Monday, July 27, 2015

The 100 Essential Albums Of Rock's First 50 Years: 1954-2003.

After trying to feel out the rock & roll canon both classically & scientifically, I have come up with the rock canon—or at least my version of it—the 100 essential albums of rock & roll's first 50 years. For the record (no pun intended), I'm using Elvis's first single, "That's All Right," as the birth of rock in 1954, which means the list goes up through 2003.

Here are some basic rules I used to guide my list:
  • There is only rock music. Early influences (such as Robert Johnson, Hank Williams, or Billie Holiday) & contemporary influences of other genres (like Miles Davis, Muddy Waters, or Johnny Cash) were all left out.
  • I went by the classic titles. As a purist, I included the long-held classics of the genre (such as Elvis Presley's The Sun Sessions & The Beach Boys' Endless Summer) even if they were long out-of-print; in such cases, I included a footnote to a modern substitution that is its closest in-print equivalent.
  • I avoided all multi-disc & multi-artist compilations. These are all albums that fit on one compact disc, even when the original vinyl was issued on two. The idea of using multi-artist albums was too much of a slippery slope to venture, despite worthy volumes like soundtrack to The Harder They Come or Saturday Night Fever, or a Phil Spector collection.
  • I usually went by the artist over the title. By this rule, I left out some classic albums (Love's Forever Changes & Carole King's Tapestry) to make sure I had room for artists who merited inclusion despite not having an album that was as much as a stone-cold classic (Jerry Lee Lewis & Janis Joplin). In the end, I tried to make a list that met in the middle of the most classic artists & their most classic albums.
  • I tried to keep the number of entries per artist balanced. Only The Beatles have 5 albums; Bob Dylan & The Rolling Stones each have 4, & only Elvis & Hendrix have 3. A handful of artists have two albums when each LP is a classic in their own right (i.e., Springsteen's Born To Run and Born In The USA) &/or it was essential to showing the performer's influence (i.e., The Who getting an early greatest hits as well as Who's Next). However, more albums doesn't necessarily mean greater influence; Chuck Berry is lightyears more influential than Radiohead, but Berry's contribution can be summed up by a single album, whereas Radiohead's cannot.
  • Finally, artists are represented in the era by which they are most associated—and not necessarily the era in which their albums were released. After each album title is the label upon which it was released followed by the date the album came out. If the album is a compilation that covers several years, the spanning years are written before the release date.

Like anything else, the rest ultimately came down to my own judgment. The whole process was obsessive, agonizing, and conflicted—but hey, that's half the fun.

So here is the canon of rock and roll music—the rock, as it were, upon which rock and roll rests.



The 1950s.


Chuck Berry: The Great Twenty-Eight*
(MCA, 1955-1965/1982)

"Maybellene," "Roll Over Beethoven," "Sweet Little Sixteen," and twenty-five more reasons why John Lennon wasn't kidding when he said another word for rock and roll might be Chuck Berry; features "Johnny B. Goode," the greatest rock record of them all.


Ray Charles: The Best Of The Atlantic Years
(Atlantic, 1951-1959/1994)

Hear Brother Ray invent soul music from the best of his Atlantic Records masters, from the hard rhythm and blues of "I've Got A Woman" through the secular gospel of "Hallelujah, I Love Her So" and the archetypal funk of "What'd I Say."



Ray Charles: Modern Sounds In Country & Western Music
(ABC, 1962)

Ray Charles' finest studio album shocked everyone by breaking down the walls between soul and country, but hits like "I Can't Stop Loving You" and "You Don't Know Me," explained its smash success—this was pure American pop, through and through.


Buddy Holly: 20 Golden Greats*
(EMI, 1956-1958/1978)

The first everyman of rock and roll, as well as one of its finest (and first) singer-songwriters—tunes like "That'll Be The Day," "Not Fade Away," and "Words Of Love" provided a spring upon which The Beatles, Dylan, and The Stones could drink from the same well.


Jerry Lee Lewis: 18 Original Greatest Hits
(Rhino, 1956-1961/1989)


Rock and roll madness in its purist form, as titles on the sleeve "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On," "Great Balls Of Fire," and "Breathless" seemed to tell the whole story, but only hinted at the apocalyptic fury that lay within the grooves inside.



Little Richard: Here's Little Richard*
(Specialty, 1955-1956/1957)

Rock music's original masterpiece LP, with "Long Tall Sally," "Ready Teddy," and "Tutti Frutti," which contained the finest definition of rock and roll music ever ventured in its closing ten words: "A wop bop a loo bop a wop bam boom!"



