Yep, we’ve made a list. Two separate lists, actually, so the above graphic is a bit misleading. Accounting for the limited overlap in Todd’s and Chris’ lists, it’s more like the top 174 or something like that.
Anyway, after months of scientific analysis, hours of listening and re-listening to albums from years gone by, we have arrived at a definitive list of the top albums ever recorded. Our research is not open to interpretation, but you’re more than welcome to complain about the fact that your favorite albums aren’t on this list; we’ll simply respond by telling you that your favorite records aren’t really all that good.
We’ve reached the really good stuff: our top 10s. We’ll roll these out one per day (Monday-Friday) over the next two weeks, reaching #1 on Friday, Dec. 14. The following week, we’ll unveil our favorite music from 2012.
Let’s get on with it…
Chris’ and Todd’s #6: Nirvana, Nevermind
(click play button below to sample this album)
That’s right. Chris and Todd both had Nevermind ranked #6. This was not planned. Each of us was tasked to make a top 100 list and Nevermind was the only one that landed in the same spot on both lists. The International Blogging Syndicate, or I.B.S., which governs the content of all blog entries, found out about our happy coincidence and decided to investigate our lists and ask a few questions about Nevermind‘s influence in our lives. Here is the transcript of that interview.
I.B.S.: You both had Nevermind at #6. Where there any other albums that came close to the same spot? Any near misses if you will?
MoSS? Chris: Surfer Rosa and Violator were one spot away on our lists. Unrelated: Surfer Rosa has boobs on the cover.
I.B.S.: How many albums actually appear on both lists?
MoSS? Todd: 26…and while we had one match and some near misses, a couple of them had a pretty wide gulf between them. Tricky’s Maxinquaye made both lists, but 72 spots apart. You’ll see another 72-spot gap before this countdown is over.
I.B.S.: What were your requirements for inclusion in the list?
MoSS? Chris: Stuff had to be awesome and/or sweet. Or Counting Crows! Ha ha, Todd!
MoSS? Todd: (Points at Chris) He really is a dick.
I.B.S.: So why not just have 10 Cure or Prince albums listed and call it good?
MoSS? Todd: We limited the number of albums per artist at five. Chris took The Cure to the limit with five inclusions. I wanted to list all five Pixies albums but felt inclusion of other artists was more important, I ultimately went with my favorite three. Same with Prince: I chose only four in order to get more variety in my list.
MoSS? Chris: I did hit my five with The Cure; I did not have a sixth in my 100, though. And yeah, my top 25 is pretty Cure-heavy, but they don’t show up again until #92.
I.B.S.: Any albums you were surprised were not included on the other’s list?
MoSS? Chris: I don’t know…kinda surprised by the absence of anything by Take That and/or Bros.
MoSS? Todd: I was certain there would be at least one Journey album on Chris’ list. I think he has a man crush on Steve Perry.
I.B.S.: Any inclusions you wish you could change?
MoSS? Todd: That Bjork selection is looking a bit suspect right now. I never listen to that record anymore.
MoSS? Chris: I probably low-balled Sigur Ros’ ( ) at #16, to be honest. The Joshua Tree probably should have been higher too. The Hooray for Earth album probably is overrated in the top 100.
I.B.S.: Is it easier to write about an album you love or album you hate?
MoSS? Todd: It depends on the level of hatred I have for the record. If the album has Don Henley involved in any way shape or form, I can barf out insults all day long. If the record is only slightly annoying, like say Boston, I’d have a harder time. On the other hand, I can love a record but have nothing to say about it other than it sounds real real good.
MoSS? Chris: The ones you hate. The ones you love, you want to respect the shit out of them, so it’s harder to get the words just right, to get them to convey your true admiration. But anyone can write “Linkin Park? More like Stinkin’ Park!!!” and get his point across. (Makes note on legal pad to recycle that Stinkin’ Park bit in a future rant)
I.B.S.: So Nevermind. What is the first memory you have of that record?
MoSS? Chris: Listening to it with my friend Jeff and practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. Looking at the CD booklet photos and seeing some scurvy dude flipping me off, and some dude who looks like Andy Kaufman. I really liked “On a Plain” a lot on first listen. I put this album on one side of a blank tape and Smashing Pumpkins’ Gish on the other. It was the best tape ever. I suppose that was more than one memory…
MoSS? Todd: Some friends and I were hanging out and we were watching a vhs recording of the past weeks episode of 120 Minutes, an MTV show that played alternative music videos. The “Smells Like Teen Spirit” video came on and everyone just sort of stopped and stared. I think we rewound that tape six or seven times. It’s the first time I remember being in a group of people and everyone being agreement that we were witnessing something special.
I.B.S.: Had you heard of Nirvana before “Teen Spirit”?
MoSS? Todd: Other than searching for my own form of “sexual nirvana”, no.
MoSS? Chris: Manic Nirvana by Robert Plant. “Tie Dye on the Highway”!
I.B.S.: Favorite song?
MoSS? Chris: “In Bloom”
MoSS? Todd: “Lounge Act”
I.B.S.: Worst thing about the album?
MoSS? Todd: I fucking hate the lead- in to “Territorial Pissings.”
Yep, we’ve made a list. Two separate lists, actually, so the above graphic is a bit misleading. Accounting for the limited overlap in Todd’s and Chris’ lists, it’s more like the top 174 or something like that.
