Stevie Wonder: Music of My Mind (1972)

(Tamla)

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

It's endlessly fascinating to consider this album's context; we so easily forget that not just under the Motown umbrella but in pop music, Stevie Wonder was already a major star in the 1960s. So was Marvin Gaye; where Gaye's singles wallowed and seduced, Stevie's soared. "Classic period" nothing; those '60s singles are still the most infectious, endearing, beautiful songs Wonder has ever recorded, regardless of who wrote most of them. But when Marvin and Stevie broke free of tyrannical operation by Berry Gordy and associates, the true chasm between the two came to light. The primary feature of What's Going On? that lends the record its humanity is its maturity. Meanwhile, there is melodic innovation, there is a floating ambience that encapsulates and enraptures. These features appear in different form on Stevie Wonder's 1972 album, his second (after Where I'm Coming From) since gaining full artistic control, his first acknowledged classic, but the difference is marked. Maturity is hardly what 21 year-old Wonder brings here. Giddy thrill at the possibility of the recording studio is more like it. He's in the world of Orson Welles being given the key to RKO, or Truffaut saying to hell with it and unleashing Shoot the Piano Player. Every second of recorded music here has two features: it is played by Stevie Wonder (save a trombone on one track and an electric guitar on another), and it is tweaked and twisted to maximum teasing, intricate effect.

Unlike the four subsequent albums in Wonder's "classic period," Mind doesn't rely on killer songs, although they're here if you need them -- the entire second half save "Evil" holds its own against his masterstrokes. This record is about the accumulation of a feeling. Wonder shares production credit with Robert Margouleff and Malcolm Cecil; whoever's responsible for the sound of the album deserves a bulk of acclaim here. Overflowing with detail and comforting sonic depth, with buried dialogue and quiet instruments and elements blaring away in the distance, making better use of stereo sound than most ever will in a career, Music of My Mind sounds like world-changing heaven, and timeless at that. To this day, it has that otherworldly gutsiness that once made Wonder seem like an alien, but Our Alien, and because its songs have suffered less overexposure, it is quite alarming now.

The platitudes that cross the mind, like "hugely impressive," seem to have been part of Wonder's intent. For a soul album, this is a rather cerebral affair, and a heavy proportion of its appeal comes from the palpable blast the artist is having. Still, after the complex, immensely tricky seven-minute sunburst of "Love Having You Around," which opens as pop, passes through gospel, and finds time for a crazily modern keyboard solo, with speech and singing popping in and out incessantly left and right (you can see where Kanye West is tipping his hat with that ear for detail), it's inevitably a letdown to find ourselves seeped in the draggy "Superwoman," the semi-hit single here and one of the two tracks that doesn't quite work. It doesn't work because it's arrogant, smug, and adolescent, the leftover unenlightenment from a too-sheltered life that fortunately would not forever stunt Stevie the way it would Michael. The other dud, "Evil," proves that a penchant for too-slick balladry ran in Stevie's blood long before the wrongheaded sellout accusations crossed anyone's mind; there's a lot of shit like that on Talking Book too, which no one ever mentions.

As for the rest, well, pick your future subgenre: new wave Afro-funk ("Keep On Running," the too-innovative-for-the-charts first single), infectious vibe-disco ("Seems So Long"), achingly minimalistic jam ("Girl Blue"), and just Stevie doing that stunningly crazy shit he can do with countermelodies and counterrhythms and unexpected twists and just the canny explosion of an assured individuality ("Happier Than the Morning Sun") in the service of no less or more than a love song. There are even a couple of sexy slowish ones -- the celebratory "I Love Every Little Thing About You" and the scandalous "Sweet Little Girl" -- early on that have him at his absolute most playful, the vocals especially. He didn't have to be this good to keep the world with him, but he did it.

But far more than proto-this or that, this sounds in 2011 like real and now, like world saving artistic shit in a fucked up world. We don't need Stevie to do it again; we've already got it. Please, everyone take some time out and listen to this album for a while. You'll feel better, really.

