Top 100 Greatest Music Albums
by 
DommeDamian 
Welcome to this danish Aspie, asexual alien's top 100 favorite albums of all time.
What I hope I can get out of this chart, is to inspire some readers and viewers to check out/revisit some music, and/or not be ashamed or afraid of their honest taste. [For more specific chart criteria, visit the beginning of the description of Born To Do It.] If I don't know which record has been spinning the most, I rank higher the ones that are most inspiring to me, either to my life or to my own music*
Compilations, EP's, and especially Posthumous releases are not included!
Also, I want to thank Albummaster for taking action. There is a reason why I have religiously visited this place ever since 2017 (at least thrice a day). Throughout, I've met new people, heard more about music, and been given a platform to create my chart.
10-month-Challenge: In July 2018 I felt I was done working my a$$ off this chart, but then I thought I should challenge myself to something huge, to kind of give my chart a bit of legacy (meaning I didn't put all this effort into my chart, for nothing). For those next 10 months, I MUST NOT listen to ANY other records than these 100, but not only that - it's 10 albums a month: So it went 100-91 in August, 90-81 in September .. all the way to 10-1 in May. Not one song outside the ten LPs of that current month, could be listened to with me not handling the turn-off bottom.
Writing in June: I'm finally done. I did it. I really did it. "I'm FREEEEE" [- The Who]. But for any passionate BEA-user out there, with a Top 100 Albums chart, full of descriptions, I challenge you to do that. Wait, no no no don't do it - you'll get in a lot of mental pain trust me.
*Speaking of which, please please please check my music out at:
https://hyperfollow.com/dommedamian
- Chart updated: 08/05/2024 17:15
- (Created: 05/24/2018 06:11).
- Chart size: 100 albums.
There are 61 comments for this chart from BestEverAlbums.com members and Top 100 Greatest Music Albums has an average rating of 91 out of 100 (from 102 votes). Please log in or register to leave a comment or assign a rating.
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I hate that I sound like an adult movie star, but this 12-inch is soooo goooooooooddd…. But what the heck izz this? How can I put this into words? I simply do not know. My Pink Floyd description is already somebody else's review, so I'd visibly be hiding under the guise of incapability to write my own worded review if I use that method again here. It seems like Syd Barrett is an artist I find exceptionally hard to describe - and if I tried, it'd be even more pretentious than my other comments. Neither Piero Scaruffi nor RateYourMusic quite describe it accurately, nor have the same vision of Barrett as me. I will try my best to write something, but even if I cracked the code, it'll still fall short of this album's madlad brilliance. It's The Madcap Laughs, but more musical, catchier, with absolutely no shade of a shadow of slight inadequacy (or should I say, the absolute weakest moment on here, matches the highest high of the debut and is still infinitely superior to 99% of all musicians greatest works).
Already at the first song, Baby Lemonade, it's hard for me to quite tell why it sticks out. It's folky, but form-wise it's a little out there, the lyrics are so consistent yet consciously don't make sense. Musically, Syd's sophomore record is a big pile of precise sick magical psychedelic beauty. For any average music listener, Barrett is way too complex and maybe next to impossible to get. IC it S X-pression @ its finest. The probable drugs kept him from selling his soul.
I can hardly categorize it - but that’s a compelling chunk. Even for that era's standards, it’s so heavenly atypical. Something you don’t anticipate on your average rock record and even on your typical great record period. This LP is just so full of colorful euphoria. Syd is effective, haunting, calming and raw - and then he has a trump card in his God-given (or drugs-given) ideas, along with his manic-friendly, soothing voice; a ticking bomb of sunny energy, and strange nature. Barrett invented a whole new concept of introvertedness, mothered in comprehensive psychedelic mastery.
"His luminous grin put her in a spin
Maisie lay in the hall with her emeralds
And her diamond brooch, beyond reproach
Bad luck - bride of a bull"
The stream-of-consciousness characterizes this insanity thru the most personal n fitting frame to his eminent, appealing instrumental work (from calm acoustic to reversed electric violin), apace with those unsteady balances of open percussions, all over the tracklisting. As said, his lyrics definitely lift this album up in the class of abnormal supreme legend with their bright renditions of an endless dream, soon turned reality, all about God knows what. Even when I try to look away from Barrett & the essential lyrics, all of the instrumentation, individually and collectively, is a rich lush personality itself, and that's not so often shown that well-executed in other f-(*swallows the word 'folk'*) albums. It's hard to explain since I haven't loved any album, or anything really, the same way I love Barrett.
I have come up with a theory that the amount and type of drugs, mixed with the mindset of Syd, has made him tap into another living dimension, that is both eternally beautiful and a mental deadzone for humans. But, like all of us, Syd was a human being which is why he wasn't able to take it. But, he has turned what he experienced in that universe into a little album, and it is my favorite psychedelic LP of all time. What this completely syrupy classic speaks to me that I also find super compelling, is that a lot of these tunes are reminiscent of dreamcore; this is stuff/music that was produced in my dreams when I wasn't looking. Either it is the weird dreams (Rats, Maisie, Effervescing Elephant) or the sentimental nostalgia (Baby Lemonade, Love Song, Dominoes, Wined And Dined), or the third. A unique skinless dispensing of the place your mind can take you, that at once is so scary and deeply fascinating. With every listen being a different experience than previous, Barrett is wanna the most original, authentically liberating, and wondrous things in my life, proto-life, and after-life, and legend says (aka Syd Barrett says) I still FULLY cannot find good enough things to say about it.
Also, seriously, for a psychedelic folk, could you please have chosen something more adventurous and colorful of artwork, instead of some bugs?! ...Well, maybe next time I'm getting stoned, I'll probably change my mind. [First added to this chart: 07/14/2020]
Already at the first song, Baby Lemonade, it's hard for me to quite tell why it sticks out. It's folky, but form-wise it's a little out there, the lyrics are so consistent yet consciously don't make sense. Musically, Syd's sophomore record is a big pile of precise sick magical psychedelic beauty. For any average music listener, Barrett is way too complex and maybe next to impossible to get. IC it S X-pression @ its finest. The probable drugs kept him from selling his soul.
I can hardly categorize it - but that’s a compelling chunk. Even for that era's standards, it’s so heavenly atypical. Something you don’t anticipate on your average rock record and even on your typical great record period. This LP is just so full of colorful euphoria. Syd is effective, haunting, calming and raw - and then he has a trump card in his God-given (or drugs-given) ideas, along with his manic-friendly, soothing voice; a ticking bomb of sunny energy, and strange nature. Barrett invented a whole new concept of introvertedness, mothered in comprehensive psychedelic mastery.
"His luminous grin put her in a spin
Maisie lay in the hall with her emeralds
And her diamond brooch, beyond reproach
Bad luck - bride of a bull"
The stream-of-consciousness characterizes this insanity thru the most personal n fitting frame to his eminent, appealing instrumental work (from calm acoustic to reversed electric violin), apace with those unsteady balances of open percussions, all over the tracklisting. As said, his lyrics definitely lift this album up in the class of abnormal supreme legend with their bright renditions of an endless dream, soon turned reality, all about God knows what. Even when I try to look away from Barrett & the essential lyrics, all of the instrumentation, individually and collectively, is a rich lush personality itself, and that's not so often shown that well-executed in other f-(*swallows the word 'folk'*) albums. It's hard to explain since I haven't loved any album, or anything really, the same way I love Barrett.
I have come up with a theory that the amount and type of drugs, mixed with the mindset of Syd, has made him tap into another living dimension, that is both eternally beautiful and a mental deadzone for humans. But, like all of us, Syd was a human being which is why he wasn't able to take it. But, he has turned what he experienced in that universe into a little album, and it is my favorite psychedelic LP of all time. What this completely syrupy classic speaks to me that I also find super compelling, is that a lot of these tunes are reminiscent of dreamcore; this is stuff/music that was produced in my dreams when I wasn't looking. Either it is the weird dreams (Rats, Maisie, Effervescing Elephant) or the sentimental nostalgia (Baby Lemonade, Love Song, Dominoes, Wined And Dined), or the third. A unique skinless dispensing of the place your mind can take you, that at once is so scary and deeply fascinating. With every listen being a different experience than previous, Barrett is wanna the most original, authentically liberating, and wondrous things in my life, proto-life, and after-life, and legend says (aka Syd Barrett says) I still FULLY cannot find good enough things to say about it.
Also, seriously, for a psychedelic folk, could you please have chosen something more adventurous and colorful of artwork, instead of some bugs?! ...Well, maybe next time I'm getting stoned, I'll probably change my mind. [First added to this chart: 07/14/2020]
Year of Release:
1970
Appears in:
Rank Score:
887
Rank in 1970:
Rank in 1970s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
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Singlehandedly the most important record in my life. Yes, this is the only and I mean the ONLY album that, by high definition, changed me and my life. Up yours, if Hopsin is not the most poetic or lyrical or beat-worthy or whatever MC you'll ever know, his way of completely and utterly understanding me and that fact he has created an unbreakable, virtually unsurpassable reflection of my life and states of mind with Knock Madness, is more than what anyone has ever accomplished. Screw you circle jerks for having a strong opinion about me being a Hopsin fan, continued threatening and bullying me online isn’t gonna help your case (I was considering putting this at #1 for a while, yeeeaah!).
KM started the ultimate butterfly effect in my life. Before the album nollie tre flipped into my life, I was terribly suppressed and depressed, as a human and spirit, by the society around me, principally my family members. Everyone was pushing me to be as controlled, and normal as possible. And it largely worked, because I was taught that misery and genuine sadness were me overreacting and it was me that had to learn to adapt. If I got bullied or physically assaulted, I got punished for it. When I bought this album and started listening to it religiously, everything went sideways. Hopsin, by way of lyrical combat skills and musical engrossment, reinvented how I thought of myself and the world. The sheer confidence of expressing the skeleton in the closet in Hop's delivery boosted my own ability to speak my mind. My different [personality] traits got enhanced and I embraced it. It birthed my punk rock spirit, I rebelled against what was wrong in my life. The effect continued when my bluntness also resulted in depression coming out of its hiding place, yet helped me push away all the damaging folks. My mom helped to realize the toxicity under our roof, and for that, she's also grateful for what Hopsin has done.
Often, when people say an album changed their lives, they mean altered their music tastes. In that case, Knock Madness is highly credited to me as I quickly got into alternative music in general. Sonically, cause I instantly was more open to the beauty of imperfections, and aesthetically cause it became cool that everything was done by one person instead of a team. For nearly every cool album you see me praising, I wouldn't have loved, liked, or even checked out, had this album not kicked these locked doors open, and moved me away from muzak consumerism.
Over a decade later, the result is palpable. That individual described as open-minded, honest, authentic, mysterious, etc, is the one whose New Testament is Knock Madness. On top of all this, I have loads of nostalgia for it too. It takes me back to playing video games at home, early night walks in the city, and my spirit learning what authenticity and bravery are.
Trying to underestimate the influence of this album on me is like trying to sweep The Velvet Underground’s influence on rock music under the rug. Getting rid of Knock Madness’ permanent mark on me is like getting rid of autism, it’s a lost cause and shouldn’t happen. More 'bout the record now.
Hopsin’s two-sided mindset portrayed in his music is dopamine embodiment. Whether it would be extremely vigorous, superb Hip Hop Sinister or the rhythmic avalanche Rip Your Heart Out, he'd always express the aggressive, super energetic side of me. What makes last mentioned it a special tune, is that the instrumental is shaped to rap fast (and although it has weighed off me a lot, and I find 85% of it pointless and empty, this fire tune is 4 minutes of ripping out my lung capacity). Contrarily, Still Got Love For You is produced for the playful attitude of fast flow (as phenomenally showcased by Hop’s verses).
Simultaneously the Marcus songs like the paramount goosebumper Caught In The Rain, the tremendous Old Friend, or the dystopian Dream Forever (roughly makes my heart skip a beat), he is describing a humane emotion, so magically thriving. This brilliant record always sounds exciting to me for every single track on there, while/well it IS more than very exciting every time I bump it.
One of the greatest, most astounding things about Hopsin, is that he always puts the music as a rare species into perspective, and takes hidden chances, rather than hiding his image behind samples. A shining example is (previously mentioned) both ‘radio-friendly’ and gleamingly elegant Still Got Love For You, where the chorus demonstrates balls by Hopsin singing falsely ON PURPOSE (with staggering effect), thus flipping the whistling bird to major labels and critics; he can do whatever he wants (sing off-key, speak his ill mind), and he does it exceptionally.
