A BLOG ENTRY!! It’s a really, really lengthy blog entry! About time!
Do you enjoy music? Well, if not, I hate to let you this but you’re at the wrong website. Myself, I enjoy music. Sometimes quite a lot.
What follows is a list of my top 25 favorite albums (and non-albums) of all-time. These are not objectively the “greatest” albums of all-time (since a list like that can obviously never be objective), but rather just my personal favorites.
My taste in music was heavily influenced by the music that my brother listened to in the ’90s (he’s five years older than me). A lot of the music in this list is from that time period, when my brain was still developing and solidifying. At the time, I didn’t own a lot of music myself since I could just enter his bedroom and listen to something of his. My music preference grew from the music he purchased. Today, I unfortunately am rarely impressed by any new music I hear. It just never seems to hit me in the same way as it did back then.
I set a limit for this list of only one album per artist so that everyone gets an equal chance. The albums will ranked in order of preference, and we’re gonna start at the bottom and go all the way to the top, OK? Let’s go, go, goooooo!!
25.
Regret™ Instruction Manual Issue 1: Questions and Answers for the Insecure Youth by Against Me!
(2001)
Are you familiar with Against Me!, the allegedly-vivacious rock band from Florida? Well, this album isn’t one of theirs. It’s instead by a different Against Me!, a man who normally goes by the name of Stunt Rock. Now that that’s out of the way…
I discovered this album through file-sharing software. I downloaded it based on the track titles alone, not bothering to do any research on the album beforehand. The titles are mostly lengthy; some are amusing, such as “I’m Gonna Fade This Track Out Just Like You Did Our Relationship.” One is called “Tonight, Every Car Is Your Car”–what that means, I have no clue.
So, yeah, it would seem that Stunt Rock has not had the best luck in romantic relationships. All of the songs on this album follow the same formula: lo-fi clips of dialogue sampled from films, which sound as though they were recorded over-the-air using a television set and a cheap microphone, set to lo-fi melody loops and lo-fi, overly-distorted drum loops. The dialogue clips are consistently depressing: movie characters talking about absolute heartache, loneliness, how awful love is, terrible anxiety, how evil women are, et cetera (I still say “Do something useful goddamn!” to myself once in a while). Yes, a lot of tears are shed over the course of this album, but there is humor to be found as well. The record has this strange charm about it. Anyway, Stunt Rock has clearly seen a lot of films, or else really did his research. Myself, I don’t watch a lot of movies but I do recognize some of the dialogue (from such films as Buffalo ’66 and Magnolia).
The best track here is “Community College as a Means to Commit Suicide.” It’s a masterpiece.
24.
Circle by Boom Bip & Doseone
(2000)
I don’t listen to much rap or hip-hop. It’s not that I dislike those genres, per se, but their focus always seems be on the lyrics while the music takes a backseat. I listen to songs in the opposite way: I give attention to the music and usually pay zero mind to any lyrics. That being said, I do enjoy some rap and hip-hop (I typically like productions by Pharrell Williams and Timbaland, for example). Mostly, though, I just find it hard to give proper attention to them.
Circle, however, is not your typical hip-hop album. Every track on it explores separate territory, and, well, a lot of territory is explored over the course of this twenty-nine-track album. Boom Bip–in charge of the music–shows his willingness to try new things. There are short beat-driven tracks, tracks that assume a new identity every thirty seconds, a beat-less track based around the sound of an erratic music box. Doseone, meanwhile, handles the rapping and, er, talking. In some tracks, his voice wanders around as if he’s lost in a daydream. In others, he lectures you like a college professor.
This is an album that’s best listened to as a whole, but there are tracks that stand well on their own. “The Birdcatcher’s Return,” which ends with a wonderful one-minute drum solo, is a favorite. “Ironish” kicks all manners of ass. The instrumental “Town Crier’s Walk” is great, as well.
23.
fig. 5 by Jackie-O Motherfucker
(2000)
“Oh my, what foul language!” (Don’t look at me, I didn’t pick the name.)
You know, I don’t actually remember how I discovered JOMF. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t through my brother or file-sharing software. I never read music reviews, either, at least not to discover new music. Maybe during the very, very brief period I used Pandora Radio? Hmm…
So, yeah, Jackie-O Mofo is more of a “collective” than any sort of “band”…though not like an “Animal Collective,” mind you (which reminds me, I never did get those goddamn adobe slats for my girls!!). I enjoy their music. Your favorite musician, Weyes Blood, was briefly a member of JOMF before she became your favorite musician.
Hey, there’s something about “Analogue Skillet,” fig. 5‘s opening track! Yes, it’s another case of “I really love it but couldn’t tell you the first reason why anytime soon.” It sounds like something that was found in the alien wreckage in Roswell, 1947 (not that I think it was actually “alien wreckage” back then).