Anyway, after months of scientific analysis, hours of listening and re-listening to albums from years gone by, we have arrived at a definitive list of the top albums ever recorded. Our research is not open to interpretation, but you’re more than welcome to complain about the fact that your favorite albums aren’t on this list; we’ll simply respond by telling you that your favorite records aren’t really all that good.
We’ve reached the really good stuff: our top 10s. We’ll roll these out one per day (Monday-Friday) over the next two weeks, reaching #1 on Friday, Dec. 14. The following week, we’ll unveil our favorite music from 2012.
Let’s get on with it…
Chris’ #7: Smashing Pumpkins, Siamese Dream
(click play button below to sample this album)
I geeked out over Gish, as I documented 10 spots ago in this countdown. As a result, some dangerous expectations were set for the sophomore record, which came out two years later, in 1993. Would I be cringing upon first listen?
The opening drum roll of “Cherub Rock” hooked me. The addition of each instrument a little bit at a time built the suspense. By the time we got to the guitar solo, I was celebrating. And by song’s end, I was screaming “LET ME OUT” right along with Billy.
As much as I liked Gish, Siamese Dream took Smashing Pumpkins to a new level. Like “Hey, The Cure, you’re losing your spot on the perch of my favorite bands list” level of devotion.
Because of my fanaticism, I feel I should pen the following letter.
Dear College Roommate of 1993-94:
I’m sorry I killed such an awesome album. Seriously. Toward the end of our cohabitation period, I’m pretty sure you wanted to “Disarm” our stereo, because all I ever listened to that year was Siamese Dream. You would wake up, thinking maybe, possibly I would be listening to something else, but no, “Today” was like every other day. I’m sure you thought I was a loser, a real “Geek U.S.A.” of sorts. Can’t our speakers enjoy some peace and “Quiet,” or at least some Mr. Bungle, you probably wondered.
At one point, I’m sure you shared my opinion that these songs were the musical equivalent to a “Hummer,” but after 1,000 listens, you probably wanted to put me on a “Rocket” that was heading straight for the “Luna,” turning me into a “Spaceboy” of sorts. And those times when I actually went to class, thereby relenting control of the stereo, I’m sure those moments were “Sweet Sweet” relief.
I hope you have been able to enjoy this album in the years since we shared a dorm room. I also hope I didn’t ruin “Mayonaise” [sic] for you when you made trips to your local deli for a bite to eat.
Sincerely,
Chris
P.S.: Since I couldn’t work these song titles into the letter, “Cherub Rock,” “Soma,” and “Silverfuck.”
cc: Most everyone else I knew during this time
I know I should say great things about this album—there is plenty to say—but I am sure somebody you know (ahem) will handle that at some point between now and the end of time. Just know that in the wake of Siamese Dream, the following actions and thoughts took place:
I thought it would be cool to name my firstborn son William Corgan Clair. (My son’s middle name is NOT Corgan, in case you were wondering.)
The lone time I adorned my car with a bumper sticker, the sticker was a “Smashing Pumpkins/Siamese Dream” promo.
The one time I thought about getting a tattoo, I was going to get the “SP” heart logo (which would have been easier to justify if I had fallen in love with Hart to Hart actress Stephanie Powers or something).
Bottom line: even with the alt-rock revolution of the early ’90s long in the rear view mirror, Siamese Dream remains an album that delivers amazing, heartfelt RAWK time and time again.
Todd’s #7: The Clash, London Calling
(click play button below to sample this album)
I was first exposed to The Clash, like a lot of people my age who just missed out on the early punk era, with the song “Rock the Casbah.” I saw the video on an HBO show called Video Jukebox. They played a few choice videos in between showings of Chariots of Fire and The Nude Bomb, the only movies that ever seemed to be on HBO when I was a kid. On this particular episode, they played the videos for Dexy’s Midnight Runner’s “Come On Eileen”, Eurythmics’ “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)”, and The Clash’s “Rock the Casbah”. Quite a collection of early ‘80s gems there. The thing that I noticed most about The Clash video (other than Mick’s weird camouflage facemask thingy) was the lead singer’s voice*. It was unlike anything I’d heard before, he had a real gravely sound and seemed like he really needed to clear his throat. Every line delivered was a struggle and he seemed so full of anger. I won’t say that I liked The Clash from the start, but they definitely stuck in my head.
[*I have this ongoing debate about which singer’s voice I would most like to have if I could somehow magically steal it. My decision usually comes down to Joe Strummer of The Clash or Peter Gabriel (another unique voice, rough like Joe Strummers but his seems more effortless). It’s always a toss up. Gabriel wins every time I hear the song “Solisbury Hill.” Strummer wins the debate every time I listen to the song “Clampdown”off of London Calling. Once in my life I’d like to sing like he does on the post-bridge chorus of that song. I’ve driven my wife crazy with frequent spins of “Clampdown.” It’s one of my favorites of all time (seems like I write those words a lot, there’s just a lot of great tunes in the world) and I listen to music a bit obsessively. She always complains when it first comes on but she almost always says “Yeah, that’s a pretty f’ing good song” once it’s finished. I must have her properly brainwashed by now.]
I was later re-introduced to The Clash when a borrowed the greatest hits album, Story of the Clash from a friend. I was already familiar with songs like “Should I Stay, or Should I Go” and the aforementioned “Rock the Casbah” but I really enjoyed most of the other tunes on it too. So, I went to the record store to by a copy for myself. While perusing The Clash CDs, I noticed most of my favorite songs from Story where on London Calling so I bought that instead. It turned out to be the right move.