He was a hitherto resistance fighter against at-the-time hated rappers like Soulja Boy, and Lil Wayne. On lead single Hop Is Back, he takes another chance and goes up against the higher-beloved temporary icons like Kanye and Kendrick. The tune has to that extent received a mixed reception from different points of view. For me, with such a super infectious newschool-The Next Episode-typebeat and his animalistically carefree delivery (a spin-off of Eminem), it is an impossible task for my smiley face to withstand. Nollie Tré Flip, which is a true seasonal skater anthem for the ears, both for cold winter nights or the middle of the summer - it’s blazingly delivered.
There's of course also the combination of Marcus and Hopsin on songs like Good Guys Get Left Behind and I Need Help (a direct discourse between both alternate egos), formerly mentioned are some of the deep thoughts and feelings I've had with females in the past, but I never even dared to admit (just the) frames of those feelings, even for myself - as I was suppressed inside-out. So for Hop to have written those cuts that I heard at a very strange time in my life, it's unbelievable.
And then there are hooks. Anyone and everyone who listens to Knock Madness and makes bad remarks about the hooks is self-selected and jumped into the trap. Our character describes how the textual ‘quality’ of these newly applauded acts destroys the industry, and he feels it is a disaster. Commercialized hooks must be the least important element in a rap number, and Hopsin gets it daringly illustrated by satirizing it. Additionally, by their imperfections, making them more immaculate. That imho, is intelligence and art!
Everything about and around KM is fearless (most definitely, relatability-wise). When my life is over, I would still stand by my statement that it is one of my life's most clearly principal works, musically. Hopsin’s music enhanced not only my open-mindedness for all genres of music, but also my personality traits and roads of life.
And it’s all right there in Knock Madness. A winding and bloody horror cabinet of monster-cuts. A consistently fascinating record, with so many personal stories, humorous moments, and progressiveness, that it cannot fit my mind of mine sometimes. EVEN lovelier considering the fact that he has written, composed, and produced all of it in independence, by himself (minus the guests). And the guests add so much more character to the individual tracks: SwizZz on flamboyant and cinematic tribal belter Jungle Bash. Jarren Benton (with the sour voice) and Dizzy Wright (as an appealing stoner) on the grotesque horror core banger Who’s There. Previously mentioned Rip Your Heart Out gets Tech N9NE from Strange Music to spit the heat, teaming up with our main character. Finally, the two more unknown but cathartic (Passionate MC and G-Mo Skee) on the splendidly wavy and lyrical gratification Lunch Time Cypher, a throwback of sorts to good freestyle memories in the primary school days (“fuck all that Hollywood shit, let’s fucking rap man”).
Theres only so much room in this description (characters are running out now), but Imma finish by saying, Marcus, thank you. To anyone further wondering how much of my life has changed, feel free to contact me; I’m way better at explaining them in dialogue. To any viewer/reader, who says to me that Hopsin sucks nuts, I’ll jump-kick yo ass thru the glass o'de booth window. [First added to this chart: 05/24/2018]
KM started the ultimate butterfly effect in my life. Before the album nollie tre flipped into my life, I was terribly suppressed and depressed, as a human and spirit, by the society around me, principally my family members. Everyone was pushing me to be as controlled, and normal as possible. And it largely worked, because I was taught that misery and genuine sadness were me overreacting and it was me that had to learn to adapt. If I got bullied or physically assaulted, I got punished for it. When I bought this album and started listening to it religiously, everything went sideways. Hopsin, by way of lyrical combat skills and musical engrossment, reinvented how I thought of myself and the world. The sheer confidence of expressing the skeleton in the closet in Hop's delivery boosted my own ability to speak my mind. My different [personality] traits got enhanced and I embraced it. It birthed my punk rock spirit, I rebelled against what was wrong in my life. The effect continued when my bluntness also resulted in depression coming out of its hiding place, yet helped me push away all the damaging folks. My mom helped to realize the toxicity under our roof, and for that, she's also grateful for what Hopsin has done.
Often, when people say an album changed their lives, they mean altered their music tastes. In that case, Knock Madness is highly credited to me as I quickly got into alternative music in general. Sonically, cause I instantly was more open to the beauty of imperfections, and aesthetically cause it became cool that everything was done by one person instead of a team. For nearly every cool album you see me praising, I wouldn't have loved, liked, or even checked out, had this album not kicked these locked doors open, and moved me away from muzak consumerism.
Over a decade later, the result is palpable. That individual described as open-minded, honest, authentic, mysterious, etc, is the one whose New Testament is Knock Madness. On top of all this, I have loads of nostalgia for it too. It takes me back to playing video games at home, early night walks in the city, and my spirit learning what authenticity and bravery are.
Trying to underestimate the influence of this album on me is like trying to sweep The Velvet Underground’s influence on rock music under the rug. Getting rid of Knock Madness’ permanent mark on me is like getting rid of autism, it’s a lost cause and shouldn’t happen. More 'bout the record now.
Hopsin’s two-sided mindset portrayed in his music is dopamine embodiment. Whether it would be extremely vigorous, superb Hip Hop Sinister or the rhythmic avalanche Rip Your Heart Out, he'd always express the aggressive, super energetic side of me. What makes last mentioned it a special tune, is that the instrumental is shaped to rap fast (and although it has weighed off me a lot, and I find 85% of it pointless and empty, this fire tune is 4 minutes of ripping out my lung capacity). Contrarily, Still Got Love For You is produced for the playful attitude of fast flow (as phenomenally showcased by Hop’s verses).
Simultaneously the Marcus songs like the paramount goosebumper Caught In The Rain, the tremendous Old Friend, or the dystopian Dream Forever (roughly makes my heart skip a beat), he is describing a humane emotion, so magically thriving. This brilliant record always sounds exciting to me for every single track on there, while/well it IS more than very exciting every time I bump it.
One of the greatest, most astounding things about Hopsin, is that he always puts the music as a rare species into perspective, and takes hidden chances, rather than hiding his image behind samples. A shining example is (previously mentioned) both ‘radio-friendly’ and gleamingly elegant Still Got Love For You, where the chorus demonstrates balls by Hopsin singing falsely ON PURPOSE (with staggering effect), thus flipping the whistling bird to major labels and critics; he can do whatever he wants (sing off-key, speak his ill mind), and he does it exceptionally.
He was a hitherto resistance fighter against at-the-time hated rappers like Soulja Boy, and Lil Wayne. On lead single Hop Is Back, he takes another chance and goes up against the higher-beloved temporary icons like Kanye and Kendrick. The tune has to that extent received a mixed reception from different points of view. For me, with such a super infectious newschool-The Next Episode-typebeat and his animalistically carefree delivery (a spin-off of Eminem), it is an impossible task for my smiley face to withstand. Nollie Tré Flip, which is a true seasonal skater anthem for the ears, both for cold winter nights or the middle of the summer - it’s blazingly delivered.
There's of course also the combination of Marcus and Hopsin on songs like Good Guys Get Left Behind and I Need Help (a direct discourse between both alternate egos), formerly mentioned are some of the deep thoughts and feelings I've had with females in the past, but I never even dared to admit (just the) frames of those feelings, even for myself - as I was suppressed inside-out. So for Hop to have written those cuts that I heard at a very strange time in my life, it's unbelievable.
And then there are hooks. Anyone and everyone who listens to Knock Madness and makes bad remarks about the hooks is self-selected and jumped into the trap. Our character describes how the textual ‘quality’ of these newly applauded acts destroys the industry, and he feels it is a disaster. Commercialized hooks must be the least important element in a rap number, and Hopsin gets it daringly illustrated by satirizing it. Additionally, by their imperfections, making them more immaculate. That imho, is intelligence and art!
Everything about and around KM is fearless (most definitely, relatability-wise). When my life is over, I would still stand by my statement that it is one of my life's most clearly principal works, musically. Hopsin’s music enhanced not only my open-mindedness for all genres of music, but also my personality traits and roads of life.
And it’s all right there in Knock Madness. A winding and bloody horror cabinet of monster-cuts. A consistently fascinating record, with so many personal stories, humorous moments, and progressiveness, that it cannot fit my mind of mine sometimes. EVEN lovelier considering the fact that he has written, composed, and produced all of it in independence, by himself (minus the guests). And the guests add so much more character to the individual tracks: SwizZz on flamboyant and cinematic tribal belter Jungle Bash. Jarren Benton (with the sour voice) and Dizzy Wright (as an appealing stoner) on the grotesque horror core banger Who’s There. Previously mentioned Rip Your Heart Out gets Tech N9NE from Strange Music to spit the heat, teaming up with our main character. Finally, the two more unknown but cathartic (Passionate MC and G-Mo Skee) on the splendidly wavy and lyrical gratification Lunch Time Cypher, a throwback of sorts to good freestyle memories in the primary school days (“fuck all that Hollywood shit, let’s fucking rap man”).
Theres only so much room in this description (characters are running out now), but Imma finish by saying, Marcus, thank you. To anyone further wondering how much of my life has changed, feel free to contact me; I’m way better at explaining them in dialogue. To any viewer/reader, who says to me that Hopsin sucks nuts, I’ll jump-kick yo ass thru the glass o'de booth window. [First added to this chart: 05/24/2018]
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Good idea: Please skip this paragraph if you haven’t watched How To Train Your Dragon. Summer 2020 was one of the most important and massively extraordinary period of my life.I played this, like it played a huge part of my identity shaping of that time, principally August. I felt like I found myself again. Even if it only lasted a couple of months, I remember it like it was yesterday. I went down to my cottage, placed where wifi is virtually non-existent and the ocean is a lovely neighbor. It was hot everyday, like 30° at minimum, sometimes I had to stay inside. For the entirety, I wore nothing but basket-shorts and, occasionally, a visor and sandals. In the cottage (since there’s no internet) they have a TV and hundreds of DVD’s. Loads of adult (violent, drama) stuff and children’s. I made a pile of movies I would watch, and I have a good chunk from both (for nostalgic and entertaining reasons). Some of the children’s including Garfield 1&2, Ice Age and Wall-E and the other movies for older were Brødre, Inception, Kiss of The Dragon, The Godfather (!) and War of The Worlds. But the standout was How To Train Your Dragon (from the children’s section), and I remember watching it twice in theater but not since, that’s probably why I didn’t think much of it. When I chose to watch it, I was blown away. Especially with Toothless, I think I have found my spirit animal; a night fury dragon. Every single move, emotional statement, even down to the representation of his kind, I could see my own reflection. The patience of flying, the subtle special interests, the general learning of friendship, everything clicked. The way Astrid ended up loving and trusting Hiccup along the way, was also surely emotionally amusing. I felt like a higher spiritual being, and the best version of myself. There was even a few days where I wouldn’t talk to anyone, but communicate with animals around me (even the bugs). I was free. Genuinely free. Through that time, this album was the soundtrack and it did a perfect job. From he topic of its songs, through the old soul of the music, to the everlasting harmony, Fleet Foxes’ self-titled and How To Train Your Dragon is the epitome of a spiritual connection for me, perhaps in family with each other. Simply writing about it, doesn’t give justice to those feels, but the miracle that it even happened is to thank God for. When we’re in company, the fear of death collapses into the eeriness of Mother Nature.