Depeche Mode: Sounds of the Universe (2009)

(Capitol)

RECOMMENDED

Depeche Mode was right about everything. They never got the credit for it but their humanely adolescent, tongue-in-cheek melodramatic goth-synthpop crafted the electro-sound that falls over us like a curtain every place we walk today. Over three full decades, they've remained one of the most consistently adventurous (and critically underappreciated) of all mainstream bands. Maintaining this quality control has had its price; since the departure of musical backbone Alan Wilder fifteen years ago, they've slowed to a crawl and managed four LPs. Luckily, they've saved all their excesses and rough-hewn ideas for solo records and side projects, and have managed to pile up so much good Depeche Mode material that by 2009, there was an excess of roughly a dozen and a half songs that arguably could have made the final release. Those leftovers were saved for various collector releases (which we'll cover in the future), but it's interesting to note how specific and calculating the band still is about what ends up on their full-length releases.

Sounds of the Universe is, unlike the band's prior two albums (Exciter and Playing the Angel), not a revelation. It is the subtlest DM album in some time, but like their boorish 1993 pseudo-rock effort Songs of Faith and Devotion, it seems designed to make a specific impression. It aims to surprise, but all of its bombast comes off as a retread, while the chugging dance songs impress as much as ever and the quieter cuts buried at the back end actually offer something New from a band that seldom displays discomfort with its traditional sound.

The remarkable facet of Depeche Mode has long been just how expert they have become at crafting Depeche Mode music; it has never stopped sounding inspired, and by 2005's jaw-dropping dinosaur New Romantic classic Playing the Angel, it wasn't unreasonable to suggest they were at their peak. Better yet, the times have moved with them. The analogue synthesizers and skittering beats of Sounds of the Universe sound like trend-mongering, but they actually symbolize their status as trailblazers. Everyone wants to sound like early '80s Depeche Mode these days, including Depeche Mode.

There's a change, though, and not just the newly dirty, compressed emphasis on the age of those synths. These are the styles of our techno times, but they're fitted with a curious aggression. The band's toyed with this rather laughable macho expression before, in a sometimes laughable ("I Feel You"), sometimes delightful ("Dead of Night") fashion, but never before have they attempted to match this grunting pomp with the sort of keyboard sounds they were toying with back when they were Vince Clarke's backing band. Though the nuances and joy in these songs grow clear with time, it's not as interesting a match as one hopes. The single "Wrong" unnecessarily buries its candy-shop catchiness in mud and spittle. Despite being twisted enough from that premise to be interesting, "Miles Away" is equally odd. Even the two opening tracks, "In Chains" and "Hole to Feed," squander their lite-gothic funk with pointless bombast. Still, give these fiftysomethings credit for continuing to find new ways to grow and tweak this far into the game; they certainly don't have to.

Since Universe is a more outwardly experimental record than Playing the Angel and maybe even the shiftier Exciter, it's mildly disappointing that it doesn't work as well, and that the most rewarding songs are the ones that were probably easiest for the band to come up with, even as they fit impossibly well with current club music. "Fragile Tension," "In Sympathy," and "Perfect" are propulsive, distant dance music in the vein of any number of late '80s DM classics; they stand up with their predecessors and kick, swing, and all the rest. They're even balanced by the typical Mode sex jam move, "Little Soul."

As long as they're still putting out bangers (yes) and they're still funny (mm-hmm: "You know your right from wrong / At least to some degree"), who gives a fuck? But Universe does offer tantalizing glimpses of a future Depeche Mode I wish we wouldn't probably have to wait another three or four years to meet. "Come Back" continues Dave Gahan's stratospheric growth as both vocalist and writer. His singing is top-caliber for most of the album, wringing new feeling from those consonants he once barked out like a man drearily possessed. And Martin Gore sings "Jezebel," the most original tune in the catalog for a while -- sinister, surreal, new, it's not quite "Death's Door" and not quite "When the Body Speaks," but it's as sideways and unexpected as either. Pretty great that they can still do that.

Playing the Angel came equipped with "Precious," the best single Depeche Mode had issued for fifteen years; on an album full of gems, it was a juggernaut. Now, on this promising record with a few gems and a few intriguing oddities, we have another killer: "Peace" is as anthem, an answer, a protest, a private solace -- more personal and somehow larger than anything they've done before. Without a reversal of any of their blipping teenaged eccentricities, it's universally powerful and packs a wallop.

Subsequent to my initial exploration of this album I heard some of the peripheral releases containing its corresponding outtakes. Curiously, there are a number of songs that match "Peace" in quality if not impression. They seem to belong on the LP more than some of the cuts that made it. Depeche Mode's always had strong b-sides -- their singles are more like very strong EPs, always worth paying for -- but this might be the first time that their commitment to mood has been so devout they sacrificed the best material they recorded. "Esque," "Oh Well," and in particular the magnificently lurid "Ghost" are stronger than a number of the album cuts here, and the entire set of outtakes is surprisingly strong. Knowing this puts a hamper on Universe even as it becomes more ingratiating with time and falls into place in the Mode catalog.