“Your Cells Are in Motion,” with its nine-minute evolution, is a great track. I really like “Go Down, Old Hannah,” too. On the other hand, I think the violin-screeching in “Native Einstein” lasts for just a liiiiittle too long (I can’t stand the sound of violins in general). The ten-and-a-half-minute interpretation of “Amazing Grace” is interesting.
22.
Over and Thru the Night by Steve Fisk
(1993)
This isn’t an album but rather a compilation of what I’m guessing are the “best” pieces from the cassette tapes that Steve Fisk released throughout the ’80s.
Fisk has made a name for himself over the years as a musician and record producer, but another side of him is heard in the sound collages he created–Over and Thru the Night compiles nineteen of them. A common sound source for his collages are radio and television broadcasts, which Fisk recorded and then manipulated via tape.
I’d say that “Government Figures” is my favorite track on here. “Topeka Hello” is a classic. “Filthy Young People” is great, too (“When you lay in my arms and you do the things you do????“). There are also two tracks that are both titled “Preamble”–the second one is better.
“One More Valley” has always intrigued me. It’s based around what I’m assuming is a musical performance from a Christian radio broadcast. Sometimes you hear that original broadcast, but it’s interjected with the voice of an unknown man singing a different Christian song off-key. Live guitar, bass, and drums play throughout, but their tempo suddenly severely slows down halfway through the track. It’s an interesting listen.
Fun fact: the first time I heard the track “Lying in Texas” (a nearly-six-minute recording based around a clip of dialogue from the television series Dallas), an episode of Dallas–a show I’ve never watched and never will–was playing on the television set in my bedroom (it occurred during the period where I’d watch television with the sound muted).
21.
Do You Know Who You Are? by Texas Is the Reason
(1996)
This record is so profound when you’re thirteen years old, I’m telling you.
Texas Is the Reason was a four-piece from, no, not Texas, but rather…New York. They were one of a handful of emo bands I listened to growing up. Wait, no, I don’t mean “emo,” as in the throng of kids with Mötley Crüe hair and all-black clothing who you avoid making eye contact with at the mall as you pass by Hot Topic. I mean the original, authentic emo before it became a joke.
Do You Know Who You Are? was the only full-length from the band, and jesus christ I really love it! Holy hell, though, it really needed that remastering in 2013 because the original release sounds like shee-ite. The 1996 edition (which is the one I own) has nine tracks and they’re all pretty wonderful.
“Nickel Wound” is cry-your-eyes-out great, as is “A Jack with One Eye” (a Twin Peaks reference?). There are tracks titled “The Magic Bullet Theory” and “Back and to the Left,” which I believe are both references to the film JFK? Speaking of “Back and to the Left,” it was one of my favorite songs back in the day and I still love it now.
(No, Richard Marx is not the lead singer, OK? He’s a Richard Marx impersonator.)
20.
Escape from Noise by Negativland
(1987)
Negativland is a group of counterculture, fair-use-questioning copyright violators from California who have been releasing music and non-music for the past forty years. A lot of their work is based heavily on sampling and carries a humorous tone. In 1991, their EP U2 incurred the wrath of the Irish band U2’s record label, which caused Negativland to be dropped from their own label (so they started one themselves).
Escape from Noise has a running theme of, “Is there any escape from noise?” I own a few of Negativland’s releases and this one is by far my favorite. The tracks on the album just resonate with me more than anything else I’ve heard from them.
Track 3 on this album!! “Michael Jackson”!! Ohhhhhh, my one, my only… And that’s all that needs to be said about that.
“Nesbitt’s Lime Soda Song”–another highlight of the album–is a seemingly-earnest song driven by acoustic guitar about having to throw out the last can of Nesbitt’s soda when a bee flies into it. I love the playful synthesizer in “Yellow Black and Rectangular,” which I believe was performed by Steve Fisk (see number 22 in this list). “Car Bomb” is crazy but I fucking love it.
19.
Bolides Over Basra by Men’s Recovery Project
(2000)
Hey, so what are “bolides”? No idea…
I suppose that Men’s Recovery Project is something of an acquired taste. Or, I don’t know, maybe you’ll immediately think they’re the greatest thing ever. I was introduced to them through a track titled “This Fascist Kills Guitars” (which, by the way, I still don’t own a copy of to this day) that was included on a music compilation my brother owned. I heard it and thought, “What’s with this song? Who are these men? What is this recovery project of theirs all about? Tell me more.” I was intrigued.
The music of Men’s Recovery Project was mostly varied and never seemed to stay in one place. You may hear a song about goats in the field (and men in the goats), or bizarre music presumably meant for some sort of weird circus performance, or straightforward hardcore very reminiscent of Born Against (a hardcore band that some members of Men’s Recovery Project were previously in), or a telling of a very sad story about a couch that dies from a broken heart (I think the story is fictional…I hope, anyway). They also titled a song, “Avoid Pregnancy During Alcohol,” which is great.