This is such a good winter album with replay value. However it doesn't loose its potency and beauty, whenever season I'm listening. And when I am listening, it's almost convincing that the record could be recorded out in the woods, daytime to nighttime. Robin Pecknold is the angelic captain in the woods of freedom. As I listen, I run through the forest, with an endless yet humane cardio. As I listen, I visit a mysterious village. As I listen, I climb a mountain. As I listen, I swim in a waterfall of compassion. As I listen, I bond with my spiritual animal. As I listen, I wonder how human musicians put so much of the infinite soul into it. I mean even before this debut from the quintet saw the light of day back in 2008, several of the leading foreign rock magazines were completely up to the back legs and laughed fiercely with the tail of bare enthusiasm. With just a few hearings, it is clear that Fleet Foxes is neither hype nor clever overexposure. The self-titled album is simply superb. Fleet Foxes pull back deep tracks to the 60s and 70s. The chilling vocal harmonies lead the minds of the best in the game, who in turn musically blend in with the best traditions of americana, appalachian people, gospel and the most adorable dream pop. Yet the difference between most harmony group and Fleet Foxes, is that FF are not focusing on flexing vocal range even nearly as much as touching people with sincerity in their voices. Sun It Rises, Quiet Houses and Heard Them Stirring (just to name a few) are pure madrigal hymns with the most outstanding and underplayed arrangements with Hammond, banjo, piano and delightful acoustic guitar characters (instrumentally, the entire 40 minutes is hard not to fall in love with). Singer Robin Peckhold sings direct and right into the soul in Tiger Mountain Peasant Song (terrifying lyrics sitting up at the exceptionally captivating melody/atmosphere), He Doesn't Know Why (love the travelin' vibe), and the greatly melancholic Your Protector with a voice that resonates when the high notes hits, right beside the band's generally inspired mood. It is real mature, with a delightful childlike kindness/openness. And obviously White Winter Hymnal is chilling: my music-class performed this song collectively for the remaining high school students, it was only increasing my love for that song. If it wasn't for the foggily depressed lyrics, I would sing these songs to my children. But even there, Fleet Foxes hits a musical vein, which comes with a rarely heard empathy, unmatched in contemporary indie - and for me, in all of music. [First added to this chart: 07/14/2020]
This is such a good winter album with replay value. However it doesn't loose its potency and beauty, whenever season I'm listening. And when I am listening, it's almost convincing that the record could be recorded out in the woods, daytime to nighttime. Robin Pecknold is the angelic captain in the woods of freedom. As I listen, I run through the forest, with an endless yet humane cardio. As I listen, I visit a mysterious village. As I listen, I climb a mountain. As I listen, I swim in a waterfall of compassion. As I listen, I bond with my spiritual animal. As I listen, I wonder how human musicians put so much of the infinite soul into it. I mean even before this debut from the quintet saw the light of day back in 2008, several of the leading foreign rock magazines were completely up to the back legs and laughed fiercely with the tail of bare enthusiasm. With just a few hearings, it is clear that Fleet Foxes is neither hype nor clever overexposure. The self-titled album is simply superb. Fleet Foxes pull back deep tracks to the 60s and 70s. The chilling vocal harmonies lead the minds of the best in the game, who in turn musically blend in with the best traditions of americana, appalachian people, gospel and the most adorable dream pop. Yet the difference between most harmony group and Fleet Foxes, is that FF are not focusing on flexing vocal range even nearly as much as touching people with sincerity in their voices. Sun It Rises, Quiet Houses and Heard Them Stirring (just to name a few) are pure madrigal hymns with the most outstanding and underplayed arrangements with Hammond, banjo, piano and delightful acoustic guitar characters (instrumentally, the entire 40 minutes is hard not to fall in love with). Singer Robin Peckhold sings direct and right into the soul in Tiger Mountain Peasant Song (terrifying lyrics sitting up at the exceptionally captivating melody/atmosphere), He Doesn't Know Why (love the travelin' vibe), and the greatly melancholic Your Protector with a voice that resonates when the high notes hits, right beside the band's generally inspired mood. It is real mature, with a delightful childlike kindness/openness. And obviously White Winter Hymnal is chilling: my music-class performed this song collectively for the remaining high school students, it was only increasing my love for that song. If it wasn't for the foggily depressed lyrics, I would sing these songs to my children. But even there, Fleet Foxes hits a musical vein, which comes with a rarely heard empathy, unmatched in contemporary indie - and for me, in all of music. [First added to this chart: 07/14/2020]
Year of Release:
2008
Appears in:
Rank Score:
10,466
Rank in 2008:
Rank in 2000s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Buy album
- #Sponsored
Just like a country album can have the atmosphere/mood/lifestyle/vibe of being on the countryside, with your friends or family in leather clothing, eating some barbecues or something - Dangerous describes an atmosphere to a lifestyle that I just cannot explain. It is the exact lifestyle that fits me or not only hits close to home but home, yet I can never explain nor metaphorically state the tone of it. Even my fellow Moonwalkers don’t understand it. Maybe the only thing so far that I can express about that atmosphere is its nocturnal (like noir but in a much more observant, lush yet devastating environment) - and even in my ages/years I was completely different from now plus don’t proudly look back at, one thing that I’ve always been is a nocturnal-esque human. The soul is mysterious so when something hits, strikes, let alone lives inside your soul, it's difficult to describe as opposed to when something hits your heart.
A small theory of mine (in a sea of small theories regarding this) is that on this album, and generally on his 90s albums, his inner traumatic and sheer frightening life experience came through, though hidden behind the brawls and tortured yet controlled chaotic scream-singing, as well as the cryptic yet dopamine-inducing grooves. Like his childhood longing and struggles (as he very often mentioned in interviews but mostly everyone turned a blind eye on) was metaphorically locked away in a cage deepened within his mind and heart because of adulthood. But just like you cannot hide the truth forever, you cannot hide pain forever, which is where the (imo) most musically potent cry ever captured on wax comes through in the songs, and it's like I am the only person hearing it despite it having sold over 20mio copies. In his 80s music, he was the greatest singer and greatest entertainer, but here he truly became the greatest musician and artist who have ever lived to me. And that is without going in any details about any particular song or part of a song (like a statement, a vocal performance, section within the composition etc) in the album.
But instead of spending the description for my very most special album on things I cannot explain, let’s do the opposite.
This is, hands down and cut off, the best album to dance to, front to back. Don’t overthink the album, feel it.
There’s not space enough to talk about every track, but lemme do mention some. So Lord forgive me for the sin I’m doing now, of not mentioning the other supreme masterpieces on here.
Jam (the destroyer of an opener)’s first sound is my all-time favorite drum (if I have to pick one out of thousands), then a thick glass-breaking sound (something that, even as a little, I find both scary and cool), but ultimately fascinatingly matching to the drum. It’s like when Bruce Springsteen described the beginning sound of Like A Rolling Stone (Highway 61 Revisited) as “a snare shot that sounded like somebody’d kicked open the door to your mind” … I’d say that for my description that the first two seconds of Jam [(Dangerous)], is a direct shot that feels like somebody’d broke the maxi-glass window to your mind. Within the count of four, I’ve been invaded, and the thieves of sound, knowledge and emotion take my breath away. By the title track, they are honing my mind, and my words are also stolen when they disappear into thin air on the last bobbly effect.
Out of those genres and topics, that Dangerous is expanded with, it contains pretty much favorites from every single one; it includes harmoniously sonorous atmospheric rock in Give In To Me and a personal high-point for singer-songwriter high point in Gone Too Soon, which poignantly addresses the realism of death as it was written to a late 18-year old Ryan. The album dives into contemporary R&B and New Jack Swing with tracks like the lo-fi Why You Wanna Trip On Me , In The Closet that balances otherworldly grooves and classical, the crushingly thrilling Cannot Let Her Get Away, and the curvingly supernatural Who Is It. The title track is a fearless, seven-minute dance odyssey. Both that and also the four minute impeccability She Drives Me Wild [that was my second most played song of 2023 after Billie Jean, heard it at least a thousand times that year no sarcasm at all] borders on Industrial Rock, predating The Downward Spiral's drums of viciousness by three years.
Dangerous also features (imo) Michael's most fervent world-changing anthem Heal The World, alongside the catchy classic on racism Black Or White, and the non-preachy, spiritual Keep The Faith. Having listened to everything from Neutral Milk Hotel to Phil Elverum, the Doors to Stevie Wonder, and Bob Dylan, I confidently say that Will You Be There is the most emotional and real recording I’ve ever felt. Songs, albums and musicians I am usually feeling a lot, but this definingly transcendent tune mind blows me every spin, a step even further.
I mean what should I say, how could I say anything? This feels very unlike the rest of my favorite records. I want to praise it with all my heart but…It’s like talking to the girl I’m completely in love with, as opposed to my latest great and my dearest closest friends: I cannot find the (right) words. Simultaneously, It’s like a one-two-three-four(…)-fourteen punch of godlike grooves, thunderous emotion, supreme musical mastery, and a voice that makes angels sound kitsch. Its definitively beautiful way of rising it to a level where majestic is an understatement. No doubt, Michael is the greatest thing, the world has produced, in terms of vocals/voice, and musical persona(lities), past, present and for the future; he is the almost the musical equivalent to Jesus Christ. And this statement only becomes clearer and clearer, the more deservedly time, Dangerous gets play. Seriously, I can take half a year to more than year long vacation, from Michael’s discography, and as soon as I get back (home) to that, they surpasses literally every body of work, I’ve listen to/studied/yni, throughout the vacation…by ‘they’ surpasses, I mean his others records too [if I go listen to him, it's so hard to listen to anything else, knowing nothing will reach it]. Virtually, atmospherically and emotionally unsurpassable. [First added to this chart: 06/30/2019]
A small theory of mine (in a sea of small theories regarding this) is that on this album, and generally on his 90s albums, his inner traumatic and sheer frightening life experience came through, though hidden behind the brawls and tortured yet controlled chaotic scream-singing, as well as the cryptic yet dopamine-inducing grooves. Like his childhood longing and struggles (as he very often mentioned in interviews but mostly everyone turned a blind eye on) was metaphorically locked away in a cage deepened within his mind and heart because of adulthood. But just like you cannot hide the truth forever, you cannot hide pain forever, which is where the (imo) most musically potent cry ever captured on wax comes through in the songs, and it's like I am the only person hearing it despite it having sold over 20mio copies. In his 80s music, he was the greatest singer and greatest entertainer, but here he truly became the greatest musician and artist who have ever lived to me. And that is without going in any details about any particular song or part of a song (like a statement, a vocal performance, section within the composition etc) in the album.
But instead of spending the description for my very most special album on things I cannot explain, let’s do the opposite.
This is, hands down and cut off, the best album to dance to, front to back. Don’t overthink the album, feel it.
There’s not space enough to talk about every track, but lemme do mention some. So Lord forgive me for the sin I’m doing now, of not mentioning the other supreme masterpieces on here.
Jam (the destroyer of an opener)’s first sound is my all-time favorite drum (if I have to pick one out of thousands), then a thick glass-breaking sound (something that, even as a little, I find both scary and cool), but ultimately fascinatingly matching to the drum. It’s like when Bruce Springsteen described the beginning sound of Like A Rolling Stone (Highway 61 Revisited) as “a snare shot that sounded like somebody’d kicked open the door to your mind” … I’d say that for my description that the first two seconds of Jam [(Dangerous)], is a direct shot that feels like somebody’d broke the maxi-glass window to your mind. Within the count of four, I’ve been invaded, and the thieves of sound, knowledge and emotion take my breath away. By the title track, they are honing my mind, and my words are also stolen when they disappear into thin air on the last bobbly effect.
Out of those genres and topics, that Dangerous is expanded with, it contains pretty much favorites from every single one; it includes harmoniously sonorous atmospheric rock in Give In To Me and a personal high-point for singer-songwriter high point in Gone Too Soon, which poignantly addresses the realism of death as it was written to a late 18-year old Ryan. The album dives into contemporary R&B and New Jack Swing with tracks like the lo-fi Why You Wanna Trip On Me , In The Closet that balances otherworldly grooves and classical, the crushingly thrilling Cannot Let Her Get Away, and the curvingly supernatural Who Is It. The title track is a fearless, seven-minute dance odyssey. Both that and also the four minute impeccability She Drives Me Wild [that was my second most played song of 2023 after Billie Jean, heard it at least a thousand times that year no sarcasm at all] borders on Industrial Rock, predating The Downward Spiral's drums of viciousness by three years.
Dangerous also features (imo) Michael's most fervent world-changing anthem Heal The World, alongside the catchy classic on racism Black Or White, and the non-preachy, spiritual Keep The Faith. Having listened to everything from Neutral Milk Hotel to Phil Elverum, the Doors to Stevie Wonder, and Bob Dylan, I confidently say that Will You Be There is the most emotional and real recording I’ve ever felt. Songs, albums and musicians I am usually feeling a lot, but this definingly transcendent tune mind blows me every spin, a step even further.