It's exciting, all the same, that the band seems headed in a specific direction, and that this involves them stretching beyond what we know they're capable of. Not many artists have made stronger material from running in place; by refining their sound rather than revolutionizing it, they've long managed an alarming consistency that outmaneuvers the identity crises of their peers. Every Mode record from Violator on has been preceded by a single that deliberately oversold how much of a "departure" the album would be. This is the first time that crazed first single, "Wrong," was an accurate suggestion of new avenues traveled or at least glimpsed on the LP. That's pretty exciting, and a bit scary.

Oasis: Definitely Maybe (1994)

(Epic)

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Assuming it's been a while since you gave it much attention, you've no idea how amazing and cathartic this album sounds in 2011. Its unapologetic "more is more" guitar-wash sneer proves there's more than the Arcade Fire way to combat alt-rock irony: Oasis captures something explosive, overheated, and maniacal. Despite their fascinatingly cranky interviews, which always existed in the alternately lowbrow and brilliantly nobrow Beavis and Butt-Head universe, the Gallagher brothers' music seldom suffers from any actual pretension, least of all on their debut album. This record is the sole entry in Oasis' catalog that really bothers to put them up as a band; the string arrangements and the irksome resistance to growing the hell up would all come later. In the moment, it's still about feeling good and fuck off if you don't go for that. But who wouldn't? The rare person who isn't already won over by the time the hook in "Live Forever" hits will melt then; if they don't, their actual affection for rock music deserves to be called into question.

Beatles comparisons are only valid in the sense that a number of Oasis' melodies and chord structrues are clearly derived from any number of stoned Abbey Road listening parties; the majority of the band's Fab borrowings are gigantic clichés which have been appropriated by many before Oasis. Still, the influence is integral, but so are those of glam rock and shoegaze, less celebrated ingredients in the Gallagher pot. As easily as "Live Forever" and "ShakerMaker" invite Beatles chatter, "Columbia" recalls My Bloody Valentine, "Supersonic" New York Dolls, "Married with Children" and "Digsy's Dinner" Bowie, and so on. But this LP is to those luminaries what Raiders of the Lost Ark is to 1930s serials: a summary and magnification. Oasis picks up the loose ends and aural ideas of their influences and pushes them, squeezes them until there's nothing left. So "Rock 'n' Roll Star" and the immortal "Cigarettes & Alcohol" sound like '70s glam the way it exists in your head, the way it looks in pictures; "Live Forever" is a Beatles singalong maxed out into blissed-out oblivion, lacking every bit of the Beatles' mystery and subtlety but upstaging them for sheer chutzpah and button-pushing pleasure, and "Supersonic" is the brashest psychedelia the '60s were never audacious enough to produce. Noel Gallagher's songs and production amp up all of his obsessions until they overflow, gleeful in their intensity. Few '90s rock records are more satisfying.

The band itself takes a backseat to Liam's larger-than-life vocals, but Paul "Bonehead" Arthurs' lead guitar licks are the secret magic trick, and a prime reason for the constant Beatles callbacks. Still, it's Liam we hear the most, and he's just sprightly enough here to remain charming for the full listen. Even by the time of the naked, bitter closing track "Married with Children" -- a pretend-adult ode to man-child behavior that's truly contemptible and brilliant -- he is still uncovering nuance far beyond what he'd be displaying in even his better performances later on. And no cut is at all weak, but the hits ("Cigarettes & Alcohol," "ShakerMaker," "Live Forever," "Supersonic," "Slide Away," "Rock & Roll Star") leap out irresistibly; other classics like "Columbia" and "Digsy's Dinner" tease and expand the sound of the singles in the perfect fashion. What a difference, in comparing this with the band's pre-Creation recordings, a gimmicky production style and some excellent songs end up making.