The Clash are considered punk rock royalty but London Calling is far from a punk record. When listening now, I don’t really hear much of the punk sound from their earlier releases at all. There are hints of reggae, ska, ‘60s pop, rock-a-billy (Normally that last one would turn me off, but The Clash make it sound good, not like the fucking Stray Cats or something) and regular old rock. The more rock heavy songs actually seem more on par with what Bruce Springsteen or Elvis Costello were doing in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s than Sex Pistols or Ramones type punk. Their live show may have been a different story, I’ve seen footage from their shows and the London Calling songs aren’t nearly as polished as they are on the album.
London Calling was originally a double album so there are quite a few songs on it, but I rarely skip any of them. I think it’s the variety of genres that makes it interesting for me. Sometimes a record can drag and you just skip to the A+ material instead of hang around for the whole thing. Today’s technology makes it even easier to weed out bullshit album filler songs so I appreciate an album like London Calling even more. There’s nothing like pressing play and losing yourself in the music for an hour or so. The best part of my day at work today was listening to all 18 songs with my crappy ear buds turned up to 11. It took all of my will power not to sing along to “Train in Vain.” The people in the cubicles around probably wouldn’t have enjoyed that too much. Much like unleashing potent flatulence, that kind of thing is generally frowned upon in the office.
Yep, we’ve made a list. Two separate lists, actually, so the above graphic is a bit misleading. Accounting for the limited overlap in Todd’s and Chris’ lists, it’s more like the top 174 or something like that.
Anyway, after months of scientific analysis, hours of listening and re-listening to albums from years gone by, we have arrived at a definitive list of the top albums ever recorded. Our research is not open to interpretation, but you’re more than welcome to complain about the fact that your favorite albums aren’t on this list; we’ll simply respond by telling you that your favorite records aren’t really all that good.
We’ve reached the really good stuff: our top 10s. We’ll roll these out one per day (Monday-Friday) over the next two weeks, reaching #1 on Friday, Dec. 14. The following week, we’ll unveil our favorite music from 2012.
Let’s get on with it…
Chris’ #8: Public Enemy, It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back
(click play button below to sample this album)
While most people know It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back as Public Enemy’s second album and the NYC group’s breakthrough collection, it should have been known as the soundtrack of the greatest basketball film never made, Five White Dudes Ranging in Age From 12 to 43 Ball It Up on a Slanted Driveway. Because me, my brother, my dad, and the Brothers Schneden used to play hoops in the Clair family driveway all the damn time in 1989-90, and P.E. is all we ever listened to while ballin’.
The teams were constant during the driveway wars: me and Younger Brother Schneden vs. my brother, Elder Brother Schneden, and my dad, whose nickname to this day is Ed Nealy. (When Michael Jordan came back to the NBA for his second stint with the Bulls, he wore Ed Nealy’s number. It had to be pure coincidence.) It seems unfair that the team with the elder statesman and the elder Brother Schneden also got a third member, but it speaks to the explosive offensive potential found on Team Chris/Younger Brother Schneden.
Elder Brother Schneden was never afraid to make the extra pass to help out his teammates, and could occasionally channel Derrick Coleman (considering the timeframe, that’s a compliment) and be the triple-threat power forward on the pavement. My brother was known to spot up on the left baseline corner and pop the side shot with assassin-like precision. His baseline shot was soon dubbed “The Perfect Shot.” He was only 12, but he was aided by the fact that our driveway sloped downward, and the hoop was situated about halfway down the driveway, so where he was shooting from, the hoop was probably about 9 feet off the ground; conversely, you never wanted to shoot from long distance near the road, because the rim was a good 11 feet off the ground at that point. Another element of The Perfect Shot: our garage had a light with a globe-like glass fixture right above where my brother would shoot The Perfect Shot. Nobody wanted to block my brother’s shot into the fixture and have it shatter, lest you want to answer to Mrs. Ed Nealy.
Leave Nealy open here, mark two points.
And then you had Ed Nealy, who had three money spots on the concrete and a secret mantra to make his other shots go in. First, let’s diagram the money-shot locations:
The free-throw line: Nealy shot the 15-footer with success rates rivaling the best pros in the Association. If he was at the top of the key, you better get a hand in his face before he gets near the stripe.
“The Oil Spot”: Likely created by our piece of shit family truckster (the powder blue with faux wood panel Caprice Classic station wagon), the Oil Spot was similar in distance to the free throw, only from the left elbow of the lane. Get my dad the ball at the Oil Spot, and he’ll score like, um, a well-oiled machine.
“The Bermuda Triangle”: There was a triangle-shaped crack pattern a little closer to the hoop than the Oil Spot. If Ed Nealy was able to get himself to the Bermuda Triangle, forget about it, because the Bermuda Triangle “is the place where defenders disappear.” (The shit-talk on the driveway was pretty tame in terms of profanity, at least this stuff from Ed Nealy, but you hear these cute/corny lines enough times, you are driven in-fucking-sane.)
And even if you manage to defend these money spots, Ed Nealy would pull out the secret weapon:
“Hoosiers!”
When he would shoot, he would yell out “Hoosiers!” just before releasing the ball, and 98.432924% of the time it would go in, no matter where he was at on the driveway. (Yes, this vocal trick entered his arsenal after seeing the Gene Hackman movie.) It was stupid, and he cracked himself up with that stuff, which drove me and the Younger Brother Schneden crazy.