I mean what should I say, how could I say anything? This feels very unlike the rest of my favorite records. I want to praise it with all my heart but…It’s like talking to the girl I’m completely in love with, as opposed to my latest great and my dearest closest friends: I cannot find the (right) words. Simultaneously, It’s like a one-two-three-four(…)-fourteen punch of godlike grooves, thunderous emotion, supreme musical mastery, and a voice that makes angels sound kitsch. Its definitively beautiful way of rising it to a level where majestic is an understatement. No doubt, Michael is the greatest thing, the world has produced, in terms of vocals/voice, and musical persona(lities), past, present and for the future; he is the almost the musical equivalent to Jesus Christ. And this statement only becomes clearer and clearer, the more deservedly time, Dangerous gets play. Seriously, I can take half a year to more than year long vacation, from Michael’s discography, and as soon as I get back (home) to that, they surpasses literally every body of work, I’ve listen to/studied/yni, throughout the vacation…by ‘they’ surpasses, I mean his others records too [if I go listen to him, it's so hard to listen to anything else, knowing nothing will reach it]. Virtually, atmospherically and emotionally unsurpassable. [First added to this chart: 06/30/2019]
Year of Release:
1991
Appears in:
Rank Score:
2,147
Rank in 1991:
Rank in 1990s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Buy album
- #Sponsored
What makes an album transformational and essential, is the unique amount of layers and qualities to discover per person. Hence the internet has hundreds of reviews of OK Computer and Citizen Kane, praising it for nearly completely different reasons. Or at least saying different things about it, while the common denominator is the rating. That typea philosophy was in me when ITAOTS came into my life. I was about to get Cornrows for the first time. When me and my mom got there, the barber had time in like 30 minutes. We then saw a mini-record store a few meters from the barbershop. Full of vinyl for sale, under some stacks, I found the 2005 reissue in a little box, collectively with other stacks of CDs I don’t care for. I pretty much felt the same way about In The Aeroplane Over The Sea, as babyblueSedan (in the first two lines of his second paragraph). I didn’t want to buy it, ‘cause I wasn’t sure enough yet. But A month later, when they had to redo my cornrows, during the process, I asked my mom to go get it - I detailed exactly where it was, because I remembered... After 10 minutes, she came back with the CD and a smile on her face. She explained that the seller had complimented my taste, saying the record is a masterpiece, and loads of layers, and lovabilities. I opened it up [fun fact: it was difficult to take it outta the slipcase], and there was no text anywhere on the outside (later, I found out, the UPC is written as white on the side) - that was something new, inspiring kind of. I then asked my mom to read the long text, and she gave up after 4 lines. I popped it in the player when we got home. I didn’t quite get it, besides Oh Comely (which is still one of my favorites, NR now my favorite song ever written). It even took me longer, to love the Lo-Fi cuts like Holland 1945 or that untitled joint. But the more I listened to it, the more I loved it.
The biggest discussion around the album that makes it divided is Jeff Mangum's all-round utterly wonderful and beautiful voice. It is not just that he is singing with all his heart and soul, but it is also that the singing itself is so engaged, so enraptured, so possessed by and lost in the moment, that it (seemingly spontaneously, or at least, "impulsively" / "suddenly"), at several points across the album, throws him straight INTO the emotion and even time frame (child, boyhood, adulthood, past or present) of the lyrical content he is singing about. Very very few albums feature vocal performances that are so completely consumed and integrated with their emotional content. For specifics, listen to the title track: he sounds both happy and sad simultaneously. His voice is in the register of an adult becoming a child again. But it is also a happiness that is childlike and naive, so it expresses a silly exuberance and naivete in the face of a tragedy that is hard to confront. Obviously, as in the whole album, the instrumentation takes on these qualities and characteristics too, here becoming increasingly dark and conflicted as the song progresses. Take Two-Headed Boy, and witness how his vocal performance alternates, by the changing momentum of phrase, between the register of a nostalgic, heartbroken adult to that of a screaming or yelling younger boy in a sudden emotional outburst. But, crucially, as in so much of the album, it is both happy AND sad simultaneously, transfixed in and confused by both the joy and happiness and nostalgia of childhood and by heavy realities of adult trauma -- with the silly, unabashed exuberance of a naive child, before returning to the adult register as it ends and the prospect of death becomes complete. Even The Fool, the instrumental it segues into, is both a "happy" dance waltz, while also ambiguously, a funeral march for the dead. Oh Comely is of course the zenith of this oscillation, this alternating emotion/theme as it progresses in stages or movements through different time periods freely and his voice is enlivened and dies over and over within them, between childhood and adulthood, grief and stupefied happiness. The whole work is struck by this incredible exuberance, vitality of feeling and being alive, while often simultaneously (or in other cases, just following, alternating, one with the other without warning ... suddenly, tragically, thrust upon...), an overwhelming tragedy and sadness and heartbreak. This sense of each toll of emotion being "thrust upon" him, unavoidable, outside of his emotional control, is incredibly powerful and permeates the whole work, lending the sheer audacity and "haphazardness" of the vocal performance a whole new sense of depth and purpose and meaning beyond its already considerable energy and power, not to mention the frequent "doubling"/ambiguity of the emotional meaning of its phrases giving it additional and tremendous psychological, emotional power and depth.
Aeroplane is very much like that friend you can tell everything to; you can; cry, laugh, cruise, write, hit, sit still, sleep, die, walk, run, eat, drink, vomit, take dumps, shower, get hype etc. to this record and it WON'T FALL/FEEL OUT OF PLACE. It's potentially the only album I could call both perfect and imperfect. Well, I have too many reasons why I love it. All in all, this is an album that’s built to last. Imma wrap up my little description by state a quote from the slipcase of the CD cover, that I fully agree with:
‘In The Aeroplane Over The Sea is one of the most completely inspiring rock records I’ve ever heard… every time I finish listening to it I feel like I’ve lived through something I’ll never quite understand, something really big — Richard Reed Parry, Arcade Fire'
btw how do most of my top spots contain lo-fi / indie-folk / singer-songwriter releases? Well, I have officially found my favorite genre :) [First added to this chart: 08/31/2018]
The biggest discussion around the album that makes it divided is Jeff Mangum's all-round utterly wonderful and beautiful voice. It is not just that he is singing with all his heart and soul, but it is also that the singing itself is so engaged, so enraptured, so possessed by and lost in the moment, that it (seemingly spontaneously, or at least, "impulsively" / "suddenly"), at several points across the album, throws him straight INTO the emotion and even time frame (child, boyhood, adulthood, past or present) of the lyrical content he is singing about. Very very few albums feature vocal performances that are so completely consumed and integrated with their emotional content. For specifics, listen to the title track: he sounds both happy and sad simultaneously. His voice is in the register of an adult becoming a child again. But it is also a happiness that is childlike and naive, so it expresses a silly exuberance and naivete in the face of a tragedy that is hard to confront. Obviously, as in the whole album, the instrumentation takes on these qualities and characteristics too, here becoming increasingly dark and conflicted as the song progresses. Take Two-Headed Boy, and witness how his vocal performance alternates, by the changing momentum of phrase, between the register of a nostalgic, heartbroken adult to that of a screaming or yelling younger boy in a sudden emotional outburst. But, crucially, as in so much of the album, it is both happy AND sad simultaneously, transfixed in and confused by both the joy and happiness and nostalgia of childhood and by heavy realities of adult trauma -- with the silly, unabashed exuberance of a naive child, before returning to the adult register as it ends and the prospect of death becomes complete. Even The Fool, the instrumental it segues into, is both a "happy" dance waltz, while also ambiguously, a funeral march for the dead. Oh Comely is of course the zenith of this oscillation, this alternating emotion/theme as it progresses in stages or movements through different time periods freely and his voice is enlivened and dies over and over within them, between childhood and adulthood, grief and stupefied happiness. The whole work is struck by this incredible exuberance, vitality of feeling and being alive, while often simultaneously (or in other cases, just following, alternating, one with the other without warning ... suddenly, tragically, thrust upon...), an overwhelming tragedy and sadness and heartbreak. This sense of each toll of emotion being "thrust upon" him, unavoidable, outside of his emotional control, is incredibly powerful and permeates the whole work, lending the sheer audacity and "haphazardness" of the vocal performance a whole new sense of depth and purpose and meaning beyond its already considerable energy and power, not to mention the frequent "doubling"/ambiguity of the emotional meaning of its phrases giving it additional and tremendous psychological, emotional power and depth.
Aeroplane is very much like that friend you can tell everything to; you can; cry, laugh, cruise, write, hit, sit still, sleep, die, walk, run, eat, drink, vomit, take dumps, shower, get hype etc. to this record and it WON'T FALL/FEEL OUT OF PLACE. It's potentially the only album I could call both perfect and imperfect. Well, I have too many reasons why I love it. All in all, this is an album that’s built to last. Imma wrap up my little description by state a quote from the slipcase of the CD cover, that I fully agree with:
‘In The Aeroplane Over The Sea is one of the most completely inspiring rock records I’ve ever heard… every time I finish listening to it I feel like I’ve lived through something I’ll never quite understand, something really big — Richard Reed Parry, Arcade Fire'
btw how do most of my top spots contain lo-fi / indie-folk / singer-songwriter releases? Well, I have officially found my favorite genre :) [First added to this chart: 08/31/2018]
Year of Release:
1998
Appears in:
Rank Score:
32,859
Rank in 1998:
Rank in 1990s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Buy album
- #Sponsored
CA: approved (1. an elephant would never be in a pine forest, 2. this style of drawing dearly captures the loser-core of the record)
unfinished.)The quintessential lo-fi album. The most visceral album I've arguably ever heard. The first and the undoubtedly most deliberately delicate album-choice to get in my headphones, whenever I wanna take a long walk in a forest. Whenever I hear the album, I can feel Christ is on my side. It’s a reminder of how human I am, how emotional a being like me can be - or is, - how coldness is periodically a great thing, adding in how to be down-to-earth too. While a lot of essential albums are tending to be out-of-this-world and super abrasive, The Glow Pt.2 does the opposite of letting the listener know. While a lot of albums tend to strive for perfection, The Glow Pt.2 naturally achieves imperfection. While a lot of albums tend to use trends of the time, The Glow Pt.2 stays the same throughout every period, someone's listening. While a lot of artists' entire discographies are about not taking any breaks, musically, The Glow Pt.2 has spaces to breathe.
The word 'classic' would be perfectly justified and so would 'average' or an 'awful'. This project is just colossal in its polarizing figures while simultaneously is good at hiding it. You cannot really have a 100% correct opinion on this because its just so left-field, I don't believe there's a varied new-school tape like this out there. I think that this album is probably up there with the other greatest of its generations, even of all time, perhaps superior just because of how free and abrasive and open it is, and I have no doubt this will be a classic fuh me.
Imperfection for life!
Also, for the people who think I am a straight Fantano hater or something, here is a (imho) great review of my favorite album. It's so great indeed, that he took a lot of words outta my mouth with this one:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hfHWgzkRtUs&t= [First added to this chart: 08/31/2018]
unfinished.)The quintessential lo-fi album. The most visceral album I've arguably ever heard. The first and the undoubtedly most deliberately delicate album-choice to get in my headphones, whenever I wanna take a long walk in a forest. Whenever I hear the album, I can feel Christ is on my side. It’s a reminder of how human I am, how emotional a being like me can be - or is, - how coldness is periodically a great thing, adding in how to be down-to-earth too. While a lot of essential albums are tending to be out-of-this-world and super abrasive, The Glow Pt.2 does the opposite of letting the listener know. While a lot of albums tend to strive for perfection, The Glow Pt.2 naturally achieves imperfection. While a lot of albums tend to use trends of the time, The Glow Pt.2 stays the same throughout every period, someone's listening. While a lot of artists' entire discographies are about not taking any breaks, musically, The Glow Pt.2 has spaces to breathe.
The word 'classic' would be perfectly justified and so would 'average' or an 'awful'. This project is just colossal in its polarizing figures while simultaneously is good at hiding it. You cannot really have a 100% correct opinion on this because its just so left-field, I don't believe there's a varied new-school tape like this out there. I think that this album is probably up there with the other greatest of its generations, even of all time, perhaps superior just because of how free and abrasive and open it is, and I have no doubt this will be a classic fuh me.
Imperfection for life!
