The tragic thing about the new album by The Strokes is that it could have been something else. Like, really good. Even great. Instead, Julian Casablancas decided to drag his voice through autotune, and obviously the two songs that do not feature processed vocals are the best ("Dine N'Dash" and "Going To Babble On"). The rest has potential (instrumentally, Reality Awakes is excellent) but Julian turns it into a nightmare. I would like to know the honest opinion of his band members.
Thank God for Luke Haines. Izzy Wizzy Let's Get Bizzy is yet another reliably eccentric concept album, this time about the occultism and the magic of British children's TV in the 70s. If you think that's niche, you haven't been exposed to Luke Haines' music over the last decade and a half. It is dark and it is catchy and it has a lot of recorder and sinister folk strumming. And also, in the short and sweet "Spiritualist Church at 7.30pm Every Other Wednesday", one of his trademark classic pop tunes.
There was a time (circa 2012) when The Menzingers meant something to me. On The Impossible Past was on constant repeat and I even caught them performing unforgettable, high-octane punk classics like "Obituaries" and "Time-Tables" in a raucous pub in Dublin. Since then, they have been patchy (Rented World) and boring (Some Of It Was True). Their new album, Everything I Ever Saw, is both of those things. It feels laboured, and very predictable.
The cover of Charli XCX's previous album was pure kitsch, but then so is the black and white photo of Music, Fashion, Film. The album itself is filled with 2 to 3 minute songs that feel both snappy and strangely underdeveloped. It is an album of reels and threads and tiktok videos in a music form - all catchy and irresistible and also a little empty.
The Rolling Stones have released their latest 'best since Some Girls' album. Foreign Tongues is certainly an admirable effort from a band so past their prime it is not even funny. At this point, we are way beyond their lifetime and even their afterlife. It is a revived corpse that is still, somehow, able to produce good music. Foreign Tongues is full of energy and decent grooves and hooks and memorable choruses. If it all feels a little off, then it is not their fault. It's the age. Best since Some Girls it is not, of course, but their most substantial work released this century? I might just accept that.
Alex Cameron has lost something. After the perfect four album run (no small thing), he has released Late To Set without the saxophonist and longtime collaborator Roy Molloy. It shows. The songs feel a little more hollow this time, the playfulness is nearly gone (despite the conspicuous title "Jesus Never Had No Porno") and the humour has become a little forced. He is still very good, though, and both the ballad "Ricochet" and the groovy single "Red Hook Rain" are worthy additions to his stellar catalogue.
At this point in time, I know exactly what to expect from Robyn Hitchcock. And I'm fine with it. There is nothing confusing about The Confuser. It is a late period Robyn Hitchcock album, full of memorable (but not that memorable) and eccentric (but not that eccentric) songs that are perfectly fine but won't get him any new fans. I'm just happy to get back in the groove for a while, and even hear that Kimberley Rew guitar which appears here from time to time. No classics, just a lovely little collection of ten new songs.
Finally, another reliable album came from Shearwater whose new album, The New World, features an Interstellar-styled cover (which gives it a somewhat sinister edge) and nine songs of excellent slow burning folk-rock that has real tension and urgency to it. The musicianship is terrific and the beautiful melodies seep through, eventually. Laurie Anderson guests on the dreamy, hypnotic closer "You And My Dog".
Songs of the month:
"Spiritualist Church at 7.30pm Every Other Wednesday" by Luke Haines
"One By One" by Peter Gabriel
"Photos Of The Reenactment" by Kiwi jr.
"Ricochet" by Alex Cameron
"Daydream Unbeliever" by Shearwater
"Glamour Magick" by Arab Strap
"Rough And Twisted" by The Rolling Stones
"Cocaine Walking, Booze Talking" by Richard Thompson
It probably says something about this particular June (hot, sticky, infuriating) when the best album is Graham Coxon's archival release.
Castle Park was recorded back in 2011 while Coxon was working on A+E but for reasons not entirely clear it had remained unreleased for 15 years. Well, he did say something about this music being unfashionable, but come on. It's not like Graham Coxon has been in fashion at any point since the mid-90s (I'm saying this affectionately, of course). Castle Park is not much but it is a very tasteful, Britpop adjacent collection of pop rock tunes. I'm particularly fond of the short and snappy "When You Find Out" and the galloping "Dripping Soul" that oozes Coxon's effortless melodic charm. The whole thing ends in a somewhat inconsequential way, though, with a classical instrumental and a brittle lo-fi ballad, which betrays a certain lack of interest on Coxon's part.
Otherwise, it's been a drab month with new albums by indie veterans Death Cab For Cutie (boring!), Modest Mouse (mediocre!) and of Montreal (uninspired!). Really meek, toothless stuff, with the artists having so little to say you have to wonder why they even bothered. At the very least, Olivia Rodrigo's new album sounds like she cared. Not that I do - no, not even with a song called "The Cure" and Robert Smith himself guesting on "What's Wrong With Me" (at the very least, his feature is a lot more prominent than in the case of the new Rolling Stones single).
"I want to fucking kiss you on your Polish forehead!"
There is a point at every Baxter Dury concert when all subtlety is gone, the man wraps his jacket around his head and gets into the full screaming mode. This happened when I first saw him in Berlin a few years ago. This happened at the OFF Festival in Katowice in 2024. And this definitely happened at Progresja in Warsaw last Wendesday. What I have noticed, however, is that these days he gets into that mode right from the very beginning.
This makes sense, of course. We are a long way away from sophisticated, downbeat albums like Len Parrot's Memorial Lift or even Prince Of Tears. Hell, even 2020's The Night Chancers was subtlety incarnate compared to the electropop onslaught of last year's Allbarone. A good album, granted, one that can make a dance club explode.
No wonder, then, that it is the Allbarone songs that work best at a 2026 Baxter Dury concert. There is no foreplay, and he does not even do "Leak At The Disco" anymore. He gets into it straight away, no-prisoners-taken style. "Alpha Dog", then "Hapsburg". There are many in the audience who have only just discovered Baxter Dury, and the propulsive "Kubla Khan" is what they are here for. The third song of the set, the synthwave classic "I'm Not Your Dog", sounds almost elegant by comparison.
He does mix the old with the new but it is the Allbarone album that is played in its entirety (well, almost). Again, it works well within the context of the venue and his latest musical mindset (the chorus of "Allbarone" is positively ecstatic). The old stuff sounds uneven. While the magic of "Prince Of Tears" simply cannot be denied, the hookline of "Aylesbury Boy" becomes a bit of a mess.
I still love him, of course, and I certainly don't want to say that he was only good when he played small Paris clubs and had 4000 monthly listens on Spotify. That said, it sounded a lot more effective when he squeezed the paint out slowly instead of splashing it all over your Polish forehead the moment he got on stage.