Luck played far more of a role in Oasis' career than in the Beatles'; a combination of god knows how many label and corporate and radio forces made them, briefly, one of the biggest bands in the world, a title shared by few others in the '90s. Fleeting though that was, Oasis made good on their crucial immaturity by banking on sonic refinement while their peers all concentrated on trying to craft a unique enough voice to become, well, a fraction as popular as Oasis. It wouldn't be unfair to say they deserved the gold medal less than (in particular) Blur, but the calculation of Definitely Maybe is blow-away masterful. Putting all your best ideas on the debut album is an unenviable position to put yourself in, but few bands in history generated more excitement from simply not holding back. Perhaps the flaws of every subsequent release were built into this first one. For now, Oasis is a gut-level guitar band with appalling pop sense; they believe nothing else matters, and it's easy to wish they'd never changed their minds.

Of course, then, Oasis never issued another record this good, and certainly not one from so perfect a moment. Definitely Maybe captures them young, hungry, and obnoxious, at the perfect crossroads between the wall-of-noise Creation Records sound of their demos and the Britpop sneer they magically affected and came to forever define. Oasis never had Blur's wit and creativity or Radiohead's ambition, but they were brilliant at being self-fulfilled rock stars -- rock stars before the fact, even -- and at sounding like an audio miracle. To hear Definitely Maybe now is to feel yet again that innocent teenaged urge to bust out and go swimming in a shamelessly cartoonish portrait of adult reality in which compromise is futile, relationships are for a laugh, and the radio is always on full-blast.

[SEE ALSO:]
The Early Years (1992-95)

Index of posts 1-100

This marks the 100th post here and in order to keep it all somewhat comprehensive, below you'll find an index of the first 100 posts, which will henceforth be linked in the sidebar over there. I know this is coming straight after another "lists" post and that's a coincidence; as a bonus at the bottom of this post, there's one I neglected to tackle on the 31st, just to balance out all this dry informational stuff. Thanks for reading, everybody.

ALPHABETICAL INDEX
KEY: [A+] / [hr] = highly recommended / [r] = recommended / [c] = caution / [NO] = avoid

STUDIO ALBUMS
10,000 Maniacs: In My Tribe (1987) [c]
13th Floor Elevators: The Psychedelic Sounds Of (1966) [hr]
2 Many DJ's: As Heard on Radio Soulwax, Pt. 2 (2002)
3 Mustaphas 3: Soup of the Century (1990) [c]
The 6ths: Wasps' Nest (1995) [hr]
A.C. Newman: The Slow Wonder (2004) [r]
Arcade Fire: The Suburbs (2010) [hr]
Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti: Before Today (2010) [hr]
The Beatles: Please Please Me (1963) [A+]
Belle & Sebastian: Write About Love (2010) [r]
Best Coast: Crazy for You (2010) [r]
Big Boi: Sir Lucious Left Foot- The Son of Chico Dusty (2010) [r]
Björk: Selmasongs (2000) [hr]
Bob Dylan: Together Through Life (2009) [r]
Broken Bells (2010)
The C.A. Quintet: Trip Thru Hell (1968) [r]
ceo: White Magic (2010) [r]
Chatham County Line: Wildwood (2010) [r]
The Chemical Brothers: Further (2010)
Crystal Castles (2010) [hr]
Curren$y: Pilot Talk (2010) [hr]
Curren$y: Pilot Talk II (2010) [r]
D.L. Byron: This Day and Age (1980)
Deerhunter: Halcyon Digest (2010) [hr]
Delorean: Subiza (2010) [r]
Devo: Something for Everybody (2010) [NO]
Eels: Tomorrow Morning (2010)
Emeralds: Does It Look Like I'm Here? (2010) [c]
The Essex Green: Cannibal Sea (2006)
The Extra Lens: Undercard (2010) [r]
Fang Island (2010)
Flying Lotus: Cosmogramma (2010)
Four Tet: There Is Love in You (2010) [r]
Goldfrapp: Head First (2010)
Gonjasufi: A Sufi and a Killer (2010)
Herbie Hancock: Head Hunters (1973) [hr]
Hot Chip: One Life Stand (2010) [hr]
How to Dress Well: Love Remains (2010) [c]
Information Society (1988) [hr]
The International Submarine Band: Safe at Home (1968) [r]
Interpol (2010) [c]
Joanna Newsom: Have One on Me (2010) [A+]
Julian Lynch: Mare (2010) [r]
Kanye West: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (2010) [A+]
The Kinks (1964) [r]
Leonard Cohen: Dear Heather (2004) [hr]
M. Ward: Duet for Guitars #2 (1999) [r]
The Magnetic Fields: Distortion (2008) [hr]
Male Bonding: Nothing Hurts (2010) [hr]
Matthew Dear: Black City (2010) [r]
Midnight Juggernauts: The Crystal Axis (2010) [hr]
No Age: Everything in Between (2010) [c]
OFF! First Four EPs (2011) [r]
Old 97's: The Grand Theatre, Volume One (2010)
Panda Bear: Person Pitch (2007)
Pantha du Prince: Black Noise (2010)
The Pernice Brothers: Goodbye, Killer (2010)
Pet Shop Boys: Yes (2009) [hr]
Prince: Dirty Mind (1980) [hr]
Robyn: Body Talk (2010) [r]
She & Him: Volume Two (2010) [r]
Sleigh Bells: Treats (2010) [NO]
Spoon: Transference (2010) [r]
Sufjan Stevens: The Age of Adz (2010) [hr]
T.I.: King (2006) [r]
Tame Impala: Innerspeaker (2010) [hr]
The-Dream: Love King (2010) [r]
Titus Andronicus: The Monitor (2010) [hr]
Twin Shadow: Forget (2010) [r]
The Velvet Underground & Nico (1967) [hr]
The Walkmen: Lisbon (2010) [hr]
Wavves: King of the Beach (2010) [r]
We Are Scientists: Barbara (2010) [NO]
Wild Nothing: Gemini (2010) [r]
Yo La Tengo: Popular Songs (2009) [hr]