Also, for the people who think I am a straight Fantano hater or something, here is a (imho) great review of my favorite album. It's so great indeed, that he took a lot of words outta my mouth with this one:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hfHWgzkRtUs&t= [First added to this chart: 08/31/2018]
Year of Release:
2001
Appears in:
Rank Score:
7,677
Rank in 2001:
Rank in 2000s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Buy album
- #Sponsored
I hate you Townes Van Zandt. Like, I met you around 2019, and you didn't really jump out on me with creativity, you were laid back and gave room for all the other records I dug at the time. However, when I discovered SellMeAGod and saw his soft spot for you (counting in Repo as well), I should've seen that as a red flag. Because then, I gave you a listen with much more psychological attention. What a great mistake, as of how much you took away the time I could've jammed many other albums including my conventional favorites, because you just got me addicted to your ten songs. But that's not even the worst part. You made not only most of the normal music that caught my ear, but even the majority of my core favorite, sound pale, dry, uninteresting. How dare you, self-titled? How could you? You just had to reinvent a way of unfilteredness, mixed with soul-crushing lyrical elegance and direct honest delivery, that makes most of my listened music look too polished, and focused. Have a bit of mercy.
But at the same time, I love you Townes Van Zandt. Very dearly indeed. Even if you are too internally beaten to care, you saved me from stagnation. Sharing waters like Jesus in a desert, the sonic and psychic captivation you gave me was unique and profound in comparison with so many pasts of memories supreme. You filled unknown desires, when I least knew I needed them, you even redefined my love for musical listening freedom. My poignant melancholic soul let her guard down, cause you understood and taught more than most could achieve. On top of that, you are an independent phantom: you wrote and played everything on here, and it's highly personal, one of the best displays of using music as a creative way of expressing and conveying your inner dark emotions, ever written.
To anyone who dislikes country for the tiresome stereotypes and modern garbage it's buried under, show 'em this album and it'll pull the rug underneath the stiffest of legs. One could argue that it's basically folk-singer songwriter stuff with a country accent, but Townes surely composes traditional country structures, reserves those melodic refrains to maximum impact, purpose, and emotion, as well as keeps it to the core of the genre: three chords and the truth. Every song features a few instruments more than the honest singer and superbly charismatic guitar, and they add more color, atmosphere, and memorability than what it intends, as well as what the listener notices, myself included.
Somebody once said to me many summers ago that a classic, whether a song, film, painting etc, should appeal to any age. And even though I really disagree with that, if that was the case, this album would still be by definition a classic. A newborn, a toddler, my teenage self, a mid-life person, and an elderly person would have it easy to fall in love with the blood-shedded songs here.
His self-titled opens with For The Sake of The Song, which contains a super duper hypnotic guitar progression (almost as if it's sampled from a Spanish classical piece) and Townes singing about his dilemma of breaking up but simultaneously being empathetic towards his girlfriend's emotional distress. Honestly, it's up there with wanna thee most mature country songs. What's phenomenal is that I don't know who he is singing about, yet I absolutely do. Because after all, we all sing, for the sake of the song, living for the sake of life - and there it lies: he does it himself. However, this collection of emotionally and potently unmatched masterpieces is the closest we get to somebody singing for more than just the songs themselves.
Waiting Around To Die is a prime example of how I feel life is a waiting line for death, some cheat by suicide. Considered wanna the darkest pieces of truths that Zandt spills, it's a crippling story that is as tragic by the verse as it's wavy. And it continues effortlessly on Don't Take It Too Bad, culminating in the intervention of "A man needs a woman, to stand by his side, and whisper sweet words / In his ears about daydreams, and roses and playthings, and the sweetness of springtime, and the sound of the rain".
I used to think Fare Thee Well Ms Carousel was overrated, but now I see that this is actually an exceptional stroke of real genius. A song dealing with toxic relationships, and witness that in the verses he tries to break free but every time the chorus comes along, he's giving in to giving it another chance. Perhaps the ultimate precise depiction of how emotionally attached we are to a lot of things that realistically don't want the best of us, an evil cycle. I wouldn't call this song Stockholm Syndrome because Townes is very aware of the situation and is making an effort to exit. On top of that, the simplicity in all of the instruments and even the melody is extraordinary as much relative to the concept as in itself, in every way.
The self-awareness plants another tree in the one true buoyant and true blue acoustic track here, I'll Be Here In The Morning. Because when people use the point of music being like a friend or there for you, this song literally states it to the listener, like a parent singing and protecting their child. The least minimalistic short song is the bluesy Lungs, which rhythmically, instrumentally and impressionistically thrives on like speedway wheels on a thick gravel road.
There is the God-gift penultimate Quicksilver Daydreams of Maria, a musical apotheosis. The metaphysically aquatic melody unfolds inventive colorful landscapes, TVZ's naked crooning wind gravitates to new grounds of authentic bliss, every single strophe contenders for a favorite poetic piece in music, and the supreme tenderness lying in the combining sensory makes awe-inspiring seem pale. A few of the songs here, including this, are renewed acoustic versions of earlier ones already released, but they never dared to have a newfound pristineness that they embody here. Especially with this, comparing it with the 1968 version is like a light flower in a small line of grass, to a bed of staggering ever-blooming flowers in the silkiest garden in Heaven.
If we take Quicksilver Daydreams of Maria as the artistic closer to the record, Townes musically answers the question of what happens when you are done expressing yourself inside out, what are you left with? His answer is the closer: None But The Rain, a song with true magic in its simple nature. Cause making great art about the bad stuff isn't gonna spare the pain, so when you are done, the depressive nature still carries on. And as rain is the go-to symbol for sadness, Townes writes arguably the best song about it, alongside Bob Dylan's Buckets of Rain that closes Blood On The Tracks out.
In a kitsch-driven world where most beloved stuff falls apart too easily, and where sincerity loses meaning throughout time, albums like the self-titled Townes Van Zandt seem too good to be true. But it's also direct evidence to how immersion into utter beauty, melancholy, and melodic poetry is peaking. And in an age where too much mediocre music is being released, since it is virtually free to drop whatever you record and compose, it is indescribable how life-affirming it is to have this album to remind me what truly special music actually embodies and what it actually feels to capture the heart, the spirit, and soul.
But at the same time, I love you Townes Van Zandt. Very dearly indeed. Even if you are too internally beaten to care, you saved me from stagnation. Sharing waters like Jesus in a desert, the sonic and psychic captivation you gave me was unique and profound in comparison with so many pasts of memories supreme. You filled unknown desires, when I least knew I needed them, you even redefined my love for musical listening freedom. My poignant melancholic soul let her guard down, cause you understood and taught more than most could achieve. On top of that, you are an independent phantom: you wrote and played everything on here, and it's highly personal, one of the best displays of using music as a creative way of expressing and conveying your inner dark emotions, ever written.
To anyone who dislikes country for the tiresome stereotypes and modern garbage it's buried under, show 'em this album and it'll pull the rug underneath the stiffest of legs. One could argue that it's basically folk-singer songwriter stuff with a country accent, but Townes surely composes traditional country structures, reserves those melodic refrains to maximum impact, purpose, and emotion, as well as keeps it to the core of the genre: three chords and the truth. Every song features a few instruments more than the honest singer and superbly charismatic guitar, and they add more color, atmosphere, and memorability than what it intends, as well as what the listener notices, myself included.
Somebody once said to me many summers ago that a classic, whether a song, film, painting etc, should appeal to any age. And even though I really disagree with that, if that was the case, this album would still be by definition a classic. A newborn, a toddler, my teenage self, a mid-life person, and an elderly person would have it easy to fall in love with the blood-shedded songs here.
His self-titled opens with For The Sake of The Song, which contains a super duper hypnotic guitar progression (almost as if it's sampled from a Spanish classical piece) and Townes singing about his dilemma of breaking up but simultaneously being empathetic towards his girlfriend's emotional distress. Honestly, it's up there with wanna thee most mature country songs. What's phenomenal is that I don't know who he is singing about, yet I absolutely do. Because after all, we all sing, for the sake of the song, living for the sake of life - and there it lies: he does it himself. However, this collection of emotionally and potently unmatched masterpieces is the closest we get to somebody singing for more than just the songs themselves.
Waiting Around To Die is a prime example of how I feel life is a waiting line for death, some cheat by suicide. Considered wanna the darkest pieces of truths that Zandt spills, it's a crippling story that is as tragic by the verse as it's wavy. And it continues effortlessly on Don't Take It Too Bad, culminating in the intervention of "A man needs a woman, to stand by his side, and whisper sweet words / In his ears about daydreams, and roses and playthings, and the sweetness of springtime, and the sound of the rain".
I used to think Fare Thee Well Ms Carousel was overrated, but now I see that this is actually an exceptional stroke of real genius. A song dealing with toxic relationships, and witness that in the verses he tries to break free but every time the chorus comes along, he's giving in to giving it another chance. Perhaps the ultimate precise depiction of how emotionally attached we are to a lot of things that realistically don't want the best of us, an evil cycle. I wouldn't call this song Stockholm Syndrome because Townes is very aware of the situation and is making an effort to exit. On top of that, the simplicity in all of the instruments and even the melody is extraordinary as much relative to the concept as in itself, in every way.
The self-awareness plants another tree in the one true buoyant and true blue acoustic track here, I'll Be Here In The Morning. Because when people use the point of music being like a friend or there for you, this song literally states it to the listener, like a parent singing and protecting their child. The least minimalistic short song is the bluesy Lungs, which rhythmically, instrumentally and impressionistically thrives on like speedway wheels on a thick gravel road.
There is the God-gift penultimate Quicksilver Daydreams of Maria, a musical apotheosis. The metaphysically aquatic melody unfolds inventive colorful landscapes, TVZ's naked crooning wind gravitates to new grounds of authentic bliss, every single strophe contenders for a favorite poetic piece in music, and the supreme tenderness lying in the combining sensory makes awe-inspiring seem pale. A few of the songs here, including this, are renewed acoustic versions of earlier ones already released, but they never dared to have a newfound pristineness that they embody here. Especially with this, comparing it with the 1968 version is like a light flower in a small line of grass, to a bed of staggering ever-blooming flowers in the silkiest garden in Heaven.
If we take Quicksilver Daydreams of Maria as the artistic closer to the record, Townes musically answers the question of what happens when you are done expressing yourself inside out, what are you left with? His answer is the closer: None But The Rain, a song with true magic in its simple nature. Cause making great art about the bad stuff isn't gonna spare the pain, so when you are done, the depressive nature still carries on. And as rain is the go-to symbol for sadness, Townes writes arguably the best song about it, alongside Bob Dylan's Buckets of Rain that closes Blood On The Tracks out.
In a kitsch-driven world where most beloved stuff falls apart too easily, and where sincerity loses meaning throughout time, albums like the self-titled Townes Van Zandt seem too good to be true. But it's also direct evidence to how immersion into utter beauty, melancholy, and melodic poetry is peaking. And in an age where too much mediocre music is being released, since it is virtually free to drop whatever you record and compose, it is indescribable how life-affirming it is to have this album to remind me what truly special music actually embodies and what it actually feels to capture the heart, the spirit, and soul.
Year of Release:
1969
Appears in:
Rank Score:
2,373
Rank in 1969:
Rank in 1960s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Buy album
- #Sponsored
There is perhaps no other musician I have more respect for than Bob Dylan. All the people who claim to like alternative music yet dislike or even disrespect him actually don't know anything about music and are not them when they're hungry, they're hungry cause they sink/avoid or bite the hand that feeds them. We'll go into how it all changed when Zimmerman released not only some of his first protest folk stuff like the classic Times They Are A-Changin', not only when he opened the door to the most creatively explosive music genre ever, psychedelia, with Mr. Tambourine Man (whereas the Byrds birthed Jangle Pop with their cover of it), but when he reinvented the album format as of what most of us know it today. Starting with his highly regarded Highway 61 Revisited, and then exceeding it with Blonde On Blonde - the first double album and the first no-artists-or-album-name-on-cover album.
Blonde On Blonde is, objectively speaking (influence/innovation, popularity, longevity), the greatest album in history (only comparables are Thriller, Abbey Road, banana, and maybe Dark Side). I will try to break it out, while simultaneously commenting on its impact on me (with stuff credited to the italian man). First and foremost is the popularity: the masterpiece has held its reputation as an all-timer, pretty much since people heard it for the first time in 1966. Throughout the last two decades, more has come out saying this is his best rather than Highway. Every man and woman in the industry and the music community were in awe of Dylan.