I've still not been able to detect the 'genius' in Aldous Harding's songwriting. Her latest, Train On The Island is generally proclaimed to be her best, but to my ears this is all pleasant foreplay with little payoff. The lyrics are quirky (or should I say self-consciously odd?) and the melodies occupy that slightly uncomfortable space between intricate and underwhelming. I don't mind artsy, I just need a little more substance in my music (which you would probably describe as chamber pop with folk-ish vibes). So what remains is a good album a little skimpy on hooks. "The Barrel" remains her best song, comfortably. 6/10
Speaking of underwhelming, Tori Amos certainly fits the bill. I did not mind her ripping off Kate Bush on her early 90s albums, but Times Of Dragons is just dull. The songs are endless (the whole thing goes on for 76 minutes) and melodically uninteresting. A few instrumental hooks aside (mostly courtesy of her piano playing), this is a little too close to adult contemporary for my liking. 4/10
There are not too many artists whose albums I anticipate as much as Alela Diane's. She never disappoints. No, I don't expect her to reach the same heights as she did on The Pirate's Gospel and About Farewell, but Who's Keeping Time? is another collection of charismatic, self-confident folk tunes that just sound timeless. While not her best work, the album features career highlights like the opening "California" (that whistling hook is divine) and "Dusty Roses" (Christ what a tune). All that said, the verse melody of "Spring Is A Fine Time" was definitely borrowed from an old song whose name escapes me at the moment. 7/10
My annual listen to a new Guided By Voices album yielded no revelations. Crawlspace Of The Pantheon (bizarrely, Robert Pollard hasn't used that title yet) is tastefully distorted power pop that many fans will probably view as GBV's best since Isolation Drills or something. It is not. But a good Guided By Voices it certainly is, whatever that even means at this point. The best is probably the single "We Outlast Them All". Who cares, though. 6/10
Oddly, we have to turn to the 84-year old Paul McCartney to provide us with the best album of the month. Lyrically, The Boys Of Dungeon Lane is clearly a nostalgic trip and melodically it is all over the place (in a good sense). It is all in here: his adventurousness ("As You Lie There"), his acoustic balladry ("Days We Left Behind"), his poppiness ("Ripples In A Pond"), his rocking-out spirit (the surprise ending of "Mountain Top"), his granny music ("Life Can Be Hard"), his sappiness ("Momma Gets By"), a little filler ("First Star Of The Night") and even a good old-fashioned duet with Ringo ("Home To Us"). So how does it stand against his latest output? I'd say it is his strongest set of songs since Memory Almost Full, and if it turns out to be his last, then it's an excellent farewell. 8/10
Steve Kilbey has never been as prolific as he is now (the new Church album is on its way). Things We Did On Earth is his latest collaboration with Martin Kennedy and was released under the Kilbey Kennedy moniker. As ever, the man has taste and one hell of a melodic gift. Some of his stuff can get a little too dreamy and spacy on occasion, but this collection is very tight and to the point. The guitars, too, sound incredible. 7/10
Also, American Football continues to put me to sleep and the guy from Bleachers keeps writing almost good songs that almost work.
Songs of the Month:
"Disobey" by Kilbey Kennedy
"Dusty Roses" by Alela Diane
"Blowin' Up" by Kiwi Jr.
"As You Lie There" by Paul McCartney
"A Hard Lesson" by Peter Gabriel
"The Beast" by Patrick Wolf
"You You You" by Arab Strap
"My Life In England Pt.1" by Dexys Midnight Runners
If there is anything that the psyop situation with Geese has proven to me, it is that the narrative culture has gone too far. I love a good story as much as anyone, but these latest accusations are the direct result of people having too much free time on their hands. It feels like this free time has to be filled with conspiracy theories and a bunch of far-fetched narratives that go nowhere at all.
Or maybe I have just gone soft and started to take this dangerously utilitarian approach when it comes to art. If there is a critic who murders my favourite films but then gives me one recommendation that will knock me off my feet, then the said critic is worth reading. Equally, if Grian Chatten wraps himself in a Palestinian flag at every Fontaines DC concert, that will not make me stop listening to the excellent Chaos For The Fly. Really, I'm happy that Hitler's art was terrible, or I could be in very dangerous waters here.
Now coming to Geese... I find the story of someone using a deliberate psychological operation to affect my appreciation of a band mildly intriguing but also somewhat irrelevant. Because the music is actually good. Because the narrative should never override the art, and Getting Killed is one of the most exciting albums in recent years.
I really do not know why I still bother with these Ringo Starr albums. A few songs aside ("It Don't Come Easy", "Vertical Man"), none of his music has ever appealed to me. His latest, Long Long Road, is country pop with zero personality attached to it. A few high-profile guests (Sheryl Crow, St. Vincent) can't save it either. It's okay, I guess, as a background listen on a long car ride. 4/10
My New Band Believe (has to be the worst band name I've seen in a long time) is adventurous chamber folk music which is both charming and a little unfocused. The self-titled album is the brainchild of Cameron Picton from black midi, and you can certainly feel the melodic and instrumental complexity associated with that band. There is a lot of orchestration here, whimsical lyrics and vaguely pretty melodies running awry. Sadly, the meandering nature of Cameron's songwriting prevents me from truly enjoying this. 6/10
They Might Be Giants return with their latest, The World Is To Dig, and it is 18 outbursts of nerdish vocals, quirky lyrics and terminally catchy melodies ("Character Flaw" will probably eat at your brain). I have never been a huge fan, but it is impressive how effortlessly they keep doing this. 7/10
There's a part of me that thinks Foo Fighters have never been good. I know they probably have, two or three times, but mostly their brand of alternative rock mush is just a few steps above Nickelback. "Window" is passable, I guess, but overall Your Favorite Toy is terribly mediocre. No subtlety, no charisma, no tunes. 3/10
Mercifully, there is a great album from the end of March that I missed one month ago. It is by the British band Memorials who specialise in beautifully sung post-punk that is well-written and just endlessly inventive. The way the melodies in the opening "Life Could Be A Cloud" flow and ebb should give you a good idea of the album's sound. There are powerful Stereolab vibes here, but the vocals are even more elegant, almost folk-tinged. All Clouds Bring Not Rain is a fascinating album that keeps getting better with each listen. 8/10
You have to give it to them - Poles have a sense of humour. As a sweaty, exhausted Marlon Magnée finishes doing "Elle ne t'aime pas" (which is the song that once started my love for La Femme), he turns to the audience. "Guys, could you recommend the best bar in Warsaw? One I should go to while I'm in the city?"
"Rusałka!" is the loudest scream.
"Okay", he says. "I will go there".
Oh dear. I hope he googles the place before he does. But then he probably won't remember the name once the concert is over and he is done with the extended encore that includes a few classics like "Sur la planche 2013" and "Tatiana".
Incidentally, Rusałka (Polish for mermaid) is a good title for a new La Femme song. It is also a cult bar młeczny, an old-school cafeteria-like eatery with traditional food, low prices and the sort of decor that will transport you back into communism in no time at all. And the exterior? Let's just say if Marlon does remember the name of the place, he won't dare to go in.
And yet it is hard to imagine the district of Praga without this place. Just as it is hard to imagine it without the cozy little yard off 11 Listopada St. that includes a mural titled "You Will Never Be Younger Than Now", a nostalgia vintage shop, an atmospheric bar with strong Twin Peaks vibes and the bizarrely named club called Hydrozagadka. The latter is the perfect venue for a Marlon Magnée concert. The demented, dilapidated streets of Praga-Północ with a Soviet-looking milk bar called Rusałka in close vicinity. The intriguing late-night thrill of the little yard. The weed-smelling little club with a small stage but a lot of attitude. Really, you wouldn't want to see Marlon Magnée in another setting.
The warm-up act is a pleasantly eccentric Polish band called BEMY with a singer who looks like a wild version of Bill Evans and a bunch of highly entertaining songs in French. The performance is full of brilliant energy and a brief setlist full of Zbigniew Wodecki's repertoire adapted for a small club in Warsaw.
After which comes Marlon Magnée, and we start with the single "Plus fort que toi" off his excellent solo album Dark Star (released earlier this year). After a few lethargic La Femme records, it is a real return to form, and the energy exuded by the visibly pumped Magnée proves that he, too, knows that. He then does "La fureur d'Annie" followed by the slower, classic-sounding "La première", and quite soon it becomes clear that he is doing Dark Star in its entirety. The songs feel as good as they are on the record, if not better. I would probably welcome some more variety (the club ambience is relentless and intense), but I'm still caught up in all this high-octane, motorik-imbued nonsense.
The audience are into it, too, and alongside the beer-wielding, weed-smoking teenagers there are also people of older age and even a couple of random French people who are visibly happy to see their compatriot in this wild, dark heart of Varsovie (speaking of which, Marlon gets into the habit of saying dziękuję after each song he does). Not to jump or at least sway like a madman is nearly impossible, and I don't think I have experienced anything quite like this since the good old days of The Menzingers blowing the roof off a small club in Dublin ten or twelve years ago.