MIXTAPES
Das Racist: Sit Down, Man (2010) [r]

EP's
Girls: Broken Dreams Club (2010) [r]
Hot Chip: We Have Remixes (2010) [r]
James Blake: CMYK (2010)
Sufjan Stevens: All Delighted People (2010) [r]
The Tallest Man on Earth: Sometimes the Blues Is Just a Passing Bird (2010) [hr]

LIVE ALBUMS
10,000 Maniacs: MTV Unplugged (1993)

COMPILATIONS
The "5" Royales: Complete King Masters (1954-60) [A+]
? & the Mysterians: Best Of- Cameo Parkway (1966-67) [hr]
101 Strings Orchestra: 20 Years of Beautiful Music (1969) [hr]
1910 Fruitgum Co.: Best Of (1968-70) [hr]
Archie Bell & the Drells: Tightening It Up (1967-79) [hr]
The Beach Boys: Summer Love Songs (1963-71)
Chuck Berry: The Great Twenty-Eight (1955-65) [A+]
The Everly Brothers: Cadence Classics- 20 Greatest Hits (1957-60) [hr]
Gene Vincent: Best Of (1956-63) [A+]
Hall & Oates: The Essential Collection (1974-2001) [NO]
The Impressions: Definitive (1961-68) [hr]
Talking Heads: Bonus Rarities and Outtakes (1975-92)

BOXED SETS
Big Star: Keep an Eye on the Sky (1970-74) [r]

BOOTLEGS
Oasis: The Early Years (1992-95)

LISTS & COMMENTS ETC.
The List of Lists 2010
The Best Records of 2010
Welcome & Introduction