Elvis Presley: The Sun Sessions*
(RCA, 1954-1955/1976)

A weird 19-year-old truck-driver named Elvis cuts ten perfect singles—including "That's All Right," "Good Rockin' Tonight," "Baby, Let's Play House," and "Mystery Train"—that define rock and roll and completely change the course of popular music.



Elvis Presley: Elvis Presley
(RCA, 1956)
 

From the opening count-off of "Blue Suede Shoes" through to the final cadence of "Money Honey," rock music's first masterpiece, crafted by its first legend; a mix of rock, pop, country, & R&B that was a stone-cold instant classic, down to its iconic (and much-imitated) cover.


Elvis Presley: Elvis' Golden Records*
(RCA, 1956-1957/1957)

With "Hound Dog," "Heartbreak Hotel," "Don't Be Cruel," "Love Me Tender," "All Shook Up," "Jailhouse Rock," "(Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear," and the rest, this is the music that made the man King—just before the Army came and stole his crown.




The 1960s.


The Band: The Band
(Capitol, 1969)

The Great American Novel as a rock and roll album dreamed up by 4 Canadian nomads and an Arkansas drummer; "Up On Cripple Creek" and "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" are the classics, but it was "Across The Great Divide" that gave away their hand.


The Beach Boys: Endless Summer**
(Capitol, 1962-1966/1974)

California as a state of mind, charted in songs about surfing ("Surfin' U.S.A."), cars ("I Get Around"), and girls ("California Girls"), and anchored by brooding songs like "Don't Worry Baby," which looked beyond the summer to hint at the maturity that was to come.


The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
(Capitol, 1966)

Rock and roll's first modern artistic masterpiece, a city upon a hill of hope ("Wouldn't It Be Nice"), beauty ("God Only Knows"), and ultimately, loss ("Caroline, No"), which sailed on an ocean of sound so full that it could float a ship of fools ("Sloop John B"); their finest album.


The Beatles: 1
(Apple, 2000/1962-1970)

From "I Want To Hold Your Hand" to "A Hard Day's Night" to "Help!" to "Yesterday" to "We Can Work It Out" to "Penny Lane" to "All You Need Is Love" to "Hey Jude" and "Let It Be," a history of the 1960s in 27 #1 singles by the band who defined the era.



The Beatles: Rubber Soul
(Parlophone, 1965)

Beatlemania smokes pot, digs Dylan, and comes up the archetypal modern rock masterpiece—acoustically mature in some places ("In My Life"), electrically rocking in others ("Drive My Car"), and cryptically eclectic all around ("Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)").


The Beatles: Revolver
(Parlophone, 1966)

John finds LSD ("Tomorrow Never Knows"), Paul finds classicism ("Eleanor Rigby"), George finds meditation ("Love You To"), and Ringo finds a #1 hit ("Yellow Submarine") in their finest album—all parts independent, yet forming a common whole.


The Beatles: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
(Parlophone, 1967)

If not "The Greatest Album Of All-Time," surely the most influential, as the title track, "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds," and "A Day In The Life" charted the course from Rock to Art, and in so doing, divided the history of the music in two.


The Beatles: Abbey Road
(Apple, 1970)

And in the end, this was their fitting and sophisticated swan-song; but with "Come Together," "Here Comes The Sun," and Side 2's brilliant "Long Medley," it was not just a finale—it was their finest-produced and most-accomplished album.



James Brown: Live At The Apollo
(King, 1963)

Rock's greatest live album and R&B's finest hour is just another night for the Hardest Working Man In Show Business, as he begs, borrows, and steals his way through hits like "I'll Go Crazy" and "Think," then fans the audience's flame on an extended "Lost Someone."


James Brown: 20 All-Time Greatest Hits!
(Polydor, 1956-1974/1991)

Nothing less than a history of modern African American music, from hard R&B ("Please, Please, Please") to fiery soul ("I Got You (I Feel Good)") to hot funk ("Sex Machine") to proto-rap ("Papa Don't Take No Mess, Pt. 1"); endlessly sampled, but never equalled.


The Byrds: Greatest Hits
(Columbia, 1965-1967/1967)

With Dylan's words and The Beatles' sound, this was folk-rock, literally—defined by "Mr. Tambourine Man," "Turn! Turn! Turn!," and "Chimes of Freedom," before going to acid-rock ("Eight Miles High"), space-rock ("Mr. Spaceman"), and back ("My Back Pages).



Sam Cooke: The Best Of
(RCA, 1957-1962/1962)

When "You Send Me" hit #1, Sam Cooke crossed the divide between gospel titan and soul pioneer; those who want to dig deeper should opt for Portrait Of A Legend, but with "Chain Gang," "Cupid," & the rest, this the stuff upon which he built his legend.