The beautiful respite comes by way of the self-penned timeless gospel tune "Cause There Is No Time" that brings the concert proper to its stylish end. Except there is also an extended encore, and Marlon is clearly thrilled to do more songs. "Are you ready for "Tatiana"?" he asks after a brief pause. And oh God yes we are. Then another song. And then, after the last goodbye, he does two more. He doesn't want to leave, and neither do we. And no - he won't be going to Rusałka tonight. Polish milk bars close at 5 pm.
Like everyone else, I hate it when French people pretend they do not understand the English language. That said, the biggest problem with Marlon Magnée's debut solo album Dark Star is his insistence to sing some of these songs en anglais. Sadly, this affliction also hit La Femme's last album Rock Machine which traded a certain French mystique for a bunch of English cliches. Still, these are some of his best songs since La Femme's second album, and any fan of that band's work will feel right at home with these catchy little tunes that merge stylish synthpop with a motorik heart. Plus, "La première" is pure magic. 7/10
The new album by The Delines was a mild disappointment. Perhaps The Set Up was rushed a little - coming as it did merely one year after their previous LP (the excellent Mr. Luck and Ms. Doom). The relaxed, Americana-tinged vibes are still there, and Amy Boone's soulful vocals hit as hard as ever, but this particular set of melodies seems remarkably weaker. 6/10
Other than the obvious hits, I've never been a big fan of Squeeze. Which is why Trixies, their latest, is such a pleasant surprise. This is not an old band sounding dull and irrelevant - instead, it is Chris Difford and Glenn Tilbrook re-recording songs they wrote in 1974, four full years before their official debut. Back in the 70s, this concept album set in a fictional London nightclub was rejected, but here in 2026 it just sounds exciting and fresh. Trixies is playful art pop with certain glam and psychedelic undertones (I mean, "The Place We Call Mars" is basically David Bowie). Perhaps other 'older' bands should follow suit and release stuff they did in their teenage years? 7/10
Earlier this month, I wrote the full review of Morrissey's Make-Up Is A Lie, and I would say that subsequent listens haven't made me love it less. Really, as long as you don't compare it to Vauxhall & I, this is really strong material that stands up against some of his more acclaimed work. Paid critics are slowly coming round, too. 8/10
Back in their day, Voxtrot did not exactly set the world on fire - but they had this great knack for an irresistible melodic flow. Their run of EPs was amazing, and "The Start Of Something" was the best song that The Smiths never wrote. Where they faltered was a fully-fledged LP. Despite having a few great songs ("Kid Gloves", "Firecracker"), their self-titled album was the result of a burnout rather than of true inspiration. Does Dreamers In Exile right the wrongs? Well, they sound exactly like they did in their heyday in mid-00s, and the melodies are as free-flowing and beautifully long-winded as ever, but I can't get rid of the following thought: there is a brilliant EP here ("New World Romance" / "The Times" / "My Peace" / "Rock & Roll Jesus") but beyond that the levels of their sugar-coated power pop get too high. Good stuff though. 6/10
With some terrific post-punk crunch and a few great guests (Luke Haines, Lee McFadden of Television Personalities), Swell Maps return with C21. These days, the band is basically Jowe Head with a bunch of friends, and the album does not come especially close to their two classics from 1979 and 1980, but this is still a good reminder and a convincing set of tasteful freak-outs. 6/10
The New Pornographers are back with their 10th (!) album. The Former Site Of marks the first release without their disgraced drummer, and it is perhaps their most subdued and least flashy LP ever. Which does not mean, of course, that AC Newman has stopped being one of the best songwriters currently working in indie music. The hooks and vocal melodies are still there, they just weave their magic into you slowly rather than knock you off your feet from the get-go. And while "Pure Sticker Shock" may feel a little too repetitive and uneventful for my tastes, "Ballad Of The Last Payphone" and especially the closing epic title song are some of their best work ever. Also, "Wine Remembers The Water" could have been written by Dan Bejar. But it wasn't. 7/10
Finally, House Of All stick to their plan of releasing one album every year. Inklings is still good, and I enjoy these grooves as much as I enjoyed them previously, but for how long can this go on without straying away from the formula? Or is that a wrong question? 6/10
Nobody even listens to Morrissey's albums anymore. Why would you? If you are working for The Guardian or The Irish Times, you only need to say that the guy is a wanker (the language will be different, but you get the idea) with despicable political views and that one of the songs on his new album expounds the conspiracy theory that the fire in Notre-Dame de Paris was not accidental. You need to say that the guy remains a pompous, miserable, Islamophobic narcissist and give the said album a one-star rating. Maybe two stars, if you are feeling generous.
Which is not to say that Morrissey does not invite such perfunctory criticism (he does like to present himself as a martyr, and the lyrics of "Notre-Dame" are indeed nothing to be proud of) - but can we please get below the surface level and see that Make-Up Is Lie is, in fact, a tuneful, diverse, instrumentally rich collection of songs (some of his best in a while)? Sung in that inimitable voice that hasn't lost any of its power?
My biggest criticisms of the album are the following:
- The cover isn't great.
- The title song compensates a sparse, non-descript verse melody with a catchy but obnoxious chorus.
- While full of energy and featuring some fiery guitar freakouts, the cover of Roxy Music's "Amazona" was not really necessary.
And that is that, really. Despite the dodgy lyrics (which he actually made slightly more palatable - the original version would have got him buried even deeper by the British press), "Notre-Dame" is actually a brilliant synthpop single. Elsewhere, "Headache" is one of his best and most melodically rich ballads in years (clever guitar insertions, too). "The Night The Pop Dropped" is funky and intense. "Kerching Kerching", despite its abrupt ending, is a sweeping symphonic pop-rocker with decent lyrics full of bitterness and false hope. Best of all, though, is the closing "The Monsters Of Pig Alley" whose deceptively upbeat melody and wistful lyrics will break your heart. The song is a true masterwork and an early contender for my song of the year.
Humour is, as usual, in short supply - even if the autobiographical "Zoom Zoom The Little Boy" could probably qualify. It is a tale of an impressionable boy (young Morrissey, obviously) who wants to save all animals in the world ("squiggles of the deep" is an amusing turn of phrase, I will give him that). The song is somewhat silly but very infectious. Otherwise, the only hint at Morrissey's sardonic humour is the "naked ladies on the wall" line in "Lester Bangs" - but that one is more awkward than good.
How does Make-Up Is A Lie stand up against Morrissey's past albums? Well, it is clearly not as great as Vauxhall & I or even Your Arsenal, but how much worse is it, really, than the relatively well-received World Peace Is None Of Your Business? Or even something as beloved as You Are The Quarry? Honestly, just listen to the goddamn music.
Colour Green is a very deceptive title. After all, there is nothing especially 'green' about this album, whether we are talking about the sepia-imbued cover or the actual musical content. And yet the more I think about it, the more sense it makes. First, the colour in question invokes the cover of Nick Drake's classic debut Five Leaves Left from 1969 (which was surely an inspiration for Colour Green). Second, it creates a certain out-of-sync and out-of-time feeling that is further backed up by the story behind this album's release.
Sibylle Baier is a German folk singer and actress, and yet it is quite hard to say either of those things with full confidence. After all, she recorded but one album, and her only acting credit is a minor appearance in Wim Wenders's Alice In The Cities (1973). Colour Green was recorded in her home in Germany between 1970 and 1973 but remained unknown and unreleased until 30 years later when her son compiled the scattered recordings on a CD and gave it to J Mascis of the American alternative band Dinosaur Jr. J Mascis was so impressed that he passed the songs to the Orange Twin Records label who promptly released them in 2006. Since then, the album has achieved a legendary status and a cult following.