What you must realize is that the Legend of Ed Nealy knows few limits. This is a guy who made a hook shot from his truck as he backed out of the driveway on the first try. And not some layup of a hook shot, either; he was back-tires-on-the-street distance as he hit nothing but net. This is also a guy who to this day, in his mid-sixties, still goes to the local gym and plays hoops on occasion. He told me that he played hoops with my buddy Lee one time, but Lee didn’t come back after that initial visit. When I asked Lee about it, he said (jokingly?) “Your dad never let me shoot!”
So I asked Ed Nealy about this; his response was classic Ed Nealy: “Well, I let him set some screens for me.”
So how did the Younger Brother Schneden and I hang with Team Ed Nealy? Well, part of it was that Younger Brother Schneden and I were both pretty decent ballers ourselves, with quicker first steps and good outside shots, especially me from beyond the arc. And Younger Brother Schneden was pretty good at driving the lane and drawing fouls on his elder brother or Ed Nealy; he would yell out “I got one!” whenever he took it to the hoop and felt contact, extending our possessions time and again or scoring two on the continuation play.
But I think Ed Nealy’s kryptonite was Public Enemy. He’d be frowning at the language on display in “Terminator X to the Edge of Panic” and we’d take that opportunity to bury a J from downtown or drive to the hoop and lay one in. Or “Bring the Noise” would kick off with one of many of Flav’s “YEEEEAAAAAHHHH BOYYYYYEEEEEEEEE” exclamations, and we’d find our second wind (we played to 100 every time, so we’d actually get tired). And then “Show ‘Em Whatcha Got” would come on, with the sax blaring and the woman repeating the title phrase, and I’d get in the zone and show Ed Nealy what I got.
It’s really nice that I have these memories attached to the greatest rap album ever made…not that the album needs the external positives. The innovative sounds created by the Bomb Squad gave this album the sonic boom to match the intensity of Chuck D’s delivery. (Side note: the Mission Creek Festival brought Chuck and the Bomb Squad to Iowa City in 2010 for a panel discussion about the techniques used on this album; it was a fascinating conversation.) Listen to Chuck bring it on tracks like “Louder Than a Bomb” or “Prophets of Rage” and feel the hair stand up on the arm. He flows effortlessly on “Bring the Noise” and “Rebel Without a Pause” and “Don’t Believe the Hype.” And then Flav…he does his thing well on “Cold Lampin’ with Flavor” and chimes in with some of the most memorable lines of his career on “She Watch Channel Zero?!”, the song that samples Slayer’s “Angel of Death” and matches the power of that riff with the beats and rhymes. Even the little interludes like the aforementioned “Show ‘Em Whatcha Got” and “Mind Terrorist” and “Security of the First World” (the last providing the beat for Madonna’s “Justify My Love”) are solid.
When I was home for Thanksgiving this year, I saw that the driveway basketball hoop was gone, a nearby tree grown to the point that it pushed the hoop out of its home some years ago. But I’ll always have memories of hoops and P.E. Plus, thanks to my friend Shannon visiting our place numerous times with his leaky Mustang convertible, the Oil Spot will live forever.
Todd’s #8: Dr. Dre, The Chronic
(click play button below to sample this album)
One, two, three and to the fo’ Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Dre is at the do’ Ready to make an entrance, so back on up Cause you know we ’bout to rip shit up
That was maybe the best opening in rap history. It got you ready for that seamless back and forth between Dre and Snoop. Snoop was the perfect complement to Dre’s more straight forward style and a big reason why The Chronic crossed over with more mainstream listeners. He was just making a name for himself and had one of the most original deliveries I’d ever heard. His easy flow kind of reminded me of a slowed down version of Slick Rick. Here’s a video of my favorite Slick Rick song if you are unfamiliar with him. See if you hear the similarities too.
The Chronic is the only album in my top 10 that I can only play after hours. I rarely get to listen to it because most of it is just plain filthy. I actually waited until the kids went to bed to write this because I like to listen to the album I’m writing about for inspiration. I’m holed up in the basement typing and checking over my shoulder for eavesdropping kiddos. It’s like they know when I am listening to something I don’t want them to hear. My daughter can read now and that’s a whole other issue. I don’t want her looking at the screen and reading song titles like “Deeez Nuuuts”, “Fuck wit Dre”, and “Lyrical Gangbang”? Then you have to answer questions like “Daddy, what does ‘Pimpin’ ho’s and clockin’ the grip’ mean?” I also don’t want them coming in while I’m singing the lyrics from “Bitches Ain’t Shit”
I once had a bitch named Mandy May Used to be up in them guts like everyday The pussy was the bomb, had a n**** unsprung I was in love like a motherfucker lickin’ the pearl tongue
Snoop Doggy Dogg was a real muthafuckin’ wordsmith back then wasn’t he? That was two name changes ago though. Now he hangs with Rastafarians, goes by Snoop Lion and makes “The Ragoo” music. I don’t blame him for going a different direction, the current state of rap is well…crap.