In contrast to their previous work, Bolides Over Basra is a fairly-cohesive album all about direness found in the Middle East. Indeed. What was the spark that led to the recording of this album? No idea… I admittedly am not up on my knowledge of the state of affairs in the Middle East at the time, nor do I wish to be, so a lot of the topics found in the lyrics to these songs go over my head (the “olive salesman,” what?). They thankfully didn’t change up their sound for this record, though, so that means no earnest acoustic-guitar protest songs.
Bolides Over Basra was the final music released by the band before they broke up (due to one member’s asthma, apparently). They had been at work on a follow-up LP, Night Pirate, but that album was scrapped following their dissolution. A couple of tracks from it, however, later ended up on a compilation of their “greatest hits.”
18.
Foo Fighters by Foo Fighters
(1995)
OK, yes, I fully agree with you on that, but my twelve-year-old self would certainly not let me leave this album off this list.
Remember Foo Fighters before they became supreme trash? As in, their debut album, and that’s it? Yeah, that’s some great music right there. If you didn’t know, Dave Grohl played all of the instruments on this album himself, before he had even added any additional members to the band. I guess he should have stayed a solo act…
I actually like Nirvana a hell of a lot more than Foo Fighters (Grohl is from both bands, as you know), but something about this album is calling out to be included in this list. Playing Sega Saturn in my bedroom, riding in the car with my mother to Kmart, fighting my social anxiety…this album was there for it all. I’m also pretty sure it was one of the first CDs I owned myself (back in those days, I would usually just borrow CDs that my brother had in his collection). What’s up with some of these song titles, though? “Oh, George”? “For All the Cows”? For real?
When I was young, “Floaty” was by far my least-favorite song on the record. I still think it’s pretty bad; I associate it with sitting in the car while my mother stands in line at the post office. “Wattershed” was my favorite back in the day, but today I kind of think that honor instead goes to “Good Grief.” “Alone + Easy Target” makes me nostalgic.
One other thing I’ll mention about this album has to do with its lyrics. Twelve-year-old me couldn’t decipher what Grohl was singing, and the lyrics weren’t included in the liner notes. In light of this, I would just interpret the words as best as I could while listening, often substituting in my own words for humorous effect. It was fun (I was only twelve and lyrics actually made an impression on me back then).
This album could really use a remastering, though, damn.
17.
Samurai Math Beats by Bogdan Raczynski
(1999)
In the early ’00s, I paid an eBay seller $30 for a compact disc of this album. It was worth every penny.
Bogdan Raczynski makes electronic music in a style all his own: playful melodies, from what sound like toy synthesizers, set to blisteringly-fast drums and often his own vocals. I believe that when he made Samurai Math Beats, he was homeless (there is a handwritten note on its back cover that reads, “Do not copy this! I need your money!”).
The album’s opening track, “茶夢裸意曽蜜 (サムライ マス ビーツ),” is one of his quintessential songs–it features an active beat with vocals whose lyrics implore you to help Raczynski fight the forces of evil in the galaxy. The beginning of “軟野惰芽迩黙途翻懌咋 (ナン ノ タメ ニ ボク ト ホンヤくシャ)” is Grammy-worthy. “再幺那裸抖堕邏 (サヨウナラ ツタラ)” and “身蘇飴賂 (ミソ シル)” are also standouts.
Something that has always bothered me about Samurai Math Beats is its track order. It has fifteen songs and I think that tracks 14 and 15 should have traded places. “ワイ ワイ‼ (Why? Why?)” would have been the perfect album closer.
16.
Das Audience by The Audience
(1997)
Das Audience had always been an enigma to me. I discovered it through my brother, like a lot of music back in the day. It’s an album by a mysterious (to me at the time) band known as The Audience which was not released through a record label. There used to be next to no information about it on the Internet. It features vocals with indiscernible lyrics and a tinge of Goth, distorted guitars, and great drumming.
The opening track, “Doctor Huh,” evolves from chaos into one of the best moments on the record. The cascading middle section of “Painless Dentistry” is a classic, while “Love a doorframe” features some of my favorite drumming on the album. The middle section of “Barson Stills” is great, too–unstable vocals that grow more frantic until they finally erupt.
I recently discovered that several members of The Audience went on to be in a band called Vue. I was so excited that more music from these folks had been recorded, so I quickly bought two of Vue’s releases, waited for them to arrive in the mail, and then threw them on my music player when they did. I was stunned by what I later heard: extremely-generic, uninspired, instantly-forgettable garbage. I was so disappointed–why they changed their sound that much is beyond me. I will forever be making fun of the Vue track, “Hush Your Head.”
15.
Jawbox by Jawbox
(1996)
OK, so this one is more of a pick from Retro Jeff rather than Current Jeff. I have a clear memory of listening to this album with my brother when it was newly-released. I remember his comment then that they really overdid it on the drums this time.
Jawbox is a band from…Washington, D.C.? Yes, Washington, D.C. This self-titled album was their last release of new music before they went on a long hiatus. Jawbox does somewhat exude an air of superiority but I’ll forgive it (I remember once reading a review of the album that said each track probably only took thirty minutes to write).