It is a great story, of course, but it wouldn't be nearly as interesting if the music wasn't special. After all, we have heard enough cult albums where the context overshadows the actual music. Colour Green is not one of those albums. Instead, it is a self-contained world of pastoral elegance and melodic brilliance that is sustained all through its brief, but magical, 33 minutes. Colour Green is a world unto itself.
In a nutshell, Colour Green is a haunting guitar-based folk album. It is mostly made up of short ballad-like vignettes which are both evocative and disarmingly beautiful. The material is very even. "Tonight" is the album's most famous tune, but that is perhaps because it comes first. After all, songs like "Remember the Day" and "Forget About" (possibly the most achingly gorgeous thing ever written) are hardly any worse. There is very little variation on the album, although one could argue that "Softly" is almost upbeat and "Wim" is almost playful. Oh and the closing "Give Me a Smile" features an orchestrated string section and an electronic organ (apparently Baier plays a steel-string guitar here instead of a nylon-strung one).
I don't remember who it was who said that February is a Tuesday of the year. Ever since I first heard this album ten or fifteen years ago, I've always felt this was a perfect Tuesday album. "Tonight, as I get back from work...". There is a certain wistfulness to Colour Green, a certain melancholy, but once in a while you encounter beauty that transcends sadness, and gives hope. Colour Green is precisely that.
There is a game I sometimes like to play. I ask myself: what if I remove this one song from a given album, will it improve the overall quality? In these dream scenarios, you get In The Court Of The Crimson King without "Moonchild". Led Zeppelin III without "Hats Off To (Roy) Harper". OK Computer minus "Fitter Happier". Would you really argue that those changes do not constitute an improvement? And is there an album in the world that would not get better with some minor pruning (for the record, yes, there is a handful of such albums)?
You might think Ween would be a great candidate for this game. You might think that each one of their albums features a failed experiment or a worthless dick joke that should never have seen the light of day. Oddly enough, Ween renders the game completely irrelevant. Take "Candi" out of Chocolate And Cheese, and some ridiculous yet vital balance is disrupted. Obviously, "Candi" is a silly joke, an uneventful mess, and yet it feels essential to the whole idea of this band. In a way, Ween's heart is spread evenly between "Candi" and, say, "A Tear For Eddie".
Their studio output started with the wild, hilarious screams of "You Fucked Up" and ended with the slick, smart "Your Party", and despite the maddening diversity and the large body or work in between, Ween have always felt like this one clever unit of a band, unbothered by register and willing to take any genre in the world and make it their own. In a live show, they would do "Mister Would You Please Help My Pony" and follow it up with the beautiful, earnest cover of "All Of My Love". There would be no contradiction in that.
Ween are mostly Gene and Dean Ween - the former is a vocalist of a million voices and the latter is one hell of a guitar player.
10. Pure Guava (1992)
This is an early one that features song titles like "Flies On My Dick" and "Touch My Tooter". It sounds that way, too, amateurish and deliberately dumb, besides being their first album for the major label (Elektra). A lot of joke songs and dicking around going on here, and don't even think of making it your first experience of Ween, but when you dig deeper, you will be rewarded with a few flashes of songwriting brilliance ("Little Birdy", "Don't Get 2 Close (2 My Fantasy)"). They simply couldn't help themselves.
This sounds a lot like Good Ween Satan: The Oneness, only darker and somehow... even murkier. The crazy thing is that underneath the overall silliness, there is a great band very much enjoying themselves. "Dr. Rock" rocks, "Pork Roll Egg & Cheese" has the sweetest melody in the world and every time Gene Ween screams "Sketches Of Winkle" I can't help thinking about Roger Daltry singing "Pictures Of Lily". I can't say I enjoy listening to The Pod (for the record, the cover is a parody of Leonard Cohen's 1975 compilation), but I find it genuinely unsettling and ever intriguing.
This album greets you with one hell of a warm welcome. After a brief announcement, a few seconds of silence and a brittle drum rhythm, you get Gene Ween shouting "You fucked up, you bitch, you really fucked up!" into your face. What follows is a bunch of one-minute outbursts (plus a couple of 9-minute jams) that tackle various genres and moods. The production values are low, but the fun and the energy levels more than make up for that. Also, there is a song titled "Mushroom Festival In Hell", and it probably sounds like one, too.
This was an interesting detour for the band. After Chocolate And Cheese (which many people consider their best album), the band moved to Nashville to record a country album. Of course, Ween being Ween, they recorded the absolutely greatest pure country album in the world. They brought the edge to it, a few new voices from Gene Ween and almost no dick jokes. Tight, catchy and a lot of fun - with a touch of real heartbreak in the closing ballad "Fluffy".
Back when this album was released, I was already a fan. I remember that for weeks and perhaps months they had been promising a really brown album, and this is what we got. La Cucaracha was, once again, a great exercise in taking a genre (pop punk, piano balladry, smooth jazz, soul, etc.) and writing a song in it. The results were a little patchier than expected ("Spirit Walker" is unforgivably bland, and I have little use for "Learnin' To Love" after 12 Golden Country Greats), and many fans were disappointed, but there is simply too much good material here to ignore. "Woman And Man" is a prog rock epic with some great guitar workout from Dean, "Object" is a lovely folksy ballad with ominous lyrics and "Your Party" creates the sort of atmosphere I could die in.
Shinola: Vol.1 is a superior collection of rarities and outtakes. I'm sure they could release a much longer collection (it is actually criminal that the following volumes have never materialised), but the quality of songs here is up there with Ween's best albums. "Do You See Me" reminds me of prime Pink Floyd. "Monique The Freak" sounds better than anything I've ever heard from Prince. "Someday" would have graced a classic Ween album like Quebec. "Gabrielle", my favourite, is a pumping rocker with a terrific guitar solo and one of their catchiest choruses. Crazily but also typically, early outtakes sound better than the albums they were rejected from.
This is the first major album by the band. A sprawling 16-song album tackling almost every genre in existence and not once sounding faceless or derivative. Somehow, the genius of Ween has always been to own the genres they handle. So if they do sunshine pop ("Roses Are Free"), they do it with utter conviction. If they do a Funkadelic-styled jam ("A Tear For Eddie"), Dean Ween comes up with a Maggot Brain-sized guitar solo. And if it is a revenge tale that you want, done in a spaghetti-western style, then "Buenas Tardes Amigo" will squeeze the absolute maximum out of the obvious genre limitations. It is not a perfect album, but, again, remove the bizarre "Spinal Meningitis (Got Me Down)" from the track list, and the whole thing might crumble.
Quebec is one of the band's more serious albums, with its 'brown' moments feeling a little uninspired - if not downright forced. Thus, whereas I can take on "So Many People In The Neighborhood" without any difficulty, I really have no use for "The Fucked Jam" in between the perfect pop of "I Don't Want It" and the moody guitar soundscape "Alcan Road". Still, like I said in the introduction, you can't be a Ween fan and expect them to forego "The Fucked Jam". Quebec is a brilliant album, with heady power pop ("Transdermal Celebration"), propulsive Motorhead-styled hard rock ("It's Gonna Be A Long Night") and the anthemic finale of such magnitude, you could be excused for thinking they may have been entirely serious there. Also, the music of "Zoloft" captures its title perfectly.
What is this - a 12-song Ween album with little to no juvenalia and just great music? But that's what White Pepper really was. A play on the names of two legendary Beatles albums and melodies to match that. The diversity has not gone anywhere, of course, and the Caribbean-styled "Bananas And Blow" just about transcends everything you may have heard in that genre. "Stay Forever" is pop perfection. "Falling Out" is criminally catchy. And the gorgeous "Flutes Of Chi" has one of my favourite guitar solos ever. An absolute classic of an album.