***

ALL-TIME TOP ALBUMS [through 2009]
1. The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds (Capitol 1966)
2. Television: Marquee Moon (Elektra 1977)
3. The Beatles (Apple 1968)
4. Miles Davis: Kind of Blue (Columbia 1959)
5. John Coltrane: Giant Steps (Atlantic 1960)
6. Big Star: Third/Sister Lovers (PVC 1978)
7. John Coltrane: A Love Supreme (Impulse! 1964)
8. My Bloody Valentine: Loveless (Sire 1991)
9. Wire: Pink Flag (Harvest 1977)
10. The Beatles: Rubber Soul (Parlophone 1965)
11. The Velvet Underground (MGM 1969)
12. The Kinks: The Village Green Preservation Society (Reprise 1968)
13. The Beatles: A Hard Day's Night (Parlophone 1964)
14. The Clash: London Calling (Epic 1979)
15. Stevie Wonder: Innervisions (Tamla 1973)
16. Talking Heads: More Songs About Buildings and Food (Sire 1978)
17. Love: Forever Changes (Elektra 1967)
18. Talking Heads: Remain in Light (Sire 1980)
19. Prince: Sign o' the Times (Warner Bros. 1987)
20. The Clash (Epic 1977)
21. The Fugees: The Score (Columbia 1996)
22. Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out (Matador 2000)
23. Otis Redding: Otis Blue (Volt 1965)
24. De La Soul: 3 Feet High and Rising (Tommy Boy 1989)
25. The Velvet Underground: Loaded (Cotillon 1970)
26. Patti Smith: Horses (Arista 1975)
27. The Replacements: Let It Be (Twin/Tone 1984)
28. Big Star: Radio City (Stax 1973)
29. A Tribe Called Quest: The Low End Theory (Jive 1991)
30. Thelonious Monk: Straight, No Chaser (Columbia 1967)
31. Stevie Wonder: Songs in the Key of Life (Tamla 1976)
32. Prince: Purple Rain (Warner Bros. 1984)
33. Sly & the Family Stone: Stand! (Epic 1969)
34. Richard & Linda Thompson: Shoot Out the Lights (Hannibal 1982)
35. Neil Young: Tonight's the Night (Reprise 1975)
36. The Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs (Merge 1999)
37. King Sunny Ade: Juju Music (Mango 1982)
38. Miles Davis: Sketches of Spain (Columbia 1960)
39. With the Beatles (Parlophone 1963)
40. Prince: 1999 (Warner Bros. 1982)
41. Parliament Mothership Connection (Casablanca 1975)
42. Brian Eno: Another Green World (Island 1975)
43. Miles Davis: Seven Steps to Heaven (Columbia 1963)
44. Neutral Milk Hotel: In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (Merge 1998)
45. Michael Jackson: Off the Wall (Epic 1979)
46. Beatles for Sale (Parlophone 1964)
47. The Byrds: Sweetheart of the Rodeo (Columbia 1968)
48. The Velvet Underground: White Light/White Heat (Verve 1968)
49. The Zombies: Odessey and Oracle (Columbia 1968)
50. The Soft Boys: Underwater Moonlight (Armageddon 1980)
51. John Coltrane: Ballads (Impulse! 1962)
52. Howlin' Wolf (Chess 1962)
53. Van Morrison: Astral Weeks (Warner Bros. 1968)
54. Miles Davis: Birth of the Cool (Capitol 1950)
55. Cannonball Adderley: Somethin' Else (Blue Note 1958)
56. Ramones (Sire 1976)
57. Neil Young: Zuma (Reprise 1975)
58. David Bowie: Lodger (RCA 1979)
59. Marvin Gaye: Here, My Dear (Tamla 1978)
60. Neil Young: On the Beach (Reprise 1974)
61. Stevie Wonder: Fulfillingness' First Finale (Tamla 1974)
62. Neil Young: After the Gold Rush (Reprise 1970)
63. John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band (Apple 1970)
64. The New York Dolls (Mercury 1973)
65. The Go-Betweens: Spring Hill Fair (Sire 1984)
66. John Coltrane: Om (Impulse! 1965)
67. Funkadelic: Let's Take It to the Stage (Westbound 1975)
68. Bob Dylan: Highway 61 Revisited (Columbia 1965)
69. R.E.M.: Lifes Rich Pageant (I.R.S. 1986)
70. The Clash: Sandinista! (Epic 1980)
71. XTC: Skylarking (Geffen 1986)
72. Run-DMC: Raising Hell (Arista 1986)
73. The Rolling Stones: Sticky Fingers (Atlantic 1971)
74. Wire: Chairs Missing (Harvest 1978)
75. Radiohead: In Rainbows (s/r 2007)
76. Leonard Cohen: The Future (Columbia 1992)
77. Pavement: Slanted and Enchanted (Matador 1992)
78. Yo La Tengo: I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One (Matador 1997)
79. Kanye West: The College Dropout (Def Jam 2004)
80. The Jam: All Mod Cons (Polydor 1978)
81. Marvin Gaye: Let's Get It On (Tamla 1973)
82. Blondie: Parallel Lines (Chrysalis 1978)
83. The Beach Boys: Love You (Reprise 1977)
84. Brian Eno: Before and After Science (Polydor 1977)
85. A Tribe Called Quest: Midnight Marauders (Jive 1993)
86. Blur: Parklife (EMI 1994)
87. The Notorious B.I.G.: Ready to Die (Bad Boy 1994)
88. The Beach Boys: Friends (Capitol 1968)
89. The Kinks: Arthur (Reprise 1969)
90. Pavement: Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain (Matador 1994)
91. Yo La Tengo: Fakebook (Bar/None 1990) *
92. Pet Shop Boys: Behavior (EMI 1990)
93. Nas: Illmatic (Columbia 1994)
94. The Beatles: Abbey Road (Apple 1969)
95. David Bowie: Low (RCA 1977)
96. The Kinks: Something Else (Reprise 1967)
97. John Coltrane: Africa/Brass (Impulse! 1961)
98. The Beach Boys: Wild Honey (Capitol 1967)
99. Fleetwood Mac: Rumours (Warner Bros. 1977)
100. Neil Young: Time Fades Away (Reprise 1973)
101. Yo La Tengo: I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass (Matador 2006)