This album is really good, though! Its opening two tracks, “Mirrorful” and “Livid,” both earned coveted spots on the mixtape I listened to way too much in the ’90s. “Chinese Fork Tie” later ended up on one of my mix CDs. “Spoiler” might be my favorite track on the record today.
I listened to this album a lot when I was in high school. It was my soundtrack for the bus rides between home and school; my cassette dub would play in my Walkman as I watched the world pass by. High school was also the point I entered the worst depression of my life. Riding home while hearing the chorus to “Capillary Life,” which repeats the phrase “Is it too late to change my mind?,” was not easy. I survived that period, though, and would still gladly listen to this album today.
When you listen to Jawbox, be sure to have your dictionary on hand (I don’t think I’ve ever heard the word “excandescent” used apart from the track on this record).
14.
Burritos, Inspiration Point, Fork Balloon Sports, Cards in the Spokes, Automatic Biographies, Kites, Kung Fu, Trophies, Banana Peels We’ve Slipped on, and Egg Shells We’ve Tippy Toed Over by caP’n Jazz
(1995)
Oh, caP’n Jazz, how we love thee…
I was introduced to this band, as others probably also were, through a two-CD compilation of all of their recorded works titled Analphabetapolothology (a combination of “alphabetical,” “apology,” and “anthology”). Well, every recording except for a track titled “Naive” that was not included for whatever reason. The first twelve tracks of that compilation–their final recordings–are this album in question, and the rest of the songs are not as good.
caP’n Jazz was a band from…somewhere (aka, Illinois), comprised of, what…twelve-or-thirteen-year-olds??? (OK, so I guess they were in their late teens.) They really knew how to throw down the rock (forgive me for that sentence, I need some more alcohol). After caP’n Jazz broke up, its members went on to be in such bands as Joan of Arc and The Promise Ring. Their original lineup later reunited, though, in a band called Owls, and they proved they still were pretty rockin’.
The opening track, “Little League,” is my favorite on this album-with-a-long-title (well, before it gets all screamy, anyway). “Puddle Splashers” and “Oh Messy Life” are also great. There aren’t really any bad tracks on the record. It’s just nice to listen to (Tim Kinsella’s caterwauling grows on you over time, I promise).
Can we also take some time to appreciate the greatness of the lyrics, “I remember her saying, ‘This whole world’s a waste of my time.’ All I could say is, ‘I wish I had something to say'”?
13.
Dots and Loops by Stereolab
(1997)
Stereolab is your grandma’s favorite band. Wait, is your grandma that cool?!? I don’t actually know!!! They are a British band that formed in the early ’90s and occasionally sings in French. Please ask someone else for further details. I’m not their biographer, OK?
I have a few of Stereolab’s releases and Dots and Loops is my favorite by a considerable margin. The album just hits me in a different way than any of the others.
“Brakhage” is an excellent opening to this album. I put “Miss Modular” on a mix CD I once made for my sister. “Diagonals” used to be my favorite song on the record. “Rainbo Conversation,” meanwhile, is a frickin’ amazing track; it’s kind of incredible that its sound existed in the world before it was captured on tape.
12.
Endtroducing… by DJ Shadow
(1996)
“Producing…” (I love that part and I don’t know why.)
DJ Shadow is Josh Davis, a man who loves to scratchy-scratch-scratch vinyl records on his turntables (give me a break, this blog post is lengthy AF). Yes, he is an honest-to-god DJ. I swear, hand on the bible.
Endtroducing… was made from samples of other music, but it doesn’t sound like that other music, OK? (Actually, I think the “It’s the money!” bit was recorded specifically for the album, but I could be mistaken about that.) It’s Davis’ magnum opus. Regarding its title, it meant to indicate an introduction to something that will not last for long. I guess he knew what he was talking about because his follow-up album was much worse.
This is the album you want playing through the car stereo when you’re on a long drive alone at night. Something about it heavily gives off that atmosphere.
“Changeling” might be my favorite track on the album. “Stem/Long Stem” is definitely my least-favorite (it’s the only track I don’t like). “The Number Song” and “Mutual Slump” are both brilliant.
11.
Crom-Tech by Crom-Tech
(1997)
(This is about the self-titled compact disc, not the self-titled 7-inch vinyl or the self-titled 12-inch vinyl.)
Impossibly-fast-and-intricate guitar playing, a drummer doing his damnedest to keep up, and a frantic voice shouting nonsensical syllables over the top of everything, what more do you need, damn it?!
Crom-Tech was a short-lived duo made up of Mick Barr and…the drummer…and, of course, by “the drummer,” I mean Malcolm McDuffie. Yes, we all know Mick Barr, resident guitar wiz. How can he play a guitar so fast?! Furthermore, how does he remember which notes to play and how to sound all of them so perfectly? The world may never know.