This was the album that made me a fan twenty or so years ago. Unlike most other Ween LPs, The Mollusk always felt to me like a collection of songs all serving one purpose. The Mollusk is not exactly a progressive rock album (there are hints, though), but it sustains the same mood - that of the deep green you can see on the cover - all the way through. Interestingly, they pull it off regardless of the fact that in the course of this album they do foul-mouthed sea shanties, underwater polka and, yes, the obligatory novelty number. A masterful album - so masterful, in fact, that you will be tricked into thinking adult contemporary is not the most worthless genre imaginable. But that is the power of Ween.
Musically, 2025 was just another year. Mid, as kids today would say. Which does not mean, of course, that any of these ten albums are anything less than excellent.
10. Cold Specks - Light For The Midnight
It saddens me that nobody noticed this album. In all fairness, I did not notice this album either, and only heard it two months after its very low-key release. While Light Of Midnight does not reach the artistic heights of Neuroplasticity, it is definitely an improvement on the somewhat middling Fool's Paradise. She is a very special talent with a knack for a soulful melody and a real personality to back it up. Fantastic voice, too.
9. Luke Haines & Peter Buck - Going Down To The River... To Blow My Mind
They keep churning them out, Luke Haines and Peter Buck. Looks like they enjoy each other's company, and if this results in albums as good as this, then so be it. Going Down To The River is my least favourite of the three collaborations, but this is still full of Haines' sinister melodic wit and Peter Buck's tasteful guitar freakouts. Excellent rock album.
I was at their show back in October 2023 where they presented a few of these songs. During the concert, they sounded like the best thing in the world. In their final studio form, however, the songs feel a little too self-conscious and clever for their own good. Still, the talent (vocal, songwriting, instrumental) involved here is incredible. Really, other than the faceless title song, this is great: twisted, inventive, and extremely rewarding.
This was Patrick's first album in 14 years, and aside from the glowing review in Quietus, I did not see much love for it. A shame. There is actually a part of me that thinks Crying The Neck is his most consistent album ever. Perhaps it does not have the fantastic peaks of "Paris" or "The Magic Position", but each one of these 13 songs has something to offer. Charismatic chamber pop, steeped in folk music, mystical lyricism and the man's unfading melodic sensibilities.
Again, I'm shocked to see that so few reputable publications included Neon Grey Midnight Green in their end-of-year lists. Because if not for a couple of somewhat uneventful songs in the middle (sometimes she taps into country music a little too much for my liking), this could easily be in my top 5. Side one is some of her best music ever, and she goes so effortlessly from the Laurie Anderson-inspired "Tomboy Gold" to the intense, driving second half of the title song. One of the best singer-songwriters in business.
This is such an accomplished, immaculate album that you almost take it for granted. The Delines found that sweet spot back in 2014 with the classic debut album and have been doing the same thing for more than ten years now. And it just works. Mr. Luck & Ms. Doom is soulful, classy Americana that is equally charming and heart-breaking. Their best music since the aforementioned Colfax.
I will have to admit that Stereolab had always been a band I respected rather than loved, but this latest album, their first after a 15-year hiatus, is pure aural joy. It's hard to pin them down in terms of genre (krautrock, indie-pop, post-rock, chamber pop - it's all in here), but does it even matter? What matters is that these songs are full of hooks, personality, style and sometimes the French language.
The amount of sheer euphoria on this album is truly staggering. I used to be an ardent agnostic when it comes to Geese (their first albums did not impress me, and neither did the acclaimed solo record by Cameron Winter), but Getting Killed finally won me over. Adventurous, hook-filled rock music that works even when it shouldn't ("Half Real") and simply blows me away with that final two-song punch. I can't wait to hear what they do next.
Robert Forster is one of the best songwriters around, still. I was underwhelmed by the leading single (title song), which seemed a little too cutesy and Lovin' Spoonful-lite to me, but the moment "Tell It Back To Me" started playing, I got my album of the year (almost). So much personality in these melodies, so much class in these lyrics.
Pulp came back in style, but how else? You couldn't really expect that Jarvis Cocker would not bring the songs. More is playful, infectious and full of nostalgia that doesn't grate. I do not yet know how it compares to their classic three (let's wait and see), but this definitely met my expectations and had, in "Tina" and especially "Grown-Ups", some of their greatest songs ever.
Each time that I want to write about The Stone Roses' legendary debut, something gets in the way (lack of time, mostly). So I think I will just do it now, finally, a few days after the death of Gary "Mani" Mounfield. Because even though I have never been a fan, this was shocking, tragic and so really uncalled for.
The Stone Roses has the mystique that cannot be denied. It is a statement of intent, a big send-off to the 80s. It is a self-contained world. It effortlessly mixes beautiful guitar melodies with sonic grandiosity. It is conservative and also wildly experimental. Really, so much of 90s music in Britain would not have happened without it (I'm not passing any judgement here, just stating the obvious). Critics loved it, as did the audiences. In fact, they loved it to the extent that the second album never stood a chance.
And yet... I never quite bought into the mystique. Do not get me wrong, I like this album. I just never got the adoration (no pun intended). John Leckie, the album's producer, once spoke about how The Stone Roses was conceived as a perfect album. Just look at the way the whole thing is structured: you start with a classic opener ("I Wanna Be Adored") and end with a huge sprawling epic ("I Am The Resurrection"). And there is indeed something about the concept and the idea of this album that is grand and self-important and also a little... overreaching. You would not know it from the beginning, though. A beautiful rumble, then cleverly constructed guitar build-up and then Ian Brown singing the classic opening line (truly, one of the best opening lines in history):
I don't have to sell my soul
He's already in me
It really is a magical moment, and it is all the more painful that nothing that follows even comes close. I would expect fireworks after this, but nothing here lives up to that initial blast. Already the next song, "She Bangs The Drums" is little more than an unremarkable, if catchy, pop-rocker. I'd rather take "Waterfall" that follows - with a jangly groove and a timeless vocal melody. Next comes... "Waterfall" again. Only this time it is played backwards and bears the title "Don't Stop". It is an artistic choice so bizarre, it is actually quite brilliant. "Don't Stop" is a subdued psychedelic experiment that works.
Following that, the album settles into its confident proto-Britpop rhythm that is only broken once by the short acoustic ballad "Elizabeth My Dear" that rips off, quite unapologetically, the melody of "Scarborough Fair". Nothing on side two feels like a major highlight, but "Made Of Stone" does manage to stick out due to the superior melody and John Squire's flashy guitar solo. Regrettably, I have never been in love with the closing "I Am The Resurrection" that starts as a pleasant enough pop-rocker and ends with a lovely guitar freakout. Nothing about it justifies its title, though, and that encapsulates my main issue with this album: it is great all right - but does it really sound that great to someone not caught up in the Manchester craze of 1989? Does the actual songwriting warrant the 'adoration', the 'resurrection', the 'second coming'?
Sometimes I do get this urge to crack the mystique. Once in a while, I put this album on, and God knows it always blows me away for a few minutes or so. Sadly, it rarely, if ever, goes beyond that.
Cocteau Twins recorded the kind of music you discover late at night, those rich and blissful and mysterious textures that envelope you and leave you speechless. You do not know what she is singing about most of the time, but ultimately it does not even matter. Songs like "Lorelei" or "Cico Buff" do not need to be decoded to remain transfixing, beguiling, utterly stupendous.
Cocteau Twins's sound was defined by gorgeous guitar freakouts by Robin Guthrie ("Musette And Dreams", already perfect, is capped off by one of the most astonishing guitar solos in existence), otherworldly vocals by Elizabeth Fraser (how does one even begin to describe those?) and clever bass runs by Simon Raymonde (check out "Cicely", for example).
One of the most unique bands in history, they created their own sound and stuck to it until the very end. They never recorded a bad album, and their extensive EP collection Lullabies To Violaine is absolutely essential. They disbanded in late 90s due to inner turmoil, leaving behind one of the most consistent discographies I know of. They were everything that band name suggests, and more.