If you look at the rap albums in Chris and my lists, you will notice a distinct pattern. It’s either Beastie Boys, which fits in with our more alternative listening habits, or early ‘90s rap. (I don’t count the Danger Mouse record Chris listed. He had to mix it with The Beatles White Album to make that Jay-Z shit even remotely palatable) There are a few bright spots. Some of the new crop of guys is ok. I liked the solo stuff from Heems. (Look for more solo stuff because it appears as though Das Racist has broken up) What I’ve heard from that kid Earl Sweatshirt is good but he needs to release more music. Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire has one of the best free style videos I’ve seen but most of today’s rap is lost on me. Check out the Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire clip below. It’s pretty cool. His entourage yells out topics and he freestyles on that until a new one is tossed out. He performs in a strip club and has two of the clubs employees booty shake along to his rhymes so probably NSFW.
But, uh, back to the lecture at hand
The Chronic was another one of those albums that everyone seemed to have. Even the dudes that didn’t really listen to rap had this one. In high school we all used to hang out at one of the local parks. At least until the police disbanded us or hauled a few people away for underage drinking. The required way to enter that park was to cruise in with the bass on your stereo turned up as loud as it would go. Apparently, you had to prove you had the woofers to hang out there. Either that or it was some odd experiment to try and create the mythical “Brown Note”; that frequency in which you get the human colon to spontaneously release its entire stockpile of excrement. For a period of time, nearly every car rolled in playing music from The Chronic. I’ll admit I did it too. My song was “Let me Ride”. A fine choice in my book. It has a one of the best beats to cruise to. Dre uses a sweet sample from the P-Funk song “Mothership Connection.” The only problem was I was rolling in a Ford Escort and not…
Rollin in my six-fo’
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride hell yeah Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
Oh crap! I hear one of the kids coming. I better end this. Don’t want to have to explain what a “skeezer” is to my five year old.
Yep, we’ve made a list. Two separate lists, actually, so the above graphic is a bit misleading. Accounting for the limited overlap in Todd’s and Chris’ lists, it’s more like the top 174 or something like that.
Anyway, after months of scientific analysis, hours of listening and re-listening to albums from years gone by, we have arrived at a definitive list of the top albums ever recorded. Our research is not open to interpretation, but you’re more than welcome to complain about the fact that your favorite albums aren’t on this list; we’ll simply respond by telling you that your favorite records aren’t really all that good.
We’ve reached the really good stuff: our top 10s. We’ll roll these out one per day (Monday-Friday) over the next two weeks, reaching #1 on Friday, Dec. 14. The following week, we’ll unveil our favorite music from 2012.
Let’s get on with it…
Chris’ #9: Duran Duran, Rio
(click play button below to sample this album)
Duran Duran. The supposed Achilles heel of my musical tastes. I understand that not everything the “Fab Five” did was golden; Seven and the Ragged Tiger, the album that included “The Reflex” and “New Moon on Monday,” is otherwise kind of a steaming pile. Some of the albums in the late ’80s and the early early ’90s (Liberty, anyone?) are completely inconsequential to the band’s discography. And that Thank You covers album really did stink up the joint.
But the first two albums…I’m sorry, they’re early-’80s pop perfection, especially the second one, Rio. I believe the following points illustrate that fact (mascara is not on the list).
The three singles from this album are fucking top-shelf
“Hungry Like the Wolf” seems to be everyone’s favorite Duran Duran song, what with its “Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo” verses and the singalong “I’m on the hunt; I’m after you” chorus. The guitar is sharper than usual, the drums are bigger than usual, Simon’s voice is as sure as ever. “Rio” also was made for singing along with a smile, with the chorus “Her name is Rio and she dances on the saaaaaaaand.” And “Save a Prayer” is the slow burn, showing a vulnerability that contrasts with the other two singles. Plus, it has that weird trick where Nick Rhodes plays a note on the keyboard and then slides a lever back and forth to bend the note into something exotic.
The videos for the three songs couldn’t have been any cooler
Seriously, “Hungry Like the Wolf” was a better Indiana Jones sequel than Temple of Doom and that most recent one (which I wasn’t duped into seeing, I’m proud to say). I’m pretty sure Harrison Ford paid off Simon LeBon to not incorporate the bullwhip or the fear-of-snakes angle into his “Wolf” character, for fear that Ford would be replaced by LeBon in the Indy title role. (If nothing else, I’m going to update Harrison Ford’s and Simon LeBon’s Wikipedia entry to say as much.)
“Rio” incorporates tropical scenes, a really attractive brunette, and yachts without sounding like yacht rock. And in addition to the attractive scenery, it had some of the oddest non sequiturs. One: John Taylor lounging around reading a combat comic book; flash to scene of John in pseudo military gear, storming the beach, only to find a scantily clad woman lying on the beach with wine/booze being poured into a glass perched on her perfect stomach. Artistic genius!
And “Save a Prayer” completes the trifecta of Sri Lanka beauty. One of my favorite aspects of this video is that Simon LeBon is dressed as if he is about to meet with Tony Montana and Alex Sosa to discuss the yeyo biz.
Who the hell didn’t want to live like Duran Duran after seeing these three videos? They hung out in kick ass weather wearing cool clothes chasing hot babes everywhere! And there were elephants and old world architecture and more babes, too.
The album’s closer, “The Chauffeur,” is Duran Duran’s best song of all time
The song has an eerie, dreamlike sequence of keyboard running throughout, along with bending bass notes and perfect percussion accents that give shape to LeBon’s lyrical tale of “the droning engine throbbing in time with your beating heart.” (The one thing I’ll admit about Duran Duran: the lyrics are usually pretty lame, although the words in “The Chauffeur” aren’t completely wince-inducing.) I don’t know how long it took Nick Rhodes to compose this synth-ony, but it’s pure bliss. And someone made a video that included a few topless women doing interpretive dance, so there’s that.
