songwriting is in it's typical form here, the magic chord progression getting a work-out in "How Am I Different" and the equally somber and smirky "Calling It Quits" providing another highlight.
Two years after dropping his masterpiece Another Green World, Brian Eno the mad genius wasn't quite done with his take on "conventional" rock music with vocals and Before and After Science ultimately became his last album in this mold for some time. Following Science, Eno expanded his instrumental pallet further with a series of ambient recordings, thus inventing that genre of music in the process. Stemming from that golden year of music '77, Eno recorded over a hundred tracks for Science with his usual crop of excellent musicians and guests, ultimately settling on a mere ten of them for inclusion. "By This River" may be the most beautiful song in his discography.
Long before all the biggest rock bands of the 90s seemed to crop up all at once out of Seattle, the Sonics decades earlier proved that there must've been something in the water the whole time. One of the finest garage rock albums ever cut, Here Are the Sonics emerged the same year the Beatles dropped Rubber Soul, but the similarities are none to be found beyond that. Here Are frantically rips through twelve mostly classic rock n' roll songs in less than a half hour. Along with Blue Cheer's Vincebus Eruptum and probably the MC5's Kick Out the Jams, this here is one of the earliest, sloppiest, and certainly noisiest forays into noise rock and what would eventually morph into metal that there is.
And the noise continues, at least in the title. The LA based, exclusively teenage girl featured Runaways were a brilliant concept at first if not a brilliant band, sleazily masterminded by the late Kim Fowley. On their second and ultimately last studio album to feature Cherie Currie, the band prove that they were worth much of the hype as Queens of Noise rocks as good and hard as pick-your-favorite 70s rock act. "Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin" in particular just destroys. Besides in Japan, the Runaways never broke outside of a devout and hip cult fan base, though both Lita Ford and Joan Jett would each go on to plenty successful solo careers in the decade following.
The ambient, post-rock Icelandic darlings Sigur Rós dropped their third album sans a title or any text whatsoever for that matter in 2008. All eight songs are called nothing according to the non existed liner notes, though titles have been made available since from the band. Rós ended up hitting their peak in their chosen style of meandering gorgeously over simple chord progressions and molasses leaking melodies with this untitled album, culminating in the final nearly twelve-minute track that is one of the greatest and sonically epic pieces of music I'd say ever recorded. Few albums chill and sooth the soul to the degree of this one.
The record that kinda officially broke-up the Beatles, Paul McCartney's half-self-titled debut if not his strongest effort on his lonesome, I'd say still remains my favorite. Coming from the guy who around the same time had suggested the Beatles record side two of Abbey Road as an arty suite of mini-songs, it's refreshing to hear him strip his music as bare as could be here. McCartney sounds like an album of demos, with in-mic banting, false starts, and barren production all of which features no other instrumentalists besides Paul himself. Of course "Maybe I'm Amazed" is present, but there's also one of McCartney's prettiest numbers in "Junk" and one of his jammiest in "Momma Miss America".
Machine Head's sixth and deliciously titled album The Blackening found the band playing a different game than they had ever before. Head debuted on the scene strong enough with Burn My Eyes, but each new released since seemed to be less memorable than the last. Mainman Robert Flynn apparently grew sick of being somewhat irrelevant and instead hammered down and toned up his songwriting, taking on a "every song is an epic" approach and delivering one of the most surprisingly satisfying metal albums of the 2000s. The Blackening is chock-full of blazzing leads, memorable as hell riffs, and Flynn's best vocal performance by a mile.
I debated a bit as to which Sly and the Family Stone album I should pick to represent them on this list, not that only one should suffice mind you. Since always though, I've leaned closest towards their first masterpiece Stand!. There's A Riot Going On is the glorious sound of sweaty cocaine and indifference and is one of the finer "sound of a band falling apart" records ever made, but the proceeding Stand! is tighter and more memorable in the individual song department. Four hits exist with, "Sing A Simple Song", "I Want To Take You Higher", "Everyday People", and the opening title track which I only wish extended it's outro for as long as "Sex Machine" is.