Secondly, we have influence slash innovation:
Even though non-classical music came on 12-inch vinyl about eleven years earlier, the Dylan man was the first to give it purpose and reason. By making lengthy pieces, the closer fills up the last side out of four, and they continuously rebirth themselves. Already ahead of most rockers and by writing fragments of music's foundation on Bringing It All Back Home and Highway 61 Revisited, he took a prodigious step forward by officially making the first masterpiece in popular music. This album turned music into a form of mass communication and a form of personality and expression. Pre-BOB, pop, and rock were commercial enterprises, but then it became art. With Blonde On Blonde begins the process of quality control that would transform every record into a work of art. With Blonde On Blonde rock rivals jazz among the great musical conquests of the twentieth century. This album neatly separates amateurish dilettantism from knowledgeable and conscious art, as the Middle Ages separate from the Renaissance. Dylan never cared for critical response, actually only when they were too nice (that's why he later released Self Portrait). The ironic part about then releasing a double album is that every song is better than any song on any previous commercial album released, called it! On one side it completes the assimilation of British rock by folk music, on the other it personalizes the blues and folk, redressing both with marvelous esthetics saturated by creative arrangements of psychedelic derivation. Blonde on Blonde is a pioneering example of Dylan's ability to blend various musical styles. The album merges rock, blues, folk, and country in a way that was unprecedented at the time. This genre-blending set the stage for future rock artists to experiment beyond the boundaries of a single genre. Some could even say that I Want You is proto-twee pop. Generally, it uses traditional instruments but in unconventional way of composition, another way to say this helped birth alternative (even if The Byrds did that a year prior as a sound). We even get garage blues rock on Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat. In that case, can you hear how "session"-esque these songs sound? Because, yep, the recording process of the album is marked by improvisation and spontaneity. Inversely there, Dylan hones the circles of events in life on Stuck Inside A Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again, which is also a series of political observations once you view the characters more deeply. The long ramblings of surreal irony are sweetened by raving reflections apace with the blues of desolation serenely in that piece's parade of senators, Shakespeare, and common people, another structurally repetitive "dream" that cycles and recycles itself. Wonderfully dark gem. Fourth Time Around uses subtlety in the guitar riff as a tremendous backbone for the rhythm and topic, creating art that is inexpressable, and exceptional like my heart getting a hundred kisses. And that's not even touching the mere poetry, lyrical confection, and enigmatic imagery in the words, then conveyed by Dylan's ever-ambiguous voice.
Deeper in the magnificent labyrinth of Bob Dylan are two long and visionary masterpieces, Visions of Johanna, with its majestic stately walk, and Sad Eyed Lady of The Lowlands, a long, solemn, moving hymn to beauty as a humane conception. It is last mentioned, an astounding lullaby for lovers, that breaks free from the abysmal constraints of the mind, that visits luminous mirages in supernatural valleys, that wind along tinkling eddies to form impalpable puffs of eternity. These are love songs; the free, wild, and unrestrained love of the other songs on Blonde On Blonde contrasts with the abstract love of these two allegorical poems, modern Dantesque visions that affirm a supernatural entity through the arcane vision of the female being. These masterpieces alone birthed the epics of indie rock and folk for the foreseeable future. His artistic itinerary has produced two fundamental innovations: the blues of desolation and the visionary ballad. A myriad of musical elements, the discomfort of existentialism, the mythological personality, and the literary citations are all fused in a unique building of musical legend.
Thirdly, we got longevity:
The colorful, emphatic, engaging sonic jubilations of I Want You, Absolutely Sweet Marie, Just Like A Woman, One of Us Must Know, are not just masterpieces, but standards of the more "courteous" songwriting, cadenced melodies bristling with troubled emotions, portraits of psychological symbolic female characters that produce a sumptuous wave of emotions as soon as the words of the poet caress them. Richly colored by organ, harmonica, and guitar and gently pushed by brilliant rhythms, the phrasing flies in engaging suggestions. The longer joints twist along the spiral of a rich and articulate sound. The eternal banger Rainy Day Women remains the greatest party starter simply for its rich musicianship alongside Dylan's genius display of criticism in society (also ambiguous cause it could be about marijuana, which in that case, it came at the gateway of the psychedelic era), and Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat remains the most humorous blues song ever, simply because it started this form of comedy in a rock song, and the vocal performance is eccentric like all Dylan. At a party, we started dancing to Obviously 5 Believers, proving this song, rhythmically and danceable, still goes hard. The lyrics, they go hard too, nothing new for Bob of course but yanno.
Blonde on Blonde covers a wide emotional spectrum, from the whimsical and humorous to the deeply melancholic and introspective. All corners it covers, it does more wholesomely to me than any album released afterward managed to exude. On top of all this, Blonde On Blonde is MY New Years-album. I play it every 31st of December, as the supreme eventfulness of this record is equal to the different feelings and memories of the year passing by my mind one last time before the next year comes in, it's like revelation saved in time. (name some songs as examples).
Almost sixty years have passed and this is still the best-written album in my opinion. It still sounds ambitious and exciting today, more so than almost any album I choose to hear otherwise. So there ya have it, the greatest album ever as well as up there in my top-tier favorites.
Blonde On Blonde is, objectively speaking (influence/innovation, popularity, longevity), the greatest album in history (only comparables are Thriller, Abbey Road, banana, and maybe Dark Side). I will try to break it out, while simultaneously commenting on its impact on me (with stuff credited to the italian man). First and foremost is the popularity: the masterpiece has held its reputation as an all-timer, pretty much since people heard it for the first time in 1966. Throughout the last two decades, more has come out saying this is his best rather than Highway. Every man and woman in the industry and the music community were in awe of Dylan.
Secondly, we have influence slash innovation:
Even though non-classical music came on 12-inch vinyl about eleven years earlier, the Dylan man was the first to give it purpose and reason. By making lengthy pieces, the closer fills up the last side out of four, and they continuously rebirth themselves. Already ahead of most rockers and by writing fragments of music's foundation on Bringing It All Back Home and Highway 61 Revisited, he took a prodigious step forward by officially making the first masterpiece in popular music. This album turned music into a form of mass communication and a form of personality and expression. Pre-BOB, pop, and rock were commercial enterprises, but then it became art. With Blonde On Blonde begins the process of quality control that would transform every record into a work of art. With Blonde On Blonde rock rivals jazz among the great musical conquests of the twentieth century. This album neatly separates amateurish dilettantism from knowledgeable and conscious art, as the Middle Ages separate from the Renaissance. Dylan never cared for critical response, actually only when they were too nice (that's why he later released Self Portrait). The ironic part about then releasing a double album is that every song is better than any song on any previous commercial album released, called it! On one side it completes the assimilation of British rock by folk music, on the other it personalizes the blues and folk, redressing both with marvelous esthetics saturated by creative arrangements of psychedelic derivation. Blonde on Blonde is a pioneering example of Dylan's ability to blend various musical styles. The album merges rock, blues, folk, and country in a way that was unprecedented at the time. This genre-blending set the stage for future rock artists to experiment beyond the boundaries of a single genre. Some could even say that I Want You is proto-twee pop. Generally, it uses traditional instruments but in unconventional way of composition, another way to say this helped birth alternative (even if The Byrds did that a year prior as a sound). We even get garage blues rock on Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat. In that case, can you hear how "session"-esque these songs sound? Because, yep, the recording process of the album is marked by improvisation and spontaneity. Inversely there, Dylan hones the circles of events in life on Stuck Inside A Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again, which is also a series of political observations once you view the characters more deeply. The long ramblings of surreal irony are sweetened by raving reflections apace with the blues of desolation serenely in that piece's parade of senators, Shakespeare, and common people, another structurally repetitive "dream" that cycles and recycles itself. Wonderfully dark gem. Fourth Time Around uses subtlety in the guitar riff as a tremendous backbone for the rhythm and topic, creating art that is inexpressable, and exceptional like my heart getting a hundred kisses. And that's not even touching the mere poetry, lyrical confection, and enigmatic imagery in the words, then conveyed by Dylan's ever-ambiguous voice.
Deeper in the magnificent labyrinth of Bob Dylan are two long and visionary masterpieces, Visions of Johanna, with its majestic stately walk, and Sad Eyed Lady of The Lowlands, a long, solemn, moving hymn to beauty as a humane conception. It is last mentioned, an astounding lullaby for lovers, that breaks free from the abysmal constraints of the mind, that visits luminous mirages in supernatural valleys, that wind along tinkling eddies to form impalpable puffs of eternity. These are love songs; the free, wild, and unrestrained love of the other songs on Blonde On Blonde contrasts with the abstract love of these two allegorical poems, modern Dantesque visions that affirm a supernatural entity through the arcane vision of the female being. These masterpieces alone birthed the epics of indie rock and folk for the foreseeable future. His artistic itinerary has produced two fundamental innovations: the blues of desolation and the visionary ballad. A myriad of musical elements, the discomfort of existentialism, the mythological personality, and the literary citations are all fused in a unique building of musical legend.
Thirdly, we got longevity:
The colorful, emphatic, engaging sonic jubilations of I Want You, Absolutely Sweet Marie, Just Like A Woman, One of Us Must Know, are not just masterpieces, but standards of the more "courteous" songwriting, cadenced melodies bristling with troubled emotions, portraits of psychological symbolic female characters that produce a sumptuous wave of emotions as soon as the words of the poet caress them. Richly colored by organ, harmonica, and guitar and gently pushed by brilliant rhythms, the phrasing flies in engaging suggestions. The longer joints twist along the spiral of a rich and articulate sound. The eternal banger Rainy Day Women remains the greatest party starter simply for its rich musicianship alongside Dylan's genius display of criticism in society (also ambiguous cause it could be about marijuana, which in that case, it came at the gateway of the psychedelic era), and Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat remains the most humorous blues song ever, simply because it started this form of comedy in a rock song, and the vocal performance is eccentric like all Dylan. At a party, we started dancing to Obviously 5 Believers, proving this song, rhythmically and danceable, still goes hard. The lyrics, they go hard too, nothing new for Bob of course but yanno.
Blonde on Blonde covers a wide emotional spectrum, from the whimsical and humorous to the deeply melancholic and introspective. All corners it covers, it does more wholesomely to me than any album released afterward managed to exude. On top of all this, Blonde On Blonde is MY New Years-album. I play it every 31st of December, as the supreme eventfulness of this record is equal to the different feelings and memories of the year passing by my mind one last time before the next year comes in, it's like revelation saved in time. (name some songs as examples).
Almost sixty years have passed and this is still the best-written album in my opinion. It still sounds ambitious and exciting today, more so than almost any album I choose to hear otherwise. So there ya have it, the greatest album ever as well as up there in my top-tier favorites.
Year of Release:
1966
Appears in:
Rank Score:
24,978
Rank in 1966:
Rank in 1960s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Buy album
- #Sponsored
I have incorporated Mercury’s review in this comment too, purposely, since he shares the same feelings. We both love this album, and it loves us.
It’s a bit absurd the way it flew through a tender feather upon my life. When I was chatting with user zwiebel, I already knew the John Phillips from Mamas And Papas. When I typed zwiebel’s name in the search bar, for a brief moment, it said “John Phillips (ZW)(artist)”. It kept coming up every time I was in contact with zwiebel, and sometime my curiosity rightfully got the best of me, and I clicked. ZW means Zimbabwe, the neighboring country for my fatherland. He had one added album, also simply called John, and the artwork was children’s drawing. I was way into my 60s psychedelic phase at that time, and Mercury’s comment of comparing it to Nick D, Elliott Smith, DIY-ness, home-recording was more than enough 4 me 2 instantly press play. (And…this is perhaps one of the few times where an album with so many expectations managed to get above them. Surely, I was blowing up its quality-status in my head, it cannot be really THAT good. Thats what I was thinking I'd conclude on subsequent spins. Well, it hasn’t happened. Listening again now, it shimmers and fills my heart with life and my mind with big ideas even now on my 27th or so listen.)
So yeah, a little bit absurd, but not as absurd as the story itself about John Phillips ZW. He’s a mysterious figure (I don’t even know what he looked like), who never made another record, and most of the already very-low numbered copies of this one also got seized and destroyed by security police during apartheid, out of fear it’ll cause riots. Which left less than 25 copies left in the world. However, if you only listen to the music, it’s anything but anarchistic, it sometimes tricks me into thinking it’s a paradox. Then he had a recording session in 1976 with nothing ever being released, and then died poor and ignored about 20 globe-spins later.
