I realized as I was writing up that I was splitting up ten albums a week into two blog posts. So why not combine the ten records in one post? Well, that’s exactly what I’m going to do from here on out. And where are we (that’s the royal “we”) at this point? Still in the high 400s, but slowly making my way through this list. This time out, the records featured are no less diverse than the last group, but I found this experience more enjoyable. The mix of styles wasn’t as jarring as I expected. But — as has been the case throughout this journey — there are some albums that really surprised me with the quality of the writing and the production. So, with that, here we go with another round of The Greatest Albums of All Time.
I know that Miranda Lambert is a country superstar. I also know that she was married to Blake Sheldon. Divorced. Dated a couple of guys. Got married again in 2019 to a cop. That’s a lot of heartbreak, heartache, and heart is full material. The Weight Of These Wing from 2016 is her divorce — and then I found love — album. Certainly, Lambert deserves a lot of credit for making a commercial and critical hit out of some very personal material. But sometimes that’s what it takes to connect a listener to an artist. Taylor Swift comes to mind as someone who routinely mines her past relationships for fresh material. However, unlike Swift, Lambert has crafted a record that has a country flavor — but is more rock/pop in execution and production. “Runnin’ Just In Case” has a lot of power in the music (which is really atmospheric for a country record) which creates a heavy foundation for Lambert’s (almost) helium-pitched, twangy vocal style. It’s by far my favorite track on the record — out of the 26 that make up this massive collection of songs grouped into two themes: The Nerve and The Heart. I’m not a fan of country music, but I am a fan of good songwriting and production. The Weight Of These Wings has both.
Shot down in the prime of her life, Selena’s untimely death by her former manager was tragic. However, the music she made has endured and inspired a number of performers. And it’s no wonder. She had a wonderful voice and used it in ways to express emotions that — ever for non-Spanish speakers — cut right to the heart. I have no idea what she’s singing about on these songs (well, until used Google Translate on some of the titles), but when I first listened to this record I was on a run and it made my morning workout. The production is a little cheesy at times (like on “Cobarde”) with it’s Love Boat-like feel. But for a rock/new wave guy like me, the real surprise was “Fotos y Recuerdos” — which uses the music from “Back On The Chain Gang” by the Pretenders heavily. Overall, I really liked this record and will likely buy it to have it in my collection.
In a way, Something Else by The Kinks could be seen as a poor man’s Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Stylistically, The Kinks explore many styles of music like The Beatles did in 1967. Production-wise, however, Ray Davies was in over his head manning the boards for this album. The songs are okay if you like “the softer side of The Kinks,” but the tone of the album lacks any kind of fullness of sound. The record sounds like AM stereo — which as one radio engineer explained to me, “AM stereo is the same shitty sound on not one but two channels.” But Something Else has the classic “Waterloo Sunset” and the jaunty “David Watts.” Overall, not the best effort by The Kinks and, for me, kind of a head-scratcher to be included in this list of greatest albums.
Chester Arthur Burnett, aka Howlin’ Wolf’s 1959 debut album is unlike anything from the era. Sure Muddy Waters could be brought up as a counterpoint, but Wolf’s voice alone makes him a unique character. There’s something sinister, alluring, and soulful about the way he sings that gives the songs a timeless quality. Sure this is a Chicago blues album — and an iconic one at that. But everything about it has a certain aesthetic makes its grittiness a welcome alternative to slick and clean production techniques. And I say this as someone who is pretty fussy about clean and aurally dynamic album productions. If you’re looking for a record to transform your mood, put on Moanin’ in the Moonlight while driving alone on a back road — at night. And make sure to play it loud.