Just beating out his more famous and landmark Super Fly soundtrack, I've recently decided that I prefer Curtis Mayfield's debut Curtis just a smidge more. Written and produced by Mayfield himself and released on his own label, Curtis is historically important alongside the work of Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye around the same time for the creative control it offered. Also similar to Gaye, Curtis deals almost exclusively with the social and political issues of the day which were tricky if at all to ignore, especially for a black soul musician. The funky jamming of "Move On Up", in-your-face lyrics of "(Don't Worry) If There's a Hell Bellow, We're All Gonna Go", and the prettiness of "The Makings of You" and "Miss Black America" are all testaments to Mayfields genius.
For Panetra's third major released album Far Beyond Driven, the southern groove-metal masters were on everyone's radar far as how exactly they were gonna follow up the instant classic Vulgar Display of Power. Sans "Good Friends and a Bottle of Pills" which is easily the worst song they ever did, Far Beyond kicked down the tuning and roared with a far more chunky, still tits-tight attack. Lower and slimier, but boasting no shortage of amazing songs with "5 Minutes Alone", "Slaughtered", "Shedding Skin", and "I'm Broken" chief among them. Driven also closes with a cover of "Planet Caravan", one of the less memorable Black Sabbath jams, transformed here into a highlight with arguably the finest and bluesiest lead work Dimebag ever let loose.
Another country collaboration with Loretta Lynn and Jack White's Van Lear Rose. White, (five decades Lynn's senior), helped produce and perform Lynn's excellent batch of original songs and the results are startling. Many a singer-songwriter who had presumably had their day in the spotlight seemed to be jumping back ever since Johnny Cash teamed up with Rick Rubin for his first American Recording album, and Loretta Lynn does the same here scoring her very most successful crossover album. The White duet "Portland, Oregon" and "High On a Mountain Top" could be the best songs herein but really, pick any of them and ya can't go wrong.
Coldplay's debut remains their most ballad heavy and dream like, both good things. "Yellow" was the first single that took off from Parachutes, but it was my hearing of "Trouble" that made me pick this up. Little known to us all at the time, Coldplay would not only go on to make three more spectacular albums, but also become one of the biggest bands of the century thus far. Couldn't have happened to nicer chaps it seems. Chris Martin's vocals here are probably at their strongest, "Shiver" featuring some excellent vibrato. "Sparks" and "We Never Change" are two of the other best non-singles moments and the closer "Everything's Not Lost" is the only song really that shows a glimpse into Coldplay's future, more ambitious work.
The greatest drag queen/Alice-Cooper-worshiping metal outfit of all the times got tired of fucking around on their third album Stay Hungry and decided to kick up the commercialism with a slew of their most crowd pleasing anthems. Regardless of how sick everyone is of "We're Not Gonna Take It", shit like "I Wanna Rock", "S.M.F.", the title track, and the two-songs-in-one "Horror -Teria" all more than deliver. And let us not forget "Burn In Hell", one of the finest metal songs on the planet. Sister's popularity peaked and then quickly waned soon after Hungry, but this along with their first two trashed-out albums are more than enough to rank as classics.
The Unforgettable Fire is noteworthy as being the first U2 album to be produced by Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois, which is like having both Stanley Krubrick AND David Lynch make a film together. Eno and Lanois would stick around for almost every U2 joint since, but their first time working with the biggest band in Ireland and soon the world was an almost entirely flawless experiment of more atmospheric music mixed with Bono's never-changing, politically-charged lyrics. "Pride (In the Name of Love)" was the monster hit, but "Bad" is easily one of the best songs U2 ever did, and the brief "MLK" and opener "A Sort of Homecoming" provide an excellent invitation and farewell respectfully.
Released originally in '57 as a collection of singles plus "new" stuff and then again in '62 as Hallelujah I Love Her So, Ray Charles eponymous debut offers up the classic sound and many of the songs the legendary vocalist became forever known for. "Mess Around", "I Got A Woman", "Hallelujah" and Ray Charles' other eleven cuts do nothing short of solidifying the Genius' legacy. I overall prefer Ray's earlier, comparatively stripped down stuff to his later big band outings and country reworkings. Not that there's anything at fault with Modern Sounds In Country and Western Music, but Ray I'm picking as my favorite nevertheless. It's certainly not advisable to simply stop at one album where this gentleman is concerned, on that I assume we can all agree.
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