Listed below are the overall rankings for the best albums in history as determined by their aggregate positions in over 58,000 different greatest album charts on BestEverAlbums.com! (Chart last updated: 2 hours ago).
"If aliens from another planet landed here and wanted to know what music from earth was like, this is what I would give them. I don't know if words can describe, but this would also serve as my desert island record. I can literally listen to this over and over with a smile on my face. I can't say ...""If aliens from another planet landed here and wanted to know what music from earth was like, this is what I would give them. I don't know if words can describe, but this would also serve as my desert island record. I can literally listen to this over and over with a smile on my face. I can't say that about any other recording that exists. Needless to say, this is my favorite album of all time."[+]Reply
"Ryan Adams actually released THREE albums in 2005, two with The Cardinals and one solo album. My favorite of the three is Cold Roses, a double-CD showing off Ryan and the band doing their best Gram Parsons impression, with some pneumonia-era whiskeytown and faint hints of CSNY thrown in. This is ...""Ryan Adams actually released THREE albums in 2005, two with The Cardinals and one solo album. My favorite of the three is Cold Roses, a double-CD showing off Ryan and the band doing their best Gram Parsons impression, with some pneumonia-era whiskeytown and faint hints of CSNY thrown in. This is his best stuff since Gold, offering his best "magnum-opus" work "magnolia mountain" (near 6 minutes). This album often sounds like 70s country rock, and one of the best songs, including "sweet illusion" (still-in-love-post-breakup-song), "beautiful sorta", "mockingbird", "easy plateau" and "let it ride" (the hit!). The lyrics are usual Ryan Adams fare, ranging from the earnest & near-poetic like "If the morning comes, will you lie to me / Will you take me to your bed / Will you lay me down / Till I'm heavy like the rocks on the riverbed" (magnolia mountain) or "no one leaves the lights on in a house where nobody lives anymore" (when will you come back home) to cheekily-witty like "Everything you ever touched, the fingerprints like / Crime scene evidence undisturbed in dust / I don't dare touch anything of yours, because it's evidence of us" (now that you're gone) or "Sleepyhead, come on let's take a ride / To the easy plateau in the back of your mind / Up through the alley, take the door under the stairs / My head ain't feeling nothing but cats and rocking chairs" (easy plateau). Ryan Adams works the quickest for you if you're in love or just out of love, like on "cherry lane" where Ryan sings "i can never get/be close enough (to you)" repeated through to the impassioned ending yearn. There's an earned assuredness here, like in "dance all night", a simple, straight-ahead, mid-tempo acoustic number you could swear you've heard Ryan do before, but he brings renewed feeling to singing "I ain't lonely now / Yeah, I've got someone I love / Someone I think about / Someone for me to take care of " with lovely harmonies. Of course, his upbeat rockers are pretty damn good too, from "beautiful sorta", and "if i am a stranger" to "let it ride". It's a bar-room, foot-tapper, where ryan adams sings "Let it ride / Let it rock me in the arms of strangers, angels until it brings me home / Let it ride / Let it roll / Let it go" at the chorus. "[+]Reply
"Once, coiled soundly beneath the kaleidoscopic cornucopia of musical excess that was the 1960's, a tidal wave which reached sacred heights but synchronically cannibalized itself ten times over, there was a man. A man who, fit with somber body language and European sensibilities, wore dark sunglas...""Once, coiled soundly beneath the kaleidoscopic cornucopia of musical excess that was the 1960's, a tidal wave which reached sacred heights but synchronically cannibalized itself ten times over, there was a man. A man who, fit with somber body language and European sensibilities, wore dark sunglasses indoors and crooned with regard to the fraudulent nature of suburban, posh societies and serial drinkers who typify carnal, animalistic yearnings on midnight pub parades. The man's name was Scott Walker and he's seemingly lived a thousand lifetimes, shuffling along in the footwear of names past and present, rich and poor, angelic and depraved in equal measure. Here, on 'Scott', Walker begins to chisel out his first, significant artistic personality, free from the restraints of the pop band expectations of the Walker Brothers and into a new era of thought-provoking, thematically challenging baroque pop. On his first solo record, the enigmatic songster registers a mere trio of writing credits, however, it's the ascendancy and grandeur of the LP that transfigures the collective into something wholly idiosyncratic. On 'Scott', a caged, creative genius breathed new air that billowed with currents of Belgian chanteurs and classical composers and laid the bedrock for one of the most beguiling careers of the modern era.
The album begins with 'Mathilde', an English rendition of Jacques Brel's 1964 chanson that details an abusive, romantic entanglement that forever resurrects like a pitiful, desperate phoenix. This is an opportune time to discuss Walker's admiration and veneration for Brel's work, once even calling him the "most important singer-songwriter in the world". Brel's pension to uncover and rhapsodize on all things strange and uncomfortable in society appealed to Walker, during a period where such things weren't touched or even discussed in pop music, let alone music at large. As a result, Walker christened his exodus from the mainstream by breathing life into Brel's haunting, challenging and sunless parables. At their moral best, they're hopeless, demoralizing accounts of unrequited love and at their worst, accounts of molestation, both mentally and physically at the hands of Army officers. Despite Walker's radical and firmly adult direction, his albums began to fall on a more gradually disinterested audience. Yet, it began to plot the roadmap for a rapidly escalating sonic approach that few (if any) could find parallels to. On 'Mathilde', Walker channels Brel while proclaiming, "My hands, you'll start to shake again when you remember all the pain; Mathilde's come back to me; You'll want to beat her black and blue but don't do it, I beg of you." The track is framed within an up-tempo sheen, reminiscent of a march into battle or a swaggering anthem of boisterous victory. The subject's early indecision is apparent with his mind made up by the end of the piece. Walker employed the assistance of three composers on 'Scott', perhaps most synonymously, Angela Morley (then Wally Stott), who would go on to further heights as Walker's arranger. On track two, Montague Terrace (In Blue), one of three penned by Scott himself, Morley crafts a dizzying, yet chic sheen before propelling walls of brass that instantly unionize with Walker's baritone hollers. There's an air of satire purveying here, like a thick vapor. "The girl across the hall makes love; Her thoughts lay cold like shattered stone; Her thighs are full of tales to tell of all the nights she's known," Walker details. It's unclear if the image is one of a much yearned for, idyllic, societal upgrade or a disdain for others' possessions and dispositions.