My knowledge of the Sparks’ music was confined to a single they made with Jane Weidlin of the Go-Go’s called “Cool Places.” That song was played on MTV quite a lot back in the day, so when I saw Kimono My House by Sparks on the list, I was curious about what their other songs sounded like. Well, this 1974 album is stylistically quite different from their 1983 single. Indeed, the first song “The Town Ain’t Big Enough For The Both Of Us” is noted for two things: 1. Lead singer Russell Mael sounds awfully a lot like a woman. 2. I hear a lot of Kate Bush’s early sound in this song. I don’t know if Bush was a fan of Sparks, but her music certainly owes something to what they created on this record. For an album that came out in ’74, it’s truly ahead of its time — which is probably why it didn’t sell many copies. However, if you can keep an open mind, you’ll soon feel its charms. Maybe “charms” isn’t the right word — it’s more experimental than charming. I’ll admit that I didn’t care for the record when I first heard it, but I went back and listened to it again, and have become a fan of what this duo from L.A. (who relocated to the U.K. to catch the glam rock wave) wrought in this quirky and groundbreaking album.
Second albums are tough enough without having to withstand a breakup with your former musical partners — which is what happened when Crow split with the Tuesday Night Music Club. However, there was no sophomore slump with this 1996 release that Crow wrote and produced almost entirely by herself. It’s certainly a stronger record than her debut, and that’s probably due to the fact that most of the words and music are hers — something that wasn’t the case when she claimed the song “Leaving Las Vegas” was autobiographical. Taking the biggest songs on the record off the table for a moment, how does the rest of the album stack up? Not too shabby. Oddly enough, I’m more partial to Crow’s third album, The Globe Sessions because of the stylistic changes and production techniques used. However, there’s no denying that Crow bucked the odds and created an album that has held up well over the decades.
Engaging in more than a little bravado — or just marking time — Big Star titled their 1972 debut #1 Record. The critical response to the album was very positive and it probably would have been part of more record collections had their label been able to get more copies in record stores. Alex Chilton and Chris Bell trade lead vocals on their collaborations that are drenched in tasteful guitar work, solid melodies, and good vocal phrasings. It has all the hallmarks of a number one record for that era, but sadly, the it languished for reasons mentioned above. I would venture to guess that Big Star still evokes a kind of “Huh? Who?” from the music-buying public. However, if there’s an album that went on to influence a host of guitar-based modern/alternative rock acts in the ’80s, it’s #1 Record. And if that style of music is your thing, you should have this in your collection.
A former co-worker of mine said to me that rock music is now Dad Rock because it’s no longer dangerous to The Powers That Be. I added that hip-hop has taken rock’s place in the dangerous category, but really only for hip-hop in the golden era. Well, maybe Daddy Yankee is trying to keep that rebellious/dangerous spirit alive with his devotion to reggaeton craze of the late ’90s. Because I don’t speak Spanish, I have no idea what Daddy Yankee is rapping about most of the time. The record has an aggressive feel, but no more (or less) than other hip-hop acts. However, as I’ve written before, hip-hop is not really my thing. So while Daddy Yankee has some good songs on Barrio Fino, it’s difficult for me to connect with them because, well, music is subjective — and I’m old.
Solána Rowe, aka SZA, has a wonderful voice. Her debut album Ctrl came out in 2017, and she worked, reworked, and re-reworked this album before her label said, “You know, just send us the files and we’ll finish it.” Sometimes an artist can lose perspective when mired in editing and mixing. A fresh pair of ears divorced from the process is needed to add perspective and a kind of objectivity. That was certainly the case on Ctrl, and it’s a good thing it happened — or else we wouldn’t have gotten such a strong debut. SZA had some help from heavy-hitters like Kendrick Lemar and old-timer, Justin Timberlake. The album has a nice mix of styles that run the gamut from hip-hop, soul, and pop. The combination makes it a diverse listening experience — something that’s often lacking in contemporary pop these days. But on a positive note, this record helped me believe that pop and soul music can find its way out of a wall of sound-alikes that’s sucking up most of the oxygen these days.
I’m a guy who fell in love with San Francisco from an early age, so I get territorial and defensive about people slagging The City. Jefferson Airplane is certainly a band that embodies a San Francisco sound — but from a particular era. There’s no denying the staying power of songs like “Somebody to Love” or “White Rabbit,” but there’s something about Surrealistic Pillow that leaves me cold. I don’t know if it’s the use of folk styles that lend itself to self-importance, or the psychedelic harmonies that make me feel like I’m hearing a Godspell soundtrack. But there’s a level of oozy earnestness that pervades in track after track. It rubs me the wrong way — and I feel like a classic rock heretic for saying so.