Cream: Disraeli Gears
(Reaction, 1967)

11 tracks of Cream on top, just before the pop gave way to the self-indulgence—an acid rock tour of love ("Sunshine Of Your Love"), drugs ("Tales Of Brave Ulysses"), and, um, beer (?) ("Strange Brew"), held up by an old 78 ("Outside Woman Blues").



The Doors: The Doors
(Elektra, 1967)

Beginning with "Break On Through," climaxing on "Light My Fire," and closing with "The End," the archetypal statement of sex, drugs, and rock and roll—or, the brooding darkness hidden just under psychedelic rock's diamond sky that set the stage for the rest of the decade.


Bob Dylan: Bringing It All Back Home
(Columbia, 1965)

Bob Dylan plugs in and all but invents modern rock and roll—as abstract lyrics meet a garage rock hurricane on "Subterranean Homesick Blues" and "Maggie's Farm," before the sound and fury subside for an acoustic side crowned by "Mr. Tambourine Man."


Bob Dylan: Highway 61 Revisited
(Columbia, 1965)

From the gun-shot drum-hit of the epic "Like A Rolling Stone" through the winding back alleys of "Desolation Row," this is Bob Dylan's finest hour—and by extension, one of rock's too—built with restlessness in its heart and the highway in its spine.


Bob Dylan: Blonde On Blonde
(Columbia, 1966)

The capstone to Dylan's initial rock trilogy is an extended meditation on love ("I Want You"), drugs ("Rainy Day Women #12 & 35"), and poetry ("Visions Of Johanna"), with glimpses of death and humor wrapped in what he famously dubbed "that wild, mercury sound."


Bob Dylan: Blood On The Tracks
(Columbia, 1975)

With his marriage in shambles, Dylan shuffled this album together from half-electric ("Tangled Up In Blue," "Idiot Wind") and half-acoustic ("A Simple Twist Of Fate," "Shelter From The Storm") stunners that stand as his finest work since the 1960s.


Aretha Franklin: I Never Loved A Man The Way I Loved You
(Atlantic, 1967)

The fervor of the church meets the fire of the bedroom on songs like "Respect," "Drown In My Own Tears," "Do Right Woman, Do Right Man," and the title track, which double as Aretha's arrival as an R&B powerhouse and what many consider the greatest soul album ever made.


Aretha Franklin: Lady Soul
(Atlantic, 1968)

The Queen Of Soul begins her reign on this second masterpiece, with the definitive readings of "Chain Of Fools" and "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman," released just before her career lost focus in a sea of overwrought performances and scattershot material.


Marvin Gaye: What's Going On
(Tamla, 1971)

Rock and roll as a sermon in soul music's first (and finest) concept album, with Gaye's eyes focused on heaven but soul weary as hell; propelled by hits like the title track and "Mercy Mercy Me," and "Inner City Blues," it would become Motown's best-selling album ever.


Jimi Hendrix: Are You Experienced
(Reprise, 1967)

Rock's greatest guitarist makes rock's greatest debut album of all-time, which sounds like an avalanche and feels like a greatest hits; on "Purple Rain," "Hey Joe," "The Wind Cries Mary," "Foxy Lady," and the rest, this was a rare album that simply changed everything.


Jimi Hendrix: Axis/Bold As Love
(Reprise, 1967)

An underrated "sophomore slump" that most bands would kill to have be their finest album, Hendrix digs in and deepens the textures—both musically and lyrically—on "Spanish Castle Magic," "Little Wing," "Castles Made Of Sand," and the staggering "If 6 was 9."


Jimi Hendrix: Electric Ladyland
(Reprise, 1968)

For the first and only time in his all-too-brief career, Hendrix received unlimited studio time and came up with this, a 2-LP exploration of love, rock, and sci-fi, which peaked with "All Along The Watchtower," the greatest Dylan cover ever—and somehow, Hendrix's only US Top 20 hit.


Janis Joplin: Greatest Hits
(Columbia, 1966-1971/1973)

Rock's greatest white female singer dressed like a hippie and shouted like a rocker, but remained a blues singer down to her tortured soul; with "Piece Of My Heart" and "Me And Bobbie McGee," this is all-thrills, no-frills overview is still the collection to beat.


Otis Redding: Otis Blue: Otis Redding Sings Soul
(Atco, 1965)
The King Of Soul's finest hour, as he reinterprets old hits ("A Change Is Gonna Come"), sets up new ones ("Respect"), takes on the rockers at their own game ("Satisfaction"), and ruminates on love and loss as only he can ("I've Been Loving You Too Long").


The Rolling Stones: Big Hits (High Tide & Green Grass)
(London, 1964-1966/1966)

The Rolling Stones don't so much arrive in pop culture as they do assault it, blasting consumerism ("Get Off Of My Cloud"), sex ("