This album has twelve tracks and runs for thirteen minutes, so, in case it’s not obvious to you based on that information, every track is very short. I like all twelve of them–they all have a similar sound, yet are surprisingly varied. I’d say my favorite three are “We-Sourize,” “Prux-Norplexoxix,” and “Wemcraftor:Limsniffer.”
When you look at the tracklist for this album, you may be like, “What the fuck?” The titles aren’t in any language known on Earth. If I’m remembering correctly, the lyrics to the songs were also written in this pseudolanguage. I once read an interview with Barr where he discussed writing down lyrics, thinking they were great, and then looking at them the next morning like, “What was I thinking?” Maybe they’re in the same language that the Voynich manuscript uses (hey, ya never know).
I love the brief bits of noise from the guitar amp found at the end of a bunch of these tracks. So great.
10.
Tago Mago by Can
(1971)
When I was in high school, I purchased a compact disc of Tago Mago from an eBay seller (LOL, I guess I used to buy CDs on eBay a lot).
Can was an highly-influential krautrock band you’ve never heard of that hailed from Germany. Well, except they had a Japanese vocalist when this album was recorded. I think they’re really great. I’m glad that recorded music exists because I didn’t during their heyday.
The double album Tago Mago is my favorite release from the band. The opening track, “Paperhouse,” features one of my favorite musical switch-ups. “Oh Yeah” is fantastic. The second half of the album is…interesting. I’ve always thought that the closing track, “Bring Me Coffee or Tea,” is a little too bittersweet.
Can we talk about “Halleluwah,” though? This over-eighteen-minute track features what may be my all-time favorite drumming in recorded music. Seriously, when it reaches the 2:05 mark it’s pure transcendence.
9.
Blonder Tongue Audio Baton by Swirlies
(1993)
Yay, Swirlies!
Swirlies is a band from Massachusetts that loves to dabble in the fuzzy-guitar sound of shoegaze. Do you often find yourself gazing at shoes? Then you’ll love them. Their lineup has changed over the years, and I’d say that their ’90s output is their best work. Blonder Tongue Audio Baton may not be their “greatest” album but it’s my favorite.
“Park the Car by the Side of the Road” is a masterpiece. “Jeremy Parker” is also great. “His Love Just Washed Away,” meanwhile, is my least-favorite song on the album. For whatever reason, “Wrong Tube” is mixed louder/higher/hotter than the other tracks, which I always found rather jarring while riding on the school bus as a youth.
Part of the charm of songs by Swirlies, to me, are their vocals. Band members Damon Tutunjian and Seana Carmody trade off on singing on this record, and the back-and-forth between the male and female voices is so wonderful. Back in the day, I noted that the vocal performances consisted of a lot of vowels and were not trying to impress you. They’re simply singing the lyrics they wrote, which is commendable.
8.
Songs About My Cats by Venetian Snares
(2001)
I can say, without a doubt, that Aaron Funk (the man behind Venetian Snares) has created, not only the most-genius pieces of music I have ever heard, but that I will ever hear in my life–his song “Bent Annick” (which isn’t on this album) is at the top on that list. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care for, well, a lot of his musical output, actually. That album of his based around samples of classical music that everyone goes apeshit for? Absolutely hate that record. When he deigns to, though, when he actually feels like it, he can create some absolutely mind-blowing work.
When you first hear certain songs by Venetian Snares, you may think, “This is just random noise, it’s garbage.” To tell you the truth, being a fan of his already, the first ten-or-so times I heard his track “Langside” (which isn’t on this album, either), I thought, “This is stupid, it’s a waste of three minutes,” but today I’d place it in a top-10 list of my favorite songs from him. What you should know is that the vast majority of his catalogue was created using a type of computer software called a “music tracker.” It’s very manual work and isn’t just random mouse-clicking. The songs did not create themselves, either, they were certainly handcrafted. Believe me, I’ve looooong since been versed in what random noise sounds like, and this ain’t it. (Mr. Funk once shared a blurry, low-resolution photo of his computer screen back in the day which showed something he was working on. The JPEG had the file name “isnoteasy”.) Also, keep in mind that a lot of his music is from the late ’90s/early ’00s, long before there existed any of the bullshit make-my-music-for-me software that all the twelve-year-old influencers use today to earn mad Gs and the seXXXay ladies.
I’ve thought long and hard (LOL, yeah, that’s what she thought, too) about which of his albums I’d call my favorite and have chosen Songs About My Cats. Is it his best work? No, probably not. It has that certain something about it, though (maybe it’s the cats…just give me that album cover on a black t-shirt, please!). Yes, these songs actually are about his cats, and he included their names in the song titles. The first forty seconds of the opening track, “Chinaski,” is the perfect start to the album–it fully lets you know what to expect during the album’s forty-plus minutes. And the two short piano pieces, “Katzesorge Part 1” and “Katzesorge Part 2,” that are essentially identical to each other? Yeah…those two are kind of odd, actually. Some of the other tracks are absolute standouts, though, such as “Poor Kakarookee” and “Fluff Master.” The album as a whole feels unlike any of his other work. It has a playful quality to it, like a hyperactive cat playing with a mouse it had just caught.