Arriving third, LP highlight 'Angelica' softly vibrates before segueing into Walker's cries for the song's titular maiden. The organ tones from the onset color the track with melancholy, conjuring images of eulogization for lost love. Walker explains, "Now in my solitude, I tend the flowers that I buy, As they slowly fade and die, watered by the tears I cry." 'Angelica' represents a landmark in the early days of Walker's solo odyssey, as an indication of his desire to routinely croon overtop pessimist anthems far before it was vogue, complete with a dim worldview that would become progressively overcast. Fourth Track, 'The Lady from Baltimore', is Walker's attempt at Tim Hardin's classic. Scott's take is fittingly folky, with the prose in lock-step with his bleak paradigm. His voice sports a twangy timbre, faintly foreshadowing his self-assessed "Wilderness Years" in the early 1970's. However, his foray into folk and flirtation with country is marvelously executed. Walker's most ardent statement on the LP is the final track, 'Amsterdam', a swooning, cinematic recoloring of Jacques Brel's famous live staple. It's through this piece that Walker proves himself to be most worthy to succeed Brel as the patron saint of fatalistic allegories. The track opens with accordion hisses that wash over the empty pockets of sonic space like a patient sunrise as eyelids softly open to greet it. Walker sets the the scene for the finale with a tale of the rawest kind of human desperation, with a pistol of willful ignorance tucked away in its holster. The tale is as much about revelry as it is despair, or maybe more astutely, how the two co-exist in the minds of the downtrodden. 'Amsterdam' steadily ascends, starting as a lone man recounting a drunken memory out loud. Soon, it seems as if others join in (characterized by the power of Walker's vocals). Finally, the collective emerges, taking the form of the swirling instrumentation that rises the tide lead by Walker's voice. It's a picture so vivid that it's hard to disassociate the visual from the track. It's a stunning statement ushered off by Walker's repeated chants. 'Amsterdam' is without question Walker's finest Brel interpretation and one of his career's most prolific efforts.
Noel Scott Engel died on March 22, 2019, but the world knew him as Scott Walker. However, few people knew that he died in 1967 as well. This death did not serve as a passageway to the afterlife, but rather, a reincarnation. An invigoration. A rebirth. 'Scott' remains the genesis of a career that words couldn't succinctly articulate. The Scott Walker of the Walker brothers walked and died, dried up in a desert of creative disillusionment and disgust so that the Scott Walker that would follow could run and consequently, swim oceans fiercely cavernous and artistically unbound. The transaction included trading in a handsome, youthful face for a stern demeanor and a military cap that slumped lower and lower throughout the years, reflecting the thematic directions his music would take while hiding the weathered, hardened features of his face. The seedlings planted within 'Scott' would grow to spawn a wonderous garden whose fruits few would taste. Walker saw very little monetary success throughout the remainder of his career and by 1978, he was a recluse. He would occasionally resurface with records that would scorch earth and send those with their ears to the ground into a frenzy. By some, he is regarded as the most unheralded genius in music history. To others, he was a passing shadow of an assembly line industry of musical malaise. In 1967, with a brilliant, stark solo debut, he began a journey of endless ambition fit with thankless repercussions. It's a journey we all should take, for it is rooted in the very soul of what music should be, endlessly imaginative and unyielding. However, few have the inclination to look at the natural world as Walker did. It's a blessing and a curse.
"In the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who drinks
And he drinks, and he drinks, and he drinks once again,
He drinks to the health of the whores of Amsterdam
Who have promised their love to a thousand other men
They've bargained their bodies and their virtue long gone
For a few dirty coins, and when he can't go on,
He plants his nose in the sky and he wipes it up above,
And he pisses like I cry for an unfaithful love."
-Amsterdam
Standout Tracks:
1. Amsterdam
2. Angelica
3. The Lady from Baltimore
91.6"[+]Reply
"This is the type of pop music i'm into nowadays. Combine queen and elo with a geeky, beat-centric hip-hop album obsessed with lonely nights spent with friends and you have "some nights". "we are young" is great, even if janelle's vocals are rather plain and underutilized. I wish the "some nights ...""This is the type of pop music i'm into nowadays. Combine queen and elo with a geeky, beat-centric hip-hop album obsessed with lonely nights spent with friends and you have "some nights". "we are young" is great, even if janelle's vocals are rather plain and underutilized. I wish the "some nights intro" was extended -- i love the queen-like vocals. Auto-tune is used to good effect in some places and is a bit annoying in other places (where i wish they could've just layered some harmonies instead, like on "stars"). It's a bold choice, both a strength and weakness, for this indie pop band which otherwise has little teeth but a mastery of the pop song."[+]Reply
"Not that they had a ton of albums, but this one is the most underrated. They're at the top of their synth-pop game, with danceable beats and snarks on love all-around. Pretty dark in mood and lyrics but all songs are still up-tempo"Reply