The B-52s
The B-52s
1979
Before the B-52s descended into the ultra-campy silliness of “Love Shack” and all that nonsense, they were one hell of an edgy New Wave band. Their debut album remains their finest chunk of music, mostly thanks to Ricky Wilson’s fried surf guitar stylings (may he rest in peace). With Fred Schneider’s not-singing balanced by the wild voices of Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson, the B-52s' sound is unique and instantly identifiable. Plus, this album features the immortal “Rock Lobster”, one of the most brilliantly insane pieces of party music ever recorded.
#39
Pretzel Logic
Steely Dan
1974
Here it is: the album that gave my blog its title. In reality, Pretzel Logic is far from the Dan’s best album, but it’s by far their easiest to listen to and digest. Most of the songs on the album are short (under three minutes), creating a scattershot of glistening little jazz-rock nuggets. The album also has a much greater range of material than other Dan albums, with loud, rude guitar rock snuggling up next to tributes to Charlie Parker. Topping it all off is the title track, which may or may not be about time travel (or something like that). Pretzel Logic is a great album to listen to if you want a new appreciation for a tremendously misunderstood band.
#38
All Mod Cons
The Jam
1978
Having missed the first wave of English mod culture in the 60s, Paul Weller decided he needed to revive the trend in the 70s. However, up until All Mod Cons, this mostly meant wearing suits and skinny ties while playing Who covers. All Mod Cons is the album that proved that the Jam were willing to create a unique identity for themselves instead of just emulating their heroes. Weller pays homage to another great English songwriter, the Kinks’ Ray Davies, not just by covering the Kinks’ “David Watts” but also by writing songs with a piercing attention to detail worthy of Davies himself.
#37
Radio City
Big Star
1974
It takes skill to take lyrics like “I’m in love with a girl/finest girl in the world” and turn them into anything that isn’t shamelessly schlocky bullshit. But that’s why Big Star’s Alex Chilton is an absolute genius. His ability to take fairly predictable, almost cliché sentiments and turn them into truly emotionally resonant songs is peerless. Add to the equation Chilton’s vulnerable vocal delivery and the band’s crisp, taut playing and you’re left with Radio City, one of the strongest (and often saddest) power-pop albums around.
#36
Rocket To Russia
The Ramones
1977
The Ramones’ self-titled debut album is the one that gets all the attention (and rightly so, since it’s basically the bible of punk rock), but there’s no doubt in my mind that Rocket To Russia is actually a finer album. It shows the Ramones expanding their sound ever so slightly (as in, Johnny Ramone learned a fourth chord on his guitar) and realizing the full potential of this wild musical style they created. They even slow the assault down a notch and create one of their greatest songs in the process (“Here Today, Gone Tomorrow”). If the Ramones had stuck with the same, ultra-simplistic formula after their debut album, they would have quickly become boring. Thank god they were smart enough to record Rocket To Russia.
#35
Pink Moon
Nick Drake
1972
Recorded late at night over a period of two days, Nick Drake’s Pink Moon is an incredibly stark, haunting work. With the exception of a single piano overdub, there’s nothing on the record beyond some incredibly agile guitar playing and Drake’s fragile voice. Of course, the album has taken on an almost legendary status after Drake’s unfortunately early death two years after the album’s release, but even without Drake’s specter looming over everything, Pink Moon is a remarkably emotional album. So many songwriters have worked their asses off trying to create this much emotion with just a guitar. While most of those songwriters have failed, Nick Drake makes it seem like the easiest thing in the world.
#34
Exile On Main Street
The Rolling Stones
1972
This album is terrifyingly huge. The Stones’ legendary double album sprawls across so many different styles of music, it almost feels like it’s about to topple over. But it doesn’t and that’s why Exile is so damn good. Somehow, the band found a way to arrange blistering blues rock, mock-country music, melodramatic balladry and every other odd impulse they had (listen to “I Just Want To See His Face” to see what I mean) into one strangely coherent masterwork. Exile was the last album in their string of peerless classics, but in many ways, I can’t imagine how the Stones could have ever found a way to top this album with a follow-up. To their credit, they didn’t try.
#33
Born To Run
Bruce Springsteen
1975
I didn’t understand the whole Springsteen thing until I moved out to the East Coast. The Boss always struck me as an overwrought patriot, pandering to people’s love of anthemic, sentimental drivel. But then I actually sat down and listened to Born To Run and I realized how wrong I was. Sure, Bruce plays lots of anthemic, sentimental music. But goddamn, he does it so damn well! You’re not human if you don’t get carried away on a big wave of excitement when you hear that urgent, screaming voice. Born To Run also succeeds because Bruce hadn’t realized he was going to be a big superstar yet. It’s this humble honesty, combined with some extremely top-notch songwriting, that makes Born To Run irresistible.
#32
Talking Heads: 77
Talking Heads
1977
David Byrne is insane. He’s also my life hero. Make of that what you will. While Talking Heads: 77 is far from the Heads' best, it’s the album that unleashed Byrne’s bug-eyed personality on the world and it remains one of his strangest, most wonderfully warped pieces of music. Hyper-nervous and erratic, Byrne flits from song to song with yelps and squeals, accompanied by jerky guitar and a strangely funky rhythm section. Talking Heads still had a lot of creative evolution to go through before they discovered the mix of exotic rhythms and punky energy that would make them famous, but Talking Heads: 77 shows how they started: as a deeply art-damaged band from New York, driven by a madman of a singer.
#31
Metal Box
Public Image Ltd.
1979
Johnny Rotten was the demented frontman of the Sex Pistols until 1978, when he realized that the Sex Pistols had become a complete joke. Their brand of pop culture provocation and rebellion had actually become accepted and celebrated by society. So, reverting to his real name of John Lydon, he left and set out to create a new band that would really fuck with people. The result was Public Image Ltd., a screwball of a band that took dub reggae bass and eviscerated it with shards of metallic guitar. They even packaged their second album in a metal canister (thus the album’s title). To this day, people have no real idea what to do with Public Image Ltd., a band too dense and inaccessible to be widely accepted, but who clearly were operating on a whole different level than almost all of their peers.
No comments:
Post a Comment