What could I say? This doesn’t even feel real. Just like the sheer brilliance of this album, John.
I mean, this album so stunning, mesmerizing, completely overwhelming for me, that how can it exist. This is too good to be true. The fact that it is so unknown adds to that feeling: it’s just something made up in my head. Well, maybe not, because even the brightest, most charismatic, enigmatic, creative part of my imagination still couldn’t make up an album this infectiously beautiful and wholeheartedly incredible as John. Even if this was the only remotely good album I ever found in searching for hidden gems, it’s still very enough reason to keep on going.
Just like you should take the popularity’s taste in music with a grain of salt, so should you with their music awareness. Else, complete beautiful albums like this would get recognition. And, just like the perfect day out with your best group of friends or significant other; after the day is over, it feels wrong to analyze what made it special, just want it to go on and the feeling is everything. It’s the same with precious John, I don’t really want to over analyze what makes Zimbabwean John Phillips so utterly beautiful and special to me, I just want to listen and nothing else. But I will give it a try anyway, cause I love it despite myself.
Musically, this album is a delicate 35 minute experience. The lyrics are densitive, stunning, at times funny and at times incredibly incisive. The guitar work is first rate. Phillips sounds like he was classically trained at times, the picking is sharp and beautiful. And the compositions and songs are all, and I mean all, fabulous and all-around formidable of highest caliber. It’s imaginative and puts you in awe, like a kid making a rollercoaster out of their soft ice. Doubtlessly, John is raised in the innocence and massive attractiveness of Donovan. However, John sparks that rarity of melodic higher power, beside a rarity of gratifying “breathy” whispery, definitively sweet baritone, with density that Donovan never could even reach. These melodies, from the first time I spun them, have build a living castle in the most gracious sub-level of my conscious. And I haven’t met many if any other place more gorgeous than that, every revisit by spinning John confirms that. Plus, I don’t know if John notices how much atmosphere he gives by even the slightest of reverb. Some of the tracks, having the vinyl crack over them, feels like metaphysical brooks with stones running over the infinite beauty coming through the soundwaves of the guitar and John's comforting breezy voice. The Rock is an interlude of American Primitivism at its most melodically intriguing, beside the cuteness.
He sings of such psychedelic imagery that could be found in Salvador Dali paintings or your favorite records from this era. His songs ranged from lovely and picturesque details of a far away land, to dark and cynical songs of unrest, tension, and nuclear fallout. I wish I wrote Ballad of A Tall Man, not only lyrically but that finger-picking conveying the morning-sunrise so phenomenally. Scaramouche has a super duper flavorful trumpet that beside its sailing melody, is the most psychedelic filled cut.
I am sitting on top of the tallest building in Heaven’s capital, singing and playing Peppermint Wind, what a speechlessly lovely song. And if I ever get kids, Imma sing these songs as lullabies and comforting tunes. Just close your eyes and (listen to) Whisper To The Wind. The already ever-glowing childlike urgency gets a heartwarming boost on the nursery rhyme of nature Willow Brook, with a bike bell that is the epitome of brightness, both aesthetically and sonically. The most atmospheric, even spacey folk song ever recorded, Mulberry Avenue, just by the light voice and ever-flowing fingerpicking, could shine in even some of the darkest voids in the psychological realm. Each tune could go on forever.
My favorite fantasy love song has to be Sylvia. Matter of fact, the song is a fantasy in itself, simply the way he sings her name makes me fall in love with her. Every fantasy land also has a peaceful or fascinating river and Pre Ante Pen Ultimatum is the one in John-land. The Bird With Plastic Feathers has to be the most cinematic, and scenarially thematic song. It’s also the cut with most instruments, with both sprinkling triangle and extremely colorful flute (oh my gosh a FLUTE!)
Paint Box Jester is the most ambiguous, and poetically simplistic nursery rhyme on the record, perhaps of all time. I still don’t know what the story portrays. And even if I did someday, it would even add to the bouncy melody. John is a full-on child, when he also says “hippity hop, great green grill stop!” and the song abruptly stops. When I do pay lazer-glazing attention to the lyrics, it gets heart-shivering. Primarily on Permutation Child, a tale of a girl who lost her hands in the bombing. In case I forget, John’s not only an album of strawberry honey chocolate sweet songs, by closer listening, it has some real shattering things to say, and it does it quite perfectly.
Look At The Time Fly sums up the philosophy of the album. Both the playfulness, as instead of time flies it is a time fly, but also the seriousness as in “Looks like you have too much medicine […] Time heals all if you know what I mean”, like what manufactured stuff may have what you need physically and momentarily, time gives you what is necessary for your spirituality.
I remain desperate trying to describe them, when in reality it should be very easy to, if you’ve pleasured yourself by hearing the album. However, I also hope you the reader do realize how much I love this album beyond words. It’s simultaneously how after astrotraveling or intense dreaming, you try to explain its unfolding beauty and meaning. Which makes sense, given that I still think John is too good to be true… that it is not existing in this world. It’s a myth from another dimension only a handful of people have been blessed enough to experience, me and Mercury being two.
It’s a bit absurd the way it flew through a tender feather upon my life. When I was chatting with user zwiebel, I already knew the John Phillips from Mamas And Papas. When I typed zwiebel’s name in the search bar, for a brief moment, it said “John Phillips (ZW)(artist)”. It kept coming up every time I was in contact with zwiebel, and sometime my curiosity rightfully got the best of me, and I clicked. ZW means Zimbabwe, the neighboring country for my fatherland. He had one added album, also simply called John, and the artwork was children’s drawing. I was way into my 60s psychedelic phase at that time, and Mercury’s comment of comparing it to Nick D, Elliott Smith, DIY-ness, home-recording was more than enough 4 me 2 instantly press play. (And…this is perhaps one of the few times where an album with so many expectations managed to get above them. Surely, I was blowing up its quality-status in my head, it cannot be really THAT good. Thats what I was thinking I'd conclude on subsequent spins. Well, it hasn’t happened. Listening again now, it shimmers and fills my heart with life and my mind with big ideas even now on my 27th or so listen.)
So yeah, a little bit absurd, but not as absurd as the story itself about John Phillips ZW. He’s a mysterious figure (I don’t even know what he looked like), who never made another record, and most of the already very-low numbered copies of this one also got seized and destroyed by security police during apartheid, out of fear it’ll cause riots. Which left less than 25 copies left in the world. However, if you only listen to the music, it’s anything but anarchistic, it sometimes tricks me into thinking it’s a paradox. Then he had a recording session in 1976 with nothing ever being released, and then died poor and ignored about 20 globe-spins later.
What could I say? This doesn’t even feel real. Just like the sheer brilliance of this album, John.
I mean, this album so stunning, mesmerizing, completely overwhelming for me, that how can it exist. This is too good to be true. The fact that it is so unknown adds to that feeling: it’s just something made up in my head. Well, maybe not, because even the brightest, most charismatic, enigmatic, creative part of my imagination still couldn’t make up an album this infectiously beautiful and wholeheartedly incredible as John. Even if this was the only remotely good album I ever found in searching for hidden gems, it’s still very enough reason to keep on going.
Just like you should take the popularity’s taste in music with a grain of salt, so should you with their music awareness. Else, complete beautiful albums like this would get recognition. And, just like the perfect day out with your best group of friends or significant other; after the day is over, it feels wrong to analyze what made it special, just want it to go on and the feeling is everything. It’s the same with precious John, I don’t really want to over analyze what makes Zimbabwean John Phillips so utterly beautiful and special to me, I just want to listen and nothing else. But I will give it a try anyway, cause I love it despite myself.
Musically, this album is a delicate 35 minute experience. The lyrics are densitive, stunning, at times funny and at times incredibly incisive. The guitar work is first rate. Phillips sounds like he was classically trained at times, the picking is sharp and beautiful. And the compositions and songs are all, and I mean all, fabulous and all-around formidable of highest caliber. It’s imaginative and puts you in awe, like a kid making a rollercoaster out of their soft ice. Doubtlessly, John is raised in the innocence and massive attractiveness of Donovan. However, John sparks that rarity of melodic higher power, beside a rarity of gratifying “breathy” whispery, definitively sweet baritone, with density that Donovan never could even reach. These melodies, from the first time I spun them, have build a living castle in the most gracious sub-level of my conscious. And I haven’t met many if any other place more gorgeous than that, every revisit by spinning John confirms that. Plus, I don’t know if John notices how much atmosphere he gives by even the slightest of reverb. Some of the tracks, having the vinyl crack over them, feels like metaphysical brooks with stones running over the infinite beauty coming through the soundwaves of the guitar and John's comforting breezy voice. The Rock is an interlude of American Primitivism at its most melodically intriguing, beside the cuteness.
He sings of such psychedelic imagery that could be found in Salvador Dali paintings or your favorite records from this era. His songs ranged from lovely and picturesque details of a far away land, to dark and cynical songs of unrest, tension, and nuclear fallout. I wish I wrote Ballad of A Tall Man, not only lyrically but that finger-picking conveying the morning-sunrise so phenomenally. Scaramouche has a super duper flavorful trumpet that beside its sailing melody, is the most psychedelic filled cut.
I am sitting on top of the tallest building in Heaven’s capital, singing and playing Peppermint Wind, what a speechlessly lovely song. And if I ever get kids, Imma sing these songs as lullabies and comforting tunes. Just close your eyes and (listen to) Whisper To The Wind. The already ever-glowing childlike urgency gets a heartwarming boost on the nursery rhyme of nature Willow Brook, with a bike bell that is the epitome of brightness, both aesthetically and sonically. The most atmospheric, even spacey folk song ever recorded, Mulberry Avenue, just by the light voice and ever-flowing fingerpicking, could shine in even some of the darkest voids in the psychological realm. Each tune could go on forever.
My favorite fantasy love song has to be Sylvia. Matter of fact, the song is a fantasy in itself, simply the way he sings her name makes me fall in love with her. Every fantasy land also has a peaceful or fascinating river and Pre Ante Pen Ultimatum is the one in John-land. The Bird With Plastic Feathers has to be the most cinematic, and scenarially thematic song. It’s also the cut with most instruments, with both sprinkling triangle and extremely colorful flute (oh my gosh a FLUTE!)
Paint Box Jester is the most ambiguous, and poetically simplistic nursery rhyme on the record, perhaps of all time. I still don’t know what the story portrays. And even if I did someday, it would even add to the bouncy melody. John is a full-on child, when he also says “hippity hop, great green grill stop!” and the song abruptly stops. When I do pay lazer-glazing attention to the lyrics, it gets heart-shivering. Primarily on Permutation Child, a tale of a girl who lost her hands in the bombing. In case I forget, John’s not only an album of strawberry honey chocolate sweet songs, by closer listening, it has some real shattering things to say, and it does it quite perfectly.
Look At The Time Fly sums up the philosophy of the album. Both the playfulness, as instead of time flies it is a time fly, but also the seriousness as in “Looks like you have too much medicine […] Time heals all if you know what I mean”, like what manufactured stuff may have what you need physically and momentarily, time gives you what is necessary for your spirituality.
I remain desperate trying to describe them, when in reality it should be very easy to, if you’ve pleasured yourself by hearing the album. However, I also hope you the reader do realize how much I love this album beyond words. It’s simultaneously how after astrotraveling or intense dreaming, you try to explain its unfolding beauty and meaning. Which makes sense, given that I still think John is too good to be true… that it is not existing in this world. It’s a myth from another dimension only a handful of people have been blessed enough to experience, me and Mercury being two.
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“Outsider music is music created by self-taught or naïve musicians. The term is usually applied to musicians from outside the music establishment who exhibit childlike qualities, and especially those who suffer from intellectual disabilities or mental illnesses. Outsider musicians often overlap with lo-fi artists, since their work is rarely captured in professional recording studios. “
Imagine going for a walk or taking a train somewhere, just after a day with company - good or bad day. Feeling alone again, and the first thing you hear is a voice asking how you are. Just like the iconic frog, the Poor You nursery has a bouncy melody, like a frog is bouncing up and down. It’s a sad song, but it does put a smile on my face as of how it’s executed.