The other five “album tracks” are, for the most part, seriously great songs, too
No, they’re not radio-made tunes, but the five songs that fill out the album’s playlist beyond the three singles and “Chauffeur” elevate your typical album from the 1980s into something seamless and worthy of repeated spins. “Hold Back the Rain” is perhaps the most straightforward rock song they’d done on the first two albums, and remains a live favorite to this day. “My Own Way” is upbeat and tense, a perfect second song to follow the leadoff title track. “Lonely in Your Nightmare” and “New Religion” are both moody pieces that play well.
“Last Chance on the Stairway” is probably the closest thing to a throwaway tune to my ears, although I like it for a couple of reasons: I love the sound of someone flicking a lighter, taking a drag, and exhaling smoke at song’s beginning, with Nick Rhodes’ keyboard slowly building around it all; and John Taylor gives the bass strings a workout throughout the tune. Which leads me to my next point…
John Taylor is a stud of a bass player, a point he proves repeatedly on Rio
The dude is flat-out funky. His lines are so tight; the notes just pop at times, probably since he famously uses a pick to strum the low end strings. His stressed notes accent the fast songs and he provides the steady framework for the slower songs. And really, John is the coolest guy in the band, going on to play in a band with Duff McKagan at one point, so I felt I had to point out his contributions, as Simon and Nick seem to get the lion’s share of the attention.
And a more general point: These guys are so much better than you’ll ever allow yourself to admit
And why won’t you admit it? Because they have keyboards in their music? Because they considered image/fashion as one aspect of their overall package? What?
These guys took aspects of dance, rock, punk, and funk and made it work. And it works not only because these guys made cool videos or looked trendy or whatever; the fact of the matter is that John Taylor and Nick Rhodes can really write great pop songs, especially in the early going. And they were smart, especially when you consider how young they were and they weren’t managed like some fucking boy band. They embraced the video medium like no other, a move that paid off exponentially with the advent of MTV.
And I’m sorry, some who scoff at Duran Duran are the same people who tell me with a straight face that Journey is fucking great, or they can’t shut up about how awesome Aerosmith is.
Journey? Yeah, that’s more synthesized than Duran Duran…the Journey guitar sound makes me want to throw up. Seriously, listen to something like “Separate Ways” again and then come back here and tell me that is authentic rock music. Because Journey fans seem to think it is. Mind-baffling! And the dude sings at a register five octaves higher than Simon. But you’re right, Journey is way more “awesome.” Just look at this video for proof:
(This should be the next installment of my video breakdown series.)
Aerosmith? Yeah, since you started listening to them sometime in the 1990s, they’ve written exactly ONE SONG. And then threw new cheeseball lyrics at it about 50 times and put out a few albums. Nothing good since “Toys in the Attic.” Nothing.
And the authorities can’t understand why I want to throat-punch people sometimes…
So anyway, yeah, I’m putting Rio here. To reference a song from my #11 album, consider this my own Revolution 9.
Todd’s #9: Ride, Nowhere
(click play button below to sample this album)
When I first set out to rank my favorite albums of all time, I found that this was one of the few albums on my list that I didn’t own a copy of anymore. I was a bit shocked when I looked in my iTunes library and, other than the song “Vapour Trail” which I’ll talk about later, it wasn’t there. I converted all of my CDs to MP3 long ago. Made a pretty penny selling all the hard copies at a garage sale a few years back. I did hold on to a select few sentimental picks so I checked in there. No copy of Ride Nowhere there either. How could that be?
I had no idea when I quit listening to it, but Nowhere has always ranked near the top of my list of favorites. When I showed my finished list to my wife (She got a VIP early premiere) she immediately objected to the Ride record’s spot in the top 10. “How is that a Top 10? You’ve never talked about that record or listened to it since I’ve known you.” Was she right? Had I truly not listened to it in close to twenty years? Why? I really had to think about it until I came up with the answer. I quit listening to it because… it made me feel bad.
When I think back at the time when I would listen to this album obsessively, I realize now that I was pretty depressed. I’m not going to bore you about why I was depressed. This blog isn’t for sob stories or a source of fodder for “After School Special” writers. I will tell you this, it wasn’t some “We Need to Talk About Todd” type scenario and I didn’t spend my spare time torturing cats or anything like that. I was just unhappy a lot of the time. After I came out of that funk, I associated Nowhere with that unhappy feeling. So I quit listening to it.
When Chris came up with the idea for our joint best of lists I thought it would be impossible. Then once I got into it, I found it to be a lot of fun. Re-listening to hundreds of records and reminiscing about them has been amazing musical therapy. Since making this list, I’ve listened to Nowhere a dozen or more times and now it has a much happier association for me. I guess I have Chris to thank for that. Although, he did give me shit for my Counting Crows pick at #75. Such a dick.
The thing that I notice most now when listening is that Ride’s rhythm section is incredible. Something like that could easily be overlooked on a shoegaze genre record where you generally get overwhelmed by the wall of guitars and distortion. The opening song “Seagull” starts off with a long intro of drums and killer bass line and never looks back. By the time the vocals come in, I’m already exhausted and I’m just listening.