Speaking of “Langside,” by the way, why does that word recur in Mr. Funk’s music? It’s found in a few of his songs, and he also had it listed on his Myspace page back in the day as one of his influences. Let’s see here…[please wait, searching Internet]…Venetian Snares is from Winnipeg…Langside is the name of a street in Winnipeg…well, I guess it must be a really great street, then. Case closed.
(The blurb for this album is longer than any of the others? Sorry, it’s the cats.)
7.
Repetition by Unwound
(1996)
My favorite band from the time capsule of Kill Rock Stars during the mid ’90s. (Does that record label exist today? LOL, who knows and who can find out.) There’s something about Justin Trosper’s guitar-playing in the music of Unwound that is instantly recognizable and fully unique to that band. It’s something about the intervals between the notes played, and maybe also the tone of the guitar? Whatever it is, I really dig it.
Unwound’s sound changed over the years and Repetition is a wonderful snapshot of their evolution. This particular album was produced by Steve Fisk (see number 22 in this list). Vern Rumsey’s bass-playing and Sara Lund’s drumming sound so wonderful together here (Sara’s one of my favorite drummers, for sure).
The bass line during the chorus of “Unauthorized Autobiography” is shout-it-from-the-rooftops great. I really love “Devoid,” too. “Fingernails on a Chalkboard” carries a certain allure with it, while “Lady Elect” is great for sobbing your heart out.
“Corpse Pose” is a masterpiece, but I think I listened to it way too often as a kid. Whenever it comes on as I’m listening to songs on my music player, I feel like, “Awwwww, I have to listen to ‘Corpse Pose’ again??” I assume it’s akin to when KISS whips out “Rock and Roll All Nite” during a show of their seventeenth farewell tour.
Leaves Turn Inside You? Yeeeeeah…that one’s OK, I guess…I admittedly haven’t heard it too many times.
6.
Kid A by Radiohead
(2000)
lol u serious bruh
OK, just go with me on this one, this album’s phenomenal. I have a very clear memory of being on the streets of Philadelphia in the year 2000, just after Kid A‘s release, and hearing the song “Kid A” wafting through the air from a nearby coffee shop. I was instantly hooked by this record, even though in my early teens I admit I had to struggle my way through OK Computer the first time (I do now really like that album, too, except for “Exit Music (For a Film)” which is godawful).
This album represents Radiohead at their peak (if you squint really hard, you can juuuust make out the band sitting on top of those mountains in the album cover). “Everything in Its Right Place”? Amazing, such a great start to an album. “Idioteque”? Incredible (I absolutely love the vocals in it). “In Limbo”? Goddamn, give that song a Grammy or two. “Morning Bell”? OK, that one’s garbage, I hate it.
When Kid A was released, I was in my final years of high school. (“Get ready for capitalism, kids!! Hooray!!”) High school, figuratively and quite literally, was dog shit. Yes, actual shit from the dog. I was an INFP with terrible social anxiety, and they’re going to force me to spend hours and hours with these moronic, immature asshole kids all the time?! The ultimate bullshit!! Needless to say, I sank into the worst depression of my life during those years. And I’d listen to Kid A (I growed up good, though, so you needn’t worry).
Excuse me, what? The King of Limbs? A Moon-Shaped Pool? HUH??? Don’t know what the hell those are, don’t ask me about them ever again (if you couldn’t tell by that just now, I don’t really listen to Radiohead anymore).
(On an unrelated note, “Anyone Can Play Guitar”? Bull-fucking-shit they can, Radiohead.)
5.
Electro-Shock for President by Brainiac
(1996)
Electro-Shock for President was my introduction to Brainiac. Unbeknownst to me at the time, it also marked a drastic left turn for their overall sound. Guitars and live drums were replaced with synthesizers and drum machines. Something about it intrigued me as a youngling. Had Brainiac released any music after this EP, I suspect they would have returned to live instruments, but that’s tough to say since they enjoyed switching things up.
I’ve always been intrigued by the opening track here, “Fresh New Eyes.” Its production has a palpable sort of seething, sinister energy that strikes Tim Taylor (Brainiac’s vocalist) whenever it’s almost time to sing the song’s chorus. That faint tone at the very end of the track is something, too…
The middle two tracks of this six-track EP, “Fashion 500” and “The Turnover,” are its weak point. “For My Beloved,” though!! Just forever blast that track everywhere from now on, OK? (Picture closeup nature-show footage of hoards of marching ants as you listen to it.)
This sadly was the final proper release from Brainiac, as Taylor died in a single-car accident not long after. There is a great documentary about the band titled Transmissions After Zero (which is also a title of one of their songs) that is worth a watch.
4.