OFF!: First Four EPs (2011)

(Vice)

RECOMMENDED

Happy New Year! Welcome to 1981, where we have some thrash for you. It's like Pink Flag is brand new and the Replacements' graduation to swank songwriting never happened. The misleadingly named First Four EPs is the product of what amounts to a supergroup in hardcore punk parlance, so not really much of a supergroup (no Jeff Beck in sight), which is good. OFF! is the project primarily of Keith Morris of Black Flag and the Circle Jerks, it races along at a clip, dropping its sixteen songs in barely eighteen furious minutes. Doesn't sound too appealing, and the cover is godawfully ugly, but don't underestimate the timelessness of the brash, obnoxious garage sound. Morris pushes it along perfectly, with a youthfully disaffected snarl. It's nothing original, nothing even particularly special or offbeat -- but it's a liberating noise, still as ever.

Besides Morris, the band consists of members of Red Kross, Burning Brides, and Rocket from the Crypt, none of whom have the name recognition of Black Flag and the Circle Jerks, but one doesn't need to be schooled in the first wave of hardcore to enjoy the abrasive, violently brief (all run about a minute) songs here. If your taste for direct plunges into stabbing, minimal, impossibly loud punk haven't diminished with age any more than Morris', you'll fall hard for this record; ignore the stoopid cover.

The 6ths: Wasps' Nests (1995)

(London)

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

"Sixths," "wasps," and "nests" are three of the most difficult words to pronounce in the English language. Did I mention this is a Stephin Merritt project? Essentially, this is a Magnetic Fields album; if you love the Fields, there is not even the slightest chance you won't dig this. Featuring the same adorable keyboard arrangements and tentative beats as the contemporaneous Get Lost, this record finds Merritt exploring the notion of an imaginary Stephin Merritt tribute album featuring many of his friends from the indie rock universe, which -- despite his reputation -- he seems to fully embrace as his own here.

The pedigree for any scholar of '90s college radio is rather astounding; that the CD was released by Polygram says a fair bit about the state of the music industry in 1994-95, the same time that Atlantic had a stake in Matador and just a few years after Geffen paid Sub Pop a pretty penny and a half for Nirvana. The uncomfortable collision of old-world mainstream media companies and scrappy independent music, a bizarre situation Merritt and Claudia Gonson could tell you a few stories about, isn't our concern here. The point is, if you've got Charm of the Highway Strip and 69 Love Songs and Get Lost and the no-synth trilogy but not this, you need it right now! Emergency situation!

And you get to hear exclusive Merritt songs, as lovely as ever, sung by the lovely Chris Knox and the immortal Mitch Easter, plus members of Unrest, Superchunk, Helium, the Clean, and Galaxie 500. There's even a song sung by Merritt himself, "Aging Spinsters," which is completely indistinguishable from the Magnetic Fields, not that the rest of this isn't, since Merritt's hardly been the exclusive vocalist on even the Fields' most popular albums.

But Nathan! you're saying. If this is just like a Magnetic Fields album, well, what the fuck's so special about it? And I say to you: do you realize what you just said!?

I can add this, though, and admit some degree of bias, that one song alone here is worth the whole album's price. One of the only acts in existence today that can stand up with the Magnetic Fields for me is Yo La Tengo, who I still contend are the greatest band in the world at the moment. The Magnetic Fields are the third or fourth best, probably. So when they, in some sense, collaborate, it'd be a big deal anyway. And all of the songs on this album are terrific, but this one really stands out: the monstrously funny and distressing "Movies in My Head," a dead ringer for Yaz-era synthpop, sung by none other than Georgia Hubley. Not only is it staggering and lovely to hear her in Stephin's context, it's a really outstanding song that's actually a cut above the rest of this already excellent material.

What are you waiting for, then? (If you already have this album, I'm sorry for the advert-like tone here, but I think it's warranted.)