8. Four-Calendar Cafe (1993)
Like I said in the introduction, Cocteau Twins never released a bad album. This, though, was the closest they came to losing a bit of their identity. You would not know it from the first song, though, the dreamy (I have a feeling this is going to be the most abused word in these reviews) and achingly beautiful "Know Who You Are At Every Age". The melody is otherworldly and could fit into any of the Twins' classic albums. Other highlights include the single "Evangeline" and the closing "Pur" that wakes up from its slumber after two-minute mark and brings back the lushness and the energy of that old magic. Overall, though, while I love the sound, this feels a little diluted and uninspired after the masterpiece that was Heaven Or Las Vegas.
Best song: "Know Who You Are At Every Age"
7. Milk And Kisses (1996)
After the relative disappointment of Four-Calendar Cafe, the band's final album was a welcome, if slight, return to form. There was more energy this time, more drive, more meat to the melodies. No, it does not have the touch of genius that was all over their 80s/early 90s albums, but you do get a few glimpses. The guitar that underpins "Serpentskirt", for instance, or Liz's vocal inflections in "Seekers Who Are Lovers" have the sort of mystique that evokes albums like Treasure and Blue Bell Knoll. The two unispited classics here are "Tishbite" and "Rilkean Heart". Plus, I'm also very partial to the heavenly "Half-Gifts" that would almost sound like a normal waltz had it been recorded by someone other than Cocteau Twins.
Best song: "Rilkean Heart"
6. Garlands (1982)
If you want to find an album in Cocteau Twins' catalogue that did not come completely out of nowhere but had some strong contemporary influences, then that album would be the debut. While Garlands still sounds unique, it is seriously indebted to the goth-punk of Siouxsie & The Banshees. You see the unnerving cover, you notice the title of the first song ("Blood Bitch"), and you think you know what to expect. Well, not entirely. Because underneath it all, you get the sonic textures that are both beautiful and deeply disturbing. There is a density to their sound that is still a little lacking in confidence - but in few months this will be fixed. The highlights include "Wax And Wane", "Blind Dumb Deaf" and the title song.
Best song: "Wax And Wane"
5. Victorialand (1986)
Every Cocteau Twins album is a world to get lost in, and Victorialand taking that concept to absolute limits. There are times when I listen to this album and can't even tell one song from another. That is not a criticism, however. The songs are good, if perhaps a little more relaxing and less hook-filled this time (well, the hooks are there but they are less obvious this time around). It is like the cover suggests: incomprehensible yet utterly beautiful. Dreamy to the extent of hypnotism. As a side not, this was not the only Cocteau Twins associated album released in 1986. There was also a collaboration with the ambient artist Harold Budd titled The Moon And The Melodies. It is credited to Budd, Fraser, Guthrie and Raymonde, and all I can say is that the Cocteau part of it is excellent.
Best songs: "Lazy Calm" (but that may be because it comes first)
4. Head Over Heels (1983)
Head Over Heels ends with "Musette And Drums", and I have long considered it to be among the greatest sonic experiences I've had in my life. It is just so intense, so dense, so powerful that my response to it is almost physiological. There are shivers, tears, nervous laughter. There is of course no way Head Over Heels can all be like that, but the first half comes very close. While Garlands could be accused of a certain lack of originality, this was the album that put them on the map. You could probably discern that there are ballads ("Sugar Hiccup") and rockers ("In My Angelhood") here, but really, by 1983 this became completely irrelevant. Not when the music is this strange and idiosyncratic. And while the second side can not hope to scale those height again, it absolutely destroys me with the final song.
Best song: "Musette And Drums" (see below)
3. Blue Bell Knoll (1988)
Now the next three are all pretty much immaculate. I do not believe any of them features a song I find in the least bit underwhelming. Blue Bell Knoll (the title is based on an old British legend that says the death will take you the moment you hear the blue bell's knoll) is different from Victorialand in the sense that there is more drive and energy to the songs. "Carolyn's Fingers" was a relative / deserved hit and would be a good place to start exploring the bizarre and wonderful world of Cocteau Twins. With its melody and an array of vocal hooks (Liz was always good at those), its appeal is undeniable. Stuff like the intensely dreamy "Athol-brose" or the oddly anthemic closer "Ella Megalast Burls Forever" (oh those song titles) is just as good, though.
Best song: "Carolyn's Fingers"
2. Heaven Or Las Vegas (1990)
Preferring Treasure to Heaven Or Las Vegas is similar to choosing The Dreaming over Hounds Of Love. The latter albums are more accomplished and universally beloved, but the former ones have something extra to them, some special ingredient (call it magic, call it a spell) that pushes them beyond the limits of humanly possible perfection. And Heaven Or Las Vegas is perfect. It is masterfully composed and produced, and does not have a single misplaced note. I love it to bits. When I listen to songs like "Cherry-Coloured Funk" and "Iceblink Luck", I'm transported to a different dimension with such effortless ease it is actually frightening. You know how after a few glasses of wine you can lie down and feel your head spinning away. It is not actually a pleasant feeling. When Cocteau Twins do it, however, you never want to leave that state.
Best song: "Iceblink Luck"
1. Treasure (1984)
Really, the only thing wrong about Heaven Or Las Vegas is that Treasure was just... a little better. From the mesmerising acoustic rhythm and Liz's angelic vocals of "Ivo" and all the way to the majestic choir and sonic grandiosity of "Donimo", listening to this album is like walking through an enchanted forest and loving every second of it. I don't know what else to say about it, really. Treasure is a fucking masterpiece, and one of the strangest and most beautiful albums ever recorded.
I have come full circle with Led Zeppelin. Back when I started listening to them, at the age of 14 or 15, I thought it was all about the fourth album. The untitled one. The classic one. The one with "Stairway To Heaven" on it. Later, I became more of a tedious purist and started to believe they never really improved on their debut. Later, that choice started to bore me and I went for the more hardcore and uncompromising second album. But even that was not enough, and soon I was in with the hipster crowd claiming the third album was the one with the best tunes. After which, somewhat inevitably, I realised that it was Physical Graffiti all along, that long, sprawling double album that was as patchy as it was powerful. Physical Graffiti was the cool choice. Now, though, I have come full circle.
The thing about Led Zeppelin is that the music worked despite limitations. They stole their riffs from old blues musicians (or perhaps 'appropriated' is the right word?) They wrote inane Tolkien-lite lyrics (Ian Anderson once claimed that with his lyrics and Led Zeppelin's music they could be a great rock'n'roll band). They had a singer who could be obnoxious without even trying too hard (and sometimes he did try very, very hard). And yet, in spite of everything, they were among the very best. Jimmy Page was perhaps the greatest guitar player ever. They were all superior musicians, in fact, and the music oozed so much power and conviction they could almost trick you into believing "The Ocean" was a great song. They were so good, actually, that George Harrison once wanted to join them.
9. Coda (1982)
This is by no means a controversial opinion. Coda was a bad album that was only released to fulfil contractual obligations. What saves it (kind of) is that it was not even a proper studio LP, but just a collection of outtakes from various points of the band's career. And they were all outtakes for a reason; there is not a single song here that would have improved an album they were culled from. Coda is plodding and uninspired, with only a couple of flashes of goodness (not even greatness). "Poor Tom" is a decent folk tune from Led Zeppelin III sessions, "We're Gonna Groove" is an okay cover and "Bonzo's Montreau" is an entertaining drum solo - but its only achievement, really, is that it is better than "Moby Dick".