Even for outsider music, this still stands out. Believe me, I have listened to Daniel Johnston's other loved records and they have their fair share of greatness, but Hi How Are You are simply his one-in-a-million stroke of absolute genius. Front to back, everything is nothing but a beautiful madness. All the short songs that reads like interludes on a normal album, to the newfound appreciation of incorporating guitar, to the much consistency in well-written ideas from the heart. Oh and the melodic finesse too. Individualistic creativity, that captures and exemplifies an inner spirit of mine. This tape is filled with cute melodies and sounds that lay their bed in your subconsciousness, sometimes with the tendency of wanting to play with some of your other thoughts. The lyrics are borderline stream-of-consciousness, set to childlike personality. I have a hard time explaining how magical it feels, but it is magical. It ain’t much different to what you could create in a matter of minutes for fun, but what makes it all special is that it beautifully finds depth within those emotions of strategy. So wondrously intimate my Lord. It’s lovely how Johnston recorded it at home on a 1-2 figure cassette recorder, whilst most musicians spend many figures to create and perfect their craft. But just like a little kid being obsessed and fascinated by a single simple toy and not needing anything else, Johnston is exactly that with the cassette tape. Now that is fascinating and charming in my eyes. All of this cassette is childlike, in the greatest way possible. Arguably the most gently playful little record I know. The melodies, the lo-fi quality, the loose concept (who’s Joe), the cute singing, even the song lengths is making you feel like a kid again - that is if you like it. Neurotypicals and traditional music listeners would arguably find this creepy or amateur to the core, and I understand them just as much as they misunderstand it. But for me, the ‘unsophisticated’ elements around it makes it all the more fun, humane, beautiful. The attractiveness of it being unfinished allures to how many possibilities each song would have if Johnston went even further (not necessarily completing/finishing them, just explored more). It is approximate to a child drawing, you love it just for how innocent it is. Walking The Cow is basically the sweetest pop song underneath the fidelities and the playfully strange lyrics. It shows that it’s alright to love such elementary things. As a matter of fact, it’s necessary to keep a certain likability to persona and life.
Daniel Johnston, we all love you, like you loved us enough to bless us with ur enigmatic beauty.
Lastly, I want ask you the reader: How are you my dear? [First added to this chart: 08/05/2024]
Imagine going for a walk or taking a train somewhere, just after a day with company - good or bad day. Feeling alone again, and the first thing you hear is a voice asking how you are. Just like the iconic frog, the Poor You nursery has a bouncy melody, like a frog is bouncing up and down. It’s a sad song, but it does put a smile on my face as of how it’s executed.
Even for outsider music, this still stands out. Believe me, I have listened to Daniel Johnston's other loved records and they have their fair share of greatness, but Hi How Are You are simply his one-in-a-million stroke of absolute genius. Front to back, everything is nothing but a beautiful madness. All the short songs that reads like interludes on a normal album, to the newfound appreciation of incorporating guitar, to the much consistency in well-written ideas from the heart. Oh and the melodic finesse too. Individualistic creativity, that captures and exemplifies an inner spirit of mine. This tape is filled with cute melodies and sounds that lay their bed in your subconsciousness, sometimes with the tendency of wanting to play with some of your other thoughts. The lyrics are borderline stream-of-consciousness, set to childlike personality. I have a hard time explaining how magical it feels, but it is magical. It ain’t much different to what you could create in a matter of minutes for fun, but what makes it all special is that it beautifully finds depth within those emotions of strategy. So wondrously intimate my Lord. It’s lovely how Johnston recorded it at home on a 1-2 figure cassette recorder, whilst most musicians spend many figures to create and perfect their craft. But just like a little kid being obsessed and fascinated by a single simple toy and not needing anything else, Johnston is exactly that with the cassette tape. Now that is fascinating and charming in my eyes. All of this cassette is childlike, in the greatest way possible. Arguably the most gently playful little record I know. The melodies, the lo-fi quality, the loose concept (who’s Joe), the cute singing, even the song lengths is making you feel like a kid again - that is if you like it. Neurotypicals and traditional music listeners would arguably find this creepy or amateur to the core, and I understand them just as much as they misunderstand it. But for me, the ‘unsophisticated’ elements around it makes it all the more fun, humane, beautiful. The attractiveness of it being unfinished allures to how many possibilities each song would have if Johnston went even further (not necessarily completing/finishing them, just explored more). It is approximate to a child drawing, you love it just for how innocent it is. Walking The Cow is basically the sweetest pop song underneath the fidelities and the playfully strange lyrics. It shows that it’s alright to love such elementary things. As a matter of fact, it’s necessary to keep a certain likability to persona and life.
Daniel Johnston, we all love you, like you loved us enough to bless us with ur enigmatic beauty.
Lastly, I want ask you the reader: How are you my dear? [First added to this chart: 08/05/2024]
Year of Release:
1983
Appears in:
Rank Score:
818
Rank in 1983:
Rank in 1980s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Total albums: 100. Page 1 of 10
Don't agree with this chart? Create your own from the My Charts page!
Top 100 Greatest Music Albums composition
| Decade | Albums | % | |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1930s | 0 | 0% | |
| 1940s | 0 | 0% | |
| 1950s | 1 | 1% | |
| 1960s | 12 | 12% | |
| 1970s | 14 | 14% | |
| 1980s | 9 | 9% | |
| 1990s | 27 | 27% | |
| 2000s | 19 | 19% | |
| 2010s | 17 | 17% | |
| 2020s | 1 | 1% |
| Artist | Albums | % | |
|---|---|---|---|
|
|
|||
| Bob Dylan | 3 | 3% | |
| Tim Buckley | 2 | 2% | |
| Damien Rice | 2 | 2% | |
| Michael Jackson | 2 | 2% | |
| Eels | 2 | 2% | |
| Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds | 2 | 2% | |
| XXXTentacion | 2 | 2% | |
| Show all | |||
| Country | Albums | % | |
|---|---|---|---|
|
|
|||
| |
66 | 66% | |
 |
19 | 19% | |
 |
3 | 3% | |
 |
3 | 3% | |
 |
2 | 2% | |
 |
2 | 2% | |
 |
2 | 2% | |
| Show all | |||
Top 100 Greatest Music Albums chart changes
| Biggest climbers |
|---|
| Up 83 from 99th to 16th Different Stars by Trespassers William |
| Up 63 from 73rd to 10th Hi, How Are You: The Unfinished Album by Daniel Johnston |
| Up 51 from 77th to 26th Of The Heart, Of The Soul And Of The Cross: The Utopian Experience by P.M. Dawn |
| Biggest fallers |
|---|
| Down 68 from 17th to 85th Wonderful Life by Black |
| Down 56 from 36th to 92nd Slow, Deep And Hard by Type O Negative |
| Down 54 from 23rd to 77th + [Plus] by Ed Sheeran |
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Top 100 Greatest Music Albums ratings
Average Rating = (n ÷ (n + m)) × av + (m ÷ (n + m)) × AVwhere:
av = trimmed mean average rating an item has currently received.
n = number of ratings an item has currently received.
m = minimum number of ratings required for an item to appear in a 'top-rated' chart (currently 10).
AV = the site mean average rating.
Showing latest 5 ratings for this chart. | Show all 102 ratings for this chart.
| Rating | Date updated | Member | Chart ratings | Avg. chart rating |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| ! | 02/05/2025 15:25 |  SomethingSpecial | 1,104 | 85/100 |
| ! | 01/16/2025 14:19 | Exist-en-ciel | 143 | 98/100 |
| ! | 09/03/2024 07:03 | mianfei | 168 | 62/100 |
| ! | 09/03/2024 04:04 | Moondance | 476 | 85/100 |
| ! | 09/02/2024 09:42 |  Tamthebam | 645 | 85/100 |
Rating metrics:
Outliers can be removed when calculating a mean average to dampen the effects of ratings outside the normal distribution. This figure is provided as the trimmed mean. A high standard deviation can be legitimate, but can sometimes indicate 'gaming' is occurring. Consider a simplified example* of an item receiving ratings of 100, 50, & 0. The mean average rating would be 50. However, ratings of 55, 50 & 45 could also result in the same average. The second average might be more trusted because there is more consensus around a particular rating (a lower deviation).
(*In practice, some charts can have several thousand ratings)
This chart is rated in the top 1% of all charts on BestEverAlbums.com. This chart has a Bayesian average rating of 91.3/100, a mean average of 89.8/100, and a trimmed mean (excluding outliers) of 91.9/100. The standard deviation for this chart is 17.3.
Top 100 Greatest Music Albums favourites
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Top 100 Greatest Music Albums comments
Showing latest 10 comments | Show all 61 comments |
Most Helpful First | Newest First | Positive Sentiment First |
Longest Comments First
(Only showing comments with -2 votes or higher. You can alter this threshold from your profile page. Manage Profile)
From mianfei 09/03/2024 07:07 | #305118
This probably the best chart I have seen on the site. The level of dedication to write the notes that must have been written is far beyond me — I admit I have trouble writing notes for my own chart, and the write-ups I do make are nothing like as detailed as those seen here.
Then the list itself is very interesting beyond the notes, even with only five artists in common with my own chart. It is obviously very personal and well thought-out, like I feel charts must be but almost never are, and contains a combination of genres that is nothing stereotyped.
An interesting point is how you mention Scaruffi re ‘Yerself Is Steam’ — I feel similarly about how he turned me onto that one.
Helpful? (Log in to vote) | +1 votes (1 helpful | 0 unhelpful)
From Moondance 09/03/2024 04:04 | #305113
We may only have 2 albums in common - but we do have a passionate love of modern music in all its weird shapes & sizes. I got nothing but love & admiration for this chart.
Helpful? (Log in to vote) | +2 votes (2 helpful | 0 unhelpful)
From 
Mercury 08/11/2024 04:56 | #304703
Mercury 08/11/2024 04:56 | #304703
Great chart!
Helpful? (Log in to vote) | 0 votes (1 helpful | 1 unhelpful)
From Johnnyo 12/05/2022 07:39 | #291777
I don’t agree with a lot of the picks but this is a very personal chart, which is the point, and the work that has gone into each entry has to be admired. Keep up the good work
Helpful? (Log in to vote) | +3 votes (3 helpful | 0 unhelpful)
From leniad 04/14/2022 22:59 | #284263
good chart
Helpful? (Log in to vote) | +1 votes (1 helpful | 0 unhelpful)
From 
EyeKanFly 09/14/2021 21:11 | #273732
EyeKanFly 09/14/2021 21:11 | #273732
Still going through a lot of this. Thanks for the insane amount of writing you've done on every single album (and the intro!). My only qualm so far is the way you've written Close to the Edge is... annoying to read through lol, but hey it's your vision. Honestly not a ton of disagreement about the albums themselves, and a few which your descriptions have led me to add to my wishlist.
This is an incredible effort, and I'll definitely be pinning this for a revisit! Whether to read another take on some of my favorite albums, to hear an alternate opinion on an album I don't much like, or to get an insanely comprehensive recommendation on an album I haven't heard of, there's a lot to do here.
Helpful? (Log in to vote) | +2 votes (2 helpful | 0 unhelpful)
From 
DriftingOrpheus 04/28/2021 08:38 | #269063
DriftingOrpheus 04/28/2021 08:38 | #269063
Nothing but respect for this level of dedication. These fruits of labor really show how special music can be to us and why this platform is so necessary in stoking that fire. Great work!
Helpful? (Log in to vote) | +6 votes (6 helpful | 0 unhelpful)
From 
seb7 03/17/2021 18:57 | #267433
seb7 03/17/2021 18:57 | #267433
I appreciate next to none of the picks here but GODDAM the amount of work put into this.
Helpful? (Log in to vote) | +6 votes (6 helpful | 0 unhelpful)
From 
calsper 01/04/2021 10:55 | #263803
calsper 01/04/2021 10:55 | #263803
What a chart!
Brilliant, personal, informative, original. Keep up the good work!
Kind regards C
Helpful? (Log in to vote) | +2 votes (2 helpful | 0 unhelpful)
From 
danmarzella 11/29/2020 02:41 | #261614
danmarzella 11/29/2020 02:41 | #261614
Good list too!
Helpful? (Log in to vote) | +1 votes (1 helpful | 0 unhelpful)
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