Ride uses that “wall of sound” strategy, for lack of a more original term, on many songs on Nowhere. I tend to like the songs which allow the noise to ebb and flow a bit more though. The song “Dreams Burn Down” is a great example. It slowly builds around already loud guitars and drums until the chorus when they take it up a notch and the result feels like the musical equivalent of a gut punch.
Then there’s the song “Vapour Trail.” If you held a gun to my head and asked me what my favorite song of all time was it would be hard for me not to pick this song. I could listen to that main guitar riff all day and the fucking drumming on the two minute outro blows me away every time. The guy just goes crazy. Actually everyone does. Guitars, bass and drums all doing their own thing but all in the confines of the song. The structured chaos goes on until a string quartet fades in playing the main melody and pulls every thing back together. I’m always left wanting more. If you’ve never heard this song, I suggest you follow these steps immediately:
Quit reading right now (well not now, continue with the instructions and then quit reading)
Yep, we’ve made a list. Two separate lists, actually, so the above graphic is a bit misleading. Accounting for the limited overlap in Todd’s and Chris’ lists, it’s more like the top 174 or something like that.
Anyway, after months of scientific analysis, hours of listening and re-listening to albums from years gone by, we have arrived at a definitive list of the top albums ever recorded. Our research is not open to interpretation, but you’re more than welcome to complain about the fact that your favorite albums aren’t on this list; we’ll simply respond by telling you that your favorite records aren’t really all that good.
We’ve reached the really good stuff: our top 10s. We’ll roll these out one per day (Monday-Friday) over the next two weeks, reaching #1 on Friday, Dec. 14. The following week, we’ll unveil our favorite music from 2012.
Let’s get on with it…
Chris’ #10: The Cure, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me
(click play button below to sample this album)
This is when it all started for me. No, this isn’t my highest-ranked Cure album (not a spoiler for anyone who’s known me for a long time) but had I not heard this wide-ranging double album, I might not have subsequently bought Standing on a Beach and pounced on the release of Disintegration and I might be pining for a Skid Row reunion or something like that. (Or I would have heard “Fascination Street” or “Lovesong” in 1989 and gone down the Cure path anyway…who’s to say.) But the album with the lips on the front cover and the eyeball on the back cover got this all started.
Again, I must give my cousin Josh credit; he’s the one who hooked me up with Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me all those years ago. Not only did he have Cure albums aplenty in his music collection, his room was adorned with some really cool black-and-white posters featuring the wild-haired singer, Robert Smith. So in addition to the other stuff he provided me (Slayer, Beastie Boys, etc.), I asked him for a copy of the latest Cure album.
I remember putting it on the stereo when we got back to Waukon, and being a little bit confused. I had this preconceived notion that this band was basically some sort of keyboard-heavy new wave kind of thing. So when the opening track, “The Kiss,” with its blistering guitar work by Smith and Porl Thompson, came screaming out of my speakers, I had to wonder if Josh had recorded the right band. Of course, when Robert starting singing, I realized the band was right and my preconceived notions were wrong.
This is definitely an album where Porl Thompson, who departed the Cure in 1994 to play in the Page/Plant band that performed on MTV Unplugged and later tour in support of the reunited Led Zep greats, was allowed to showcase his skills. And after an album where Robert wrote everything (The Head on the Door), all five members of the band were asked for input. Robert stated that the tapes he got from the others ranged from your typical guitar and guide vocal stuff to drummer Boris Williams submitting a demo that Robert described as “vampire drumming.”
And even though the resulting 18 songs are over the map stylistically, the quality level never dips. After “The Kiss” and its guitar showmanship (and lyrics that conclude with “I wish you were dead”), we hear bits of strings (“Catch”), some Eastern accents amid what I would consider to be “vampire drumming” (“If Only Tonight We Could Sleep,” awesomely covered by Deftones, by the way), the brassy compliment song “Why Can’t I Be You?”, a song with so many simple layers that when assembled come across as a song that is one of the most beautiful songs the band has penned (“How Beautiful You Are”), a dark, somewhat hypnotic tale about being “a mile under the ground and thinking that it’s Christmas” and being “out in car and it’s full of stupid girls and I try to speak and I just can’t remember a word” (“The Snakepit”), and more blasts of brass (“Hey You!”, “Hot Hot Hot!!!”, “Icing Sugar”) and an electric, up-tempo blast (“Shiver and Shake”) and one of those songs that I guess I always presumed the Cure did (“The Perfect Girl,” with its toy piano accents and no shortage of “doo-doo-doo” lyrics).
The album also has one of the greatest songs ever recorded, the song that even non-Cure fans probably are familiar with: “Just Like Heaven.” The song structure is similar to the aforementioned “How Beautiful You Are” in that it’s not a complicated song by any stretch of the imagination, but each little element comes together to create an amazing whole. It’s a song I’ve heard so many times and not once have I been “sick of it.” And the lyrics aren’t sappy but they’re not overly abstract, either. It’s a wonderful love song about how special an embrace can be and how dancing can be like “spinning on that dizzy edge” and how being with that special someone is just like heaven. And the video, set atop an oceanside cliff, is pretty cool, too.
The album also has “Like Cockatoos,” a song that features some really cool percussive effects around a slinky bass line, cool keyboard work, and an amazing way of describing the ending of a relationship. The whole song has a novel’s worth of emotion in about 100 words. The lyrical work on this song (throughout the album, really) is nothing short of stunning. It’s a skill of Robert’s that made the Cure so incredible during the band’s peak.