Best song: "Poor Tom"
8. Presence (1976)
I have never felt comfortable saying that Presence is the worst Led Zeppelin album (nobody counts Coda, do they?). It features a famous Hipgnosis cover. It opens with the band's greatest song. It ends with a classic epic ballad. According to Jimmy Page (never trust an artist when they speak about their own work), this was the band at their peak. However, there's just no getting away from it: Presence is a bit of a mess. Yes, "Achilles Last Stand" is an awe-inspiring epic that never gets boring for a second during its ten and a half minutes. And yes, the sprawling, bluesy "Tea For One" is a worthy successor of "Since I've Been Loving You". I will also admit that "Nobody's Fault But Mine" succeeds through sheer force and oomph. But that's it, really. The rest ranges from awful to mediocre cock rock, and at some point you will be excused to think the shivers that went down your spine at the start of "Achilles Last Stand" were just an illusion.
Best song: "Achilles Last Stand"
7. In Through The Out Door (1979)
While the reputation of Led Zeppelin's last album (nobody counts Coda, do they?) has never been especially great, it has always struck me as a very solid release. There are no embarrassments here, the kind you could expect from a 60s band approaching the 80s. "In The Evening", while overlong, features a timeless riff. The piano-based "South Bound Suarez" (written by Plant and John Paul Jones) is a lot of fun. The playful "Fool In The Rain" is hardly a triumph (the fast tropical part in the middle does not quite work for me) but the power and the mystique are still there. The country western "Hot Dog" is pure filler, but I love everything that follows. The epic "Carouselambra" is not great but I always find myself enjoying all 10 minutes of it, down to the disco ending. "All My Love" is one of their greatest and most touching ballads (Plant's ode to his son who had recently passed away). And the closing "I'm Gonna Crawl" is an undisputed classic, with a great guitar solo and a true claim to being one of Led Zeppelin's best songs.
Best song: "I'm Gonna Crawl"
6. Led Zeppelin II (1969)
While these days I consider the band's second album to be the weakest of the classic six (the production is muddy and murky and almost hides John Paul Jones' brilliant bass playing), I still think it is essential. Or, rather, parts of it. Led Zeppelin II starts very strongly: "Whole Lotta Love" is an experimental orgasmic rocker ("orgasmic" in every sense of the word, in fact) and "What Is And What Should Never Be" is one of their strongest ballads. "The Lemon Song" is somewhat captivating but it also feels like it was stitched together from a bunch of old blues numbers. Now "Thank You" I've never liked. It starts like it means business but then gets pretentious, boring and generic very quickly (despite, again, great musicianship). In a word - the album is patchy and for every amazing riff-rocker ("Heartbreaker") there is an uneventful drum solo ("Moby Dick") or an old blues cover that sounds like it was recorded under water ("Bring It On Home").
Best song: "Whole Lotta Love"
5. Physical Graffiti (1975)
Physical Graffiti is a story of two halves. It is obviously a powerhouse of an album that offers very little respite (which may be the reason why I have always loved the short instrumental "Bron-Yr-Aur" so much - Page was a brilliant acoustic guitar player). It is one pounding rocker after another, and at some point it becomes a little exhausting (which may be the reason why the second part of this double album has never stuck in my memory and remained one big blur). Still, there is enough great material here to make it worth your while. The slide-guitar infested epic "In My Time Of Dying" is paranoid and gripping. "The Rover" is one of their most effective rockers. And "Kashmir" never loses its mystical, Eastern-tinged power. I just wished there was a little more subtlety to the end of this album.
Best song: "The Rover"
4. Houses Of The Holy (1973)
Their most diverse album and the only one that has a sense of humour. Houses Of The Holy has it all, from reggae to folk rock to funk to majestic balladry to synth-based sinister goth epic. And yet it all sounds like prime Led Zeppelin. The album starts beautifully, with three memorable songs that almost deceive you into thinking this could be their songwriting peak. Sadly, they misfire with the funked up (but mercifully short) "The Crunge" but then quickly recover with the second side which is mostly all great. And that includes, yes, the ridiculous reggae-fied single "D'yer Mak'er" which is criminally catchy and an absolute delight. Still, the following "No Quarter" pretty much destroys everything else here: it is menacing, beautifully built and puts unforgettable images into your head. Those of dark knights, lonely fields and centuries-old Gothic castles. I have always loved that Hipgnosis cover, too.
Best song: "No Quarter"
3. Led Zeppelin III (1970)
I still think sometimes that this is their best album. Melodically, they would never beat the striking folk melodies of "Tangerine", "That's The Way", "Friends", etc. There is also something remarkably unpretentious about Led Zeppelin's third album and besides, I've always loved Jimmy Page the acoustic guitar player. The big classic was, of course, the seven-minute blues epic "Since I've Been Loving You", and deservedly so. It has that smoky late-night vibe that just gets under your skin in the nicest way possible. There's that bubbling intensity, the clever build-up and those beautiful organ runs that hold it all together. But, really, it is all good, with the incredibly murky and unmelodic "Hats Off To (Roy) Harper" being the only real letdown. What a confused and confusing ending to such a special album.
Best song: "Since I've Been Loving You"
2. Led Zeppelin I (1968)
They arrived fully formed. I don't exactly love this one more than the third album, but there is something in me that folds under the pressure of the four song run that starts this album. That stuff is unimpeachable, to the extent where you won't even care who they were ripping off here. They owned these melodies, they made them their own. "Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You" is pure perfection, from the gentle acoustic opening to those classic Robert Plant outbursts that never sound obnoxious or overbearing. The rest of the album can't hope to reach those heights but "Black Mountain Side" is a beautiful acoustic guitar workout from Page, "Communication Breakdown" is a great rock'n'roll explosion and "How Many More Times" is a powerful hard blues epic that brings the whole thing to a close.
Best song: "Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You"
1. Led Zeppelin IV (1971)
Well, it was always the fourth one, wasn't it?
While not perfect (Led Zeppelin never made a perfect album, and if I had to put a number on it, I would say this one gets a "9.5"), the Untitled LP is still the one. Somehow it all came together in 1971, and the usually uneven songwriting matched the consistently excellent musicianship. So what keeps it from being perfect? Two things, really. "Misty Mountain Hop" and "Four Sticks" - but even those are good driving rock songs (if a little oversimplistic). And as for the rest of it... well, this is some of the greatest rock music in existence.
Best song: "Going To California" (I mean, not really, but come on)
It would be true to say that if Sandinista! was a single album, it would be the best album of all time. It would also be true to say that if Sandinista! was a double album, it would still be my favourite album ever. What I have finally realised, 20 years into listening to Sandinista! in all its patchy messed-up glory, is that even as a triple album featuring no less than 36 songs - it is still the single greatest musical experience I have ever had.
People often say that about The White Album, but I've beaten that horse to death too many times now. The chorus of "The Continuing Story Of Bungalow Bill" is abysmal. "Why Don't We Do It In The Road?" is a waste of tape. "Don't Pass Me By" is just weak. There is simply too much filler. Besides, The Beatles were not even functioning as a full unit at that point (which, come to think of it, is why "Dig It" and "Maggie Mae" work and "Wild Honey Pie" does not).
When it comes to Sandinista!, even the filler works. Every dub remix sung backwards by a kids' choir (loosely speaking) feels engaging, feels like it belongs. This was The Clash operating at the height of their songwriting / arranging / playing powers, and it certainly helps that this may well be the most stylistically diverse album ever recorded.
Side one.
1. "The Magnificent Seven".
Disco-funk with strong shades of hip-hop to Joe Strummer's vocals. Propelled by Paul Simonon's massive bass line, "The Magnificent Seven" is, of course, an absolute classic. All through its five and a half minutes, the groove is unrelenting.
2. "Hitsville UK".
Mick Jones's classic pop song with gospel overtones. This was released as a single, but stalled at number 56. The whole thing is so engaging and feels so genuine that in an ideal world it would top any decent chart.
3. "Junco Partner".
A reggae cover! This is where we start to lose people as this might not have been something many Clash listeners signed up for when they purchased Sandinista! back in 1980. But never mind that. This is groovy and fun (full of all kinds of quirky sounds) and I have always loved that relentless violin in the background. Joe Strummer is clearly enjoying himself on the vocals.