The Magnetic Fields: Distortion (2008)

(Nonesuch)

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

It stands to reason in our perverse musical universe that one of the landmark shoegaze albums of recent years was written and recorded by a man who finds guitar noise intolerable, who typically resents the din of fuzzed-out rock music. In fact, when Stephin Merritt saw Superchunk cover his early track "100,000 Fireflies" in the early '90s, he was mortified; that didn't stop him from signing the Magnetic Fields to Superchunk's label, Merge, and maybe he absorbed some of their rough edges. In the early 2000s, the Fields joined a major label and began a "no-synth" trilogy, opening it with the surprisingly conventional pop record i. The sequel, Distortion, turned out to be a major change of pace for Merritt; it could be that its inventive sound and atypically aggressive demeanor were simply the result of brainstorming for keyboard avoidance tactics, but whatever the reason, Merritt injects the harsher corners of alternative rock with some of his most classicist, audaciously pretty Irving Berlin-derived pseudo-standards to date. It hasn't been done before, and it doesn't sound like anything else, in his catalog or outside of it. The juxtaposition alone is frequently stunning, but on top of that, these are the best songs he's put down since 69.

Speaking of which, two of the sixty-nine love songs offer some degree of precedent for Distortion. The one-off joke cut "Punk Love" is the direct antecedent to the more carefully composed mission statement "Three-Way." But more importantly, Merritt's first flirtation with meaty, vaguely sinister guitar hooks on "Underwear" provides a transitional moment for the band before diving into the deep end of pedals and feedback for Distortion. What's most impressive is that the Magnetic Fields don't tentatively stab at shoegaze and fuzz, or make fun of it, they actually burst into it full-bore and craft an utterly convincing, achingly loud torrent of noise and tremor.

Some were no doubt disappointed that only a couple of times does the songwriting bend to the production style; not much here is any angrier or bawdier than the average Magnetic Fields track, nor does it attain the mystery and buried vocals traditional to its aspired genre, but the album's all the better for it. The exceptions do stand out, though. Opener "Three-Way" shouts and chirps along like space age surround-sound Replacements, "Too Drunk to Dream" features an atypically brash Merritt listing the advantages of being "shitfaced," but best of all is the magically malicious "California Girls," an instant classic sung by Shirley Simms. Flipping clichés back and forward and back again, the song is a vicious and unfair attack on the same location-fortunate young ladies unfairly propped up decades ago by the Beach Boys. Merritt filters hatred, resentment, even murder through his unflappably melodic pen; Simms gives it a loyal gung ho. It's a rock & roll masterstroke.

The innovation, however, lies elsewhere, on material like "Please Stop Dancing," "The Nun's Litany," and especially "Drive On, Driver," all stunning compositions; their marriage to aural inferno seems like an ill fit until you hear the sarcasm, immense emotion, and endless confusion of Merritt and Claudia Gonson's vocals cracking through the cacophony like a glimpse of distant warmth. It amplifies these songs not just in the gimmicky, forced sense but in the beauty and intensity of feeling that's always been buried in Merritt's work. Unlike on the still awkward and distant i, the Magnetic Fields here offer some stirring and poetic, and at times gorgeous, human moments.

Merritt always casts silly limitations and rules over his projects, perhaps some hanging left brain cell that must intrude on his work, and it often provides unlikely inspiration. Because he insisted that the thirteen songs on Distortion were to hover around three minutes, the album flies by; its only out-of-place moment is the misplaced, overly goofy "Zombie Boy." Most of the remaining songs stand proudly with the band's '90s work. And there's even a Christmas song in the My Bloody Valentine meets Frank Sinatra style, "Mr. Mistletoe."

Realism, the followup to Distortion, has equally brilliant songs but doesn't stick in the mind as long; that's because Distortion is a textbook example of how a band in its nineteenth year stays young. It is a new page turned, an experiment, a group of people having a blast despite not really knowing quite what they're doing -- again. The Magnetic Fields really need keyboards; they're a keyboard band that wrings head-spinning noise out of synths, and that element has been missing in the last ten years, but Realism could have come along at any point in the band's career because their sound is already predisposed to work in a folk music environment. (The tour behind Distortion saw them strip the songs to acoustic arrangements.) Distortion is something altogether different. Merritt's too excellent a songwriter to really need to stretch like this, but it's a thrill to hear him do it and achieve something this impressive.