Millions Now Living Will Never Die by Tortoise
(1996)
Tortoise is a jazzy post-rock band from Chicago that formed in the early ’90s. They were originally known as Mosquito but changed their name very early on. Well, I do like tortoises more than mosquitoes, so wise decision, guys. Their music is mostly instrumental–guitars, vibraphones, drums–with some electronic-leaning tendencies.
Millions Now Living Will Never Die was the first Tortoise release I heard and is still my favorite from the band (TNT is second in that list and also great). There once was a time where I’d kidnap CDs from my brother’s collection, which I’m sure pissed him off greatly, and for a while a loose compact disc of this album lived in my school backpack (it was there for moral support, OK?).
“Glass Museum” is a great track…what, you need more of a description of it than that? “Dear Grandma and Grandpa” is interesting–I used to hate it but have since warmed up to it. “Along the Banks of Rivers” is nice, if not a bit depressing.
Whoa nelly, “Djed,” the opening track. It’s a nearly-twenty-one-minute composition of bliss, divided into movements like a pseudosymphony. This release could’ve contained this track alone and it still would’ve been number four in this list. The section that begins at the 10:27 mark–with the hypnotic organ, driving bass, and vibraphones that glue everything together–is seriously some of the best music I’ve ever heard.
3.
Double Nickels on the Dime by Minutemen
(1984)
How often do you really like every song on an album? Not very often, huh? Well, how about when the album has forty-six freaking songs on it?! Yes, this Minutemen record is that very rare album for me. Well…OK, there is actually one song on it that I don’t like at all–guess which one it is to win a small, digital smiley-face emoji.
Minutemen, great. D. Boon’s death, tragic. OK, I’ll resume writing in full sentences again. The trio held firm to their beliefs and weren’t afraid to get political in their music. Their early output was good, but not fully there yet. On the other hand, their final releases (the “pseudocommercialism” tripe) were store-brand dog food. Double Nickels on the Dime, however, had all of the right pieces fully inserted into the right places. Ohhhh yeah, goes down reeeeeal smooth…
George Hurley is a goddamn-amazing drummer, and he’s in top form here. The tone of D. Boon’s guitar, with its lack of lower frequencies, sounds so good with the bass (Mike Watt, the bassist of the band, has said that Boon’s guitar sounded that way because they wanted the guitar and bass to form a democracy within the band, with the bass handling the lower frequencies of the sound and the guitar the higher).
I’d say that, today, “It’s Expected I’m Gone” is my favorite song on this album. When I was a kid, that honor instead went to “Viet Nam” (a track I severely overplayed back then). “The Glory of Man” is a perfect song, literally perfect. I haven’t researched public opinion on this record but I’d wager that “Untitled Song for Latin America” is one of its most-underrated tracks. “Maybe Partying Will Help” and “Nothing Indeed” are some of my old standbys.
“WOO, JACKASS RULES! YEEEEEEEEAH, STEVE-OHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” Oh, right, “Corona,” the track that the television show Jackass used as its main theme. That song is kind of dopey but I’m sure Minutemen knew that when they recorded it (whenever I listened to it as a kid, I’d be like, “Yeah, we’re at the rodeo now, cowboys!”). Yes, Jackass is also kind of dopey, that’s true (I assume, anyway; I’ve never watched it and will never want to).
2.
Selected Ambient Works Volume II by Aphex Twin
(1994)
This double album was my introduction to Aphex Twin, which I’m guessing is atypical amongst his fans?
The first volume in the Selected Ambient Works series, Selected Ambient Works 85-92, doesn’t actually contain ambient works. No no, don’t even try to tell me that it does, OK? Is the first volume good? It’s alright, not my favorite. Volume II, however, was completely different. There are barely any beats to be heard during its two-and-a-half hour runtime, and most of the tracks are very lengthy. Extremely-repetitive-and-hypnotic synthesizers, microtonal melodies that try to lull you into a trance, nine-minute tracks full of swirls of toneless noise. In other words, very ambient.
Selected Ambient Works Volume II spans two compact discs, or three 12-inch vinyl records. Only one track was given a title using words, “Blue Calx,” because it had been previously released as such. The rest of the tracks have titles, too, but using photographs instead. Fans of the album have since agreed upon unofficial titles for every track: short descriptions in words of what these photographs depict. I admit that I know the album by these unofficial titles since knowing them is easier than having to memorize its running order.
When I first heard Selected Ambient Works Volume II, I was hooked. Those synthesizers had indeed hypnotized me. I have a lot of memories related to the album: trying to do homework for school while listening to #24 and failing miserably, lying face up on my bedroom floor in the pitch black while listening to #25, the list goes on. My favorite tracks are as follows: #3 (which used to be my favorite), #8, #9, #13, #15, #17, #18, #19, #21, and #25 (which is my favorite today).
Holy hell, #5 is disturbing and genuinely scary. It could have served as the score to the final scenes of The Blair Witch Project. (Imagine hearing those extremely-unsettling screams while this track plays? Jeez.)