4. "Ivan Meets G.I. Joe".
This is, essentially, a disco tune filled with some bizarre space invaders sounds in the background - as everything else on here, this is intense and totally addictive. Killer violins, too.
5. "The Leader".
Oddly, this was the first song from Sandinista! that I heard. A short (1:41) rockabilly tune that was probably recorded in one take. Catchy and smart.
6. "Something About England".
This one is among the greatest songs ever written. In the midst of a lovely wall of sound (pianos, strings, trumpets, backing vocals) this is Mick Jones exercising his great pop sensibilities. So good, in fact, that it would appear again on the album - albeit in a totally deranged version. But we will get to it later.
Side two.
1. "Rebel Waltz".
The Clash doing a cold, downbeat, dirge-like waltz that has always been among my absolute favourites on the album. My only complaint is that I wish it could go on for a couple of minutes longer. That subtle guitar line is gorgeous.
2. "Look Hear".
This is a fast-paced jazz number filled with hip pianos, vibraphones, harmonicas and God knows what else. Very cool.
3. "The Crooked Beat".
Another groovy reggae song, this time sung by Paul Simonon in that inimitable menace-inducing voice of his. Dig those crazy sound effects in the background.
4. "Somebody Got Murdered".
God I love the way this one starts - like we are in for an epic pop classic. And we are. Once again, Mick Jones on the vocals, which means that we are in pop rock heaven yet again. Oddly, many people think that the man's highest point was "Lost In The Supermarket" and that he lost it after The Clash. Not true. Even his Big Audio Dynamite days are filled with occasional brilliance ("Medicine Show", "Applecart", "Innocent Child").
5. "One More Time".
This could be my favourite reggae song on the whole album. I love those dark, classy 15 seconds that open the song, but even when the song settles into its main groove - I'm all for it.
6. One More Dub".
Hilariously and (somewhat) ridiculously, they chose to follow "One More Time" with its dub remix. I still have a lot of fun listening to it (the percussion, the groove), though. Think of it as an extended coda.
Side three.
1. "Lightning Strikes (Not Once But Twice)".
The second LP opens in a very similar way to the first one, and I mean that quite literally. "Lightning Strikes" is built on pretty much the same disco/funk rhythm as "The Magnificent Seven". But with the musicianship this astounding - why not?
2. "Up In Heaven (Not Only Here").
And... we are back in Mick Jones' territory. Terrific power chords and the sort of propulsive yet lovely vocal melody the man has always been so good at. Beautiful ringing guitar hook guiding the song forward, until the very end.
3. "Corner Soul".
Imagine reggae mixed with gospel and sounding out-of-this-world gorgeous. Soulful, gentle, deeply affecting with a brilliant vocal hook ("Is the music calling for a river of blood?") from Strummer and the female backing vocalists. Topper Headon's drumming is exceptional, too. This is a big personal favourite.
4. "Let's Go Crazy".
Christ this side three is incredible. "Let's Go Crazy" is, what, calypso music? Well, whatever it is, I find the groove totally infectious.
5. "If Music Could Talk".
Lots of people tend to have a problem with this sax-driven light jazz instrumental (well, technically, it has Joe Strummer saying something or other in the background - but the voice is here merely for the vibes), but I am okay with a little tasteful respite. All the more so because at this point I would trust them with dubstep or nu metal (not).
6. "The Sound Of Sinners".
Well, this one is straight-up gospel: sincere, full-blown, unforgettable. If I was Catholic, I would totally sing this one after my next sermon. Yet another highlight.
Side four.
1. "Police On My Back".
Is this the best song on the album? I can no longer tell, honestly, but play this right now and tell me what you think. This is a punk song by a band who has long outgrown the genre. The siren-like guitars, the power chords, Mick Jones's vocals, the anthemic melody. Surprisingly, this was a cover, but they totally reinvented what was originally a fairly inconspicuous mid-tempo little rock song.
2. "Midnight Log".
Two-minute boogie? Why not. This is playful and catchy, with a memorable harmonica hook.
3. "The Equaliser".
This is the first true reggae song in a while - except that it isn't. It is sparse, psychedelic and rather demented. Downbeat, too. Those bizarre violin insertions are mesmerising - as is the rest of the song.
4. "The Call Up".
Oddly, this was the biggest single from the album - oddly because I've always believed that there were a lot more options here with a much higher commercial potential. Still, it is wonderfully creepy (lyrically in particular) and the groove just never lets up. Maddening and melancholic.
5. "Washington Bullets".
Caribbean music. Just yesterday I was walking through a small Polish town reenacting that rhythm inside my head, time and time again. One of the most infectious songs on the album, and its lyrics actually feature the word "Sandinista" (the name of the Socialist party in Nicaragua that was fighting against the US occupation). A classic, of course.
6. "Broadway".
Well, try to decipher what this is. A dark, nocturnal groove with a rather downbeat and rambling performance from Strummer. Classy piano, laidback vibes. Listen to this while walking home on a Saturday night. Also, the song ends, quite inexplicably, with a little girl (Maria Gallagher, daughter of one of the musicians on the album) singing "Guns Of Brixton". Lovely!
Side five.
1. "Lose This Skin".
The third LP starts with an intense, incessant, ridiculously brilliant violin groove and features vocals from Tymon Dogg (silly me, I always thought this was a woman singing). The passionate chorus always gets under my skin (no pun intended). An absolute delight, and one of the album's greatest highlights.
2. "Charlie Don't Surf".
I have only recently rewatched Apocalypse Now for another time, and it was of course in Coppola's classic film where these words first appeared (spoken by Bill Kilgore in one of the cinema's most iconic scenes). Here, The Clash take these words and record a surf rock classic.
3. "Mensforth Hill".
It is worth noting that this is song number 27 on the album, so if you've made it thus far, you might as well go all the way. "Mensforth Hill" is the return of "Something About England", only recorded backwards and with crazy overdubs. I enjoy it freely, against my better judgement.
4. "Junkie Slip".
Hardly a classic by any stretch of the imagination, this jerky little tune is still enjoyable. Remember, Sandinista! is a journey, and "Junkie Slip" is an essential part of it.
5. "Kingston Advice".
Another overlooked highlight - particularly good are those guitar-led parts with Mick Jones on vocals. Really catchy, and I love that "liiiife" hook.
6. "The Street Parade".
Again, I don't know what this is - but I love the downbeat nature of the verse. Plus, the brassy chorus is a subtle delight. Inessential, but I'm happy it is here.
Side six.
1. "Version City".
The 'difficult' last side opens with this soulful, gospel-tinged groove that is as memorable as anything else on the album. But buckle up! This is the last relatively normal song on Sandinista!
2. "Living In Fame".
The truly rough patch starts here, but, again, just stick with it and get lost in the grooves. "Living In Fame" is a dub version of "If Music Could Talk". Which means: bigger bass, more reggae-fied, even groovier.
3. "Silicone on Sapphire".
Dub version of "Washington Bullets"! Even if The Clash did it to fulfil their contractual obligations, I still love it. Not least because "Washington Bullets" was so good.
4. "Version Pardner".
Dub version of "Junco Partner"! Five-plus minutes might be stretching it a little, but all that percussion and all those bizarre sound effects are so addictive, I find myself enjoying it every time I get this far (which is always).
5. "Career Opportunities".
This is a version of the punk classic sung by two little children: Luke Gallagher and Ben Gallagher. I once read a long article in Uncut about the making of this album, and as far as I remember, the kids got toy guns for doing this. Well worth it, I guess. Love this to bits.
6. "Shepherds Delight".
We end, quite fittingly, with a percussion-driven reggae instrumental.
P.S. Do yourself a favour. Next time you go on a long trip, take this album with you. Live with it a little. Let it breathe. Get lost in it. It will soundtrack your experience, and it will deliver new wonders every time you will listen to it in the future. It is THAT good.