One funny thing about this album, a story that seems like a nice way to close this entry: my dad was listening to this album with me when we were driving somewhere. The song “If Only Tonight We Could Sleep” came on, and my dad remarks, “They ripped this off from the Eagles.”
Let’s get one thing straight: much like The Dude, I hate the fucking Eagles, so you can imagine how well that statement went over with me, especially teenage version of me. I’m sure I insulted him in some way, to which he said, “Listen to ‘Journey of the Sorcerer’ and then tell me I’m wrong.” He had One of These Nights on LP, so when we got home, I gave it a listen. To call them similar is a stretch; to say one ripped off the other is flat-out wrong.
But to my dad’s credit, he wasn’t completely off-base. In an interview, Robert talked about recording some of the stuff in Southern California, and as a result, he felt at times they sorta sounded like…you guessed it, THE EAGLES.
I guess I should give my dad props for recognizing it, even if he won’t acknowledge the Cure is 1,000,000 times better than the Eagles.
Todd’s #10: Fleetwood Mac, Rumours
(click play button below to sample this album)
What do you get when you take a band with two broken long term relationships, throw in an affair with another band member, and mix with lots of drugs and alcohol? The 10th best album of all time of course.
Like everyone else their age in the ‘70s my parents had this Fleetwood Mac Rumours album. For a long time this was the soundtrack to our weekends. My parents would be doing one of their typical projects around the house and when I wasn’t busy getting in the way or snagging my Dad a fresh beer, I would listen to Rumours and stare at the album cover.
When I hear the song “Dreams”, I’m always reminded of those lazy weekends and the brief time when you are very young that your life revolves around your parents. You go about your business secure in the fact that they have everything under control and nothing bad is ever going to happen. Of course, as you grow older you lose that feeling and realize they were winging it just like everyone else.
Anyways, I must have looked at the album cover a million times. Specifically this picture.
Quite an odd collection of people there. Singer and lead guitar player Lindsey Buckingham had the biggest hair I’d ever seen. He doesn’t look too happy to be next to his ex-girlfriend Stevie Nicks in the middle there. The McVies are nowhere near each other and Christine won’t look in John’s direction, which sort of tells you everything about the status of their relationship at the time. And what to say about Mick Fleetwood standing behind Stevie? Apparently they were banging around that time so maybe the look on his face makes sense in that respect.
Rumours has to be the most emotionally charged album in history. I can’t imagine being in the studio for the recording of some of these songs. Especially the songs like “Go Your Own Way.” I imagine Lindsey came in and said “Hey everyone, I have this great song. Stevie, It’s about how you broke up with me and started banging Mick. No hard feelings though Mick. Here’s how it goes.”
Loving you
Isn’t the right thing to do
How can I
Ever change things that I feel?
If I could
Maybe I’d give you my world
How can I
When you won’t take it from me?
That’s maybe my favorite lyric in music history.
If I could
Maybe I’d give you my world
How can I
When you won’t take it from me?
It always gets me going. Just ask my wife. When that part of the song comes on I always go crazy. “You see! He’s trying to give her everything but that bitch won’t take it from him!” She just laughs but I think she gets my outrage. The dude put it all out there but Stevie still fucked the drummer instead. The guitar solo at the end of the song is awesome too. Side note there: When I was at music school, the faculty put on a concert and I ran sound. One of the songs they played was “Go Your Own Way.” When that guitar solo came up, I raised the levels on the lead guitar and started rocking out pretty hard. Afterwards, I noticed that most everyone around me was watching me instead of the guitarist. I guess they didn’t think it was as cool as I did.
Rumours has a ton of amazing guitar work though. Take “Never Going Back Again” for example. Sometimes it sounds like three guitars instead of one. Once and awhile I listen to it and think “Hey, that’s really awesome. I could probably play that“. Then I remember I can’t. I have this Fleetwood Mac guitar book and when I look at the tablature on the page my head spins. It’s like doing musical calculus. Guess I’ll just stick to the Ramones songs where I just bang out 4 chords as loud as I can.
The Lindsey and Stevie songs usually get most of the airplay from this record but I like them all, even the Christine McVie tunes. I went through a period in college when I would listen to Rumours every afternoon. Guys used to come in and out of my room and I would usually end up playing someone in Madden 96’. They would complain when the Christine songs would come on. I thought it was great. Just when Christine lulled my opponents to sleep with “Songbird” or “Oh, Daddy”, Mike Alstott would blast through their defensive line for a Tampa Bay Buccaneers touchdown. All kidding aside, I really do like the Christine songs a lot. Well, sometimes I skip the Clinton/Gore fightsong “Don’t Stop”, but who doesn’t?
I guess we should give thanks to Slick Willie. He’s the reason for the Fleetwood Mac reunion in the ’90s. I actually bought my wife the Fleetwood Mac reunion concert album The Dance on our first date. I knew that I was going to marry her for two reasons after that date.
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That’s right. Chris and Todd both had Nevermind ranked #6. This was not planned. Each of us was tasked to make a top 100 list and Nevermind was the only one that landed in the same spot on both lists. The International Blogging Syndicate, or I.B.S., which governs the content of all blog entries, found out about our happy coincidence and decided to investigate our lists and ask a few questions about Nevermind‘s influence in our lives. Here is the transcript of that interview.
Music or Space Shuttle? 