I had long puzzled over how Aphex Twin, aka Richard D. James, created the unusual sounds that are found in this work. It was made in 1994 using analog gear, after all. I’ve since learned that a recurring technique on the album was to take a recording and slow it down considerably. Some of these tracks, though? I still don’t know how they were made. For example, #15? No clue what I’m hearing in that one (I really love it, though). James is a known gearhead so I’m sure he used some rare pieces of equipment manufactured by unicorns.
Since I’m such a nerd for this album, I can tell you about its various editions. The CD version released in the UK contains one track that was not included on the CD release in the US (I have no idea why, it may have been a mistake), while the vinyl editions contain one track not found on the CD editions (due to time constraints). Also, I’m not sure how widely known this is but there is one other track, certainly from the same sessions as this album, that is included on an Aphex Twin EP titled On (Remixes) (again, it likely wasn’t on the album due to time constraints). Finally, in 2017 an additional track titled “Th1 [Evnslower]” was added to the digital release of the album as its new closing track.
1.
sender/receiver by i am spoonbender
(1998)
(The cover art of my copy of this album has a blue border around the photograph, but whatevs.)
Why have I spent the last two decades of my life making music? This album, that’s why.
I still remember the first time I heard this record. I entered my brother’s bedroom on a nondescript night, pulled a random CD (i.e., sender/receiver) out of a small stack sitting on his loveseat, and later listened to it in bed. I was speechless throughout the entire thing. Later, I dubbed the album to a cassette tape and listened to it every night for…about a month? I could not get enough of it. I also analyzed it thoroughly, naturally.
“sender/receiver? Must be all about good ol’ snail mail, eh?” No, goofus, I think it’s about ESP and things related. Only two of the twelve tracks have any lyrics or vocals, though. i am spoonbender have said that one of the primary rules for their band was “no guitars,” so instead they chose synthesizers. There’s also a lot of live bass and live drums to be heard in this album, as well. Dustin Donaldson, the “visionary” of the band, is a great drummer and had previously played drums in other groups (such as Pansy Division, ooo, so scandalous!). The bass and drums in this album sound soooooo motherlovin’ good together, let me tell you. A Macintosh computer was also an important part of this record.
I’ve decided that the first track on the album, “reality dealer,” is my favorite, but I don’t understand what’s being said in its opening seconds (“Chair call attention commando…[beeeeep]”). The second section of the closing track, “mr. knife, miss fork,” is definitely my all-time favorite piece of recorded music ever. I used to be blown away by the track “slow metal fires”: how did they make that sound? After being versed in music production, I learned it’s rather trivial to achieve but I still think it’s awesome. “the teeth’s loan & trust co.” is a jam. The four-second track of silence, “parenthetical [title],” is…a four-second track of silence. The first half of the album is better than the second, but its whole is greater than the sum of its two halves.
If I may be allowed to go on a tangent about the history of i am spoonbender for a bit, the follow-up LP to sender/receiver was first announced as a DVD with full visuals to go with every song (hey, I want to do that!). The album was subsequently delayed, and I think they also had problems with the record label they were going to release it through? (Whichever label it happened to be at the time, they moved around among different ones.) It was eventually released, quite a while later, as a free audio-only download on the Internet, which was admittedly quite a letdown for me (I wanted that DVD, damn it!). Except…they did also release a compact-disc version of it that was packaged in an oversized outer sleeve meant to hold a twelve-inch piece of vinyl (I own that version…I store it with my vinyl, not my compact discs). This second record, originally titled Hidden Persuaders and then slightly renamed to Buy Hidden Persuaders, was all about advertisements and their psychology–a topic that has always made me very, very angry–so I, uh, kinda didn’t like the album as much as sender/receiver. It is allegedly filled with subliminal messages, just like real advertisements! (Oh yeah, gotta make that money!) i am spoonbender had said that they used techniques such as taking a recording of spoken dialogue, time-stretching it until it was completely unintelligible, and then pitch-shifting that to the notes of a melody in a song, things of that nature (so just listen to it as you’re sleeping and you’ll lose weight and become fluent in Chinese, virtually risk-free!).
I’ve since done some Internet sleuthing and learned that the two primary members of i am spoonbender have now exiled themselves to Egypt, study the ancient history of that country, and will probably never make any more music. Yes, I’m serious. There had been talk in 2006 of an album-in-the-works that ended up never being released. Its title was something like Epundra Sunundra or Phunundra Ehundra or…I don’t know (it probably was all about Egypt, so typical of them!!). A track list or any other details about it were never shared. Sucks to be us.
And thus, finally, we reach the conclusion of a very-lengthy list of my top 25 favorite albums (and non-albums) of all-time. OH, SHIT!! I forgot about Post Malone! OK, I’m now putting whatever his latest drivel is at number zero. CONGRATULATIONS, POST!! THE BUD LIGHT’S ON ME!!
(I am also putting together a list of my favorite songs of all-time, so look for another lengthy blog entry in the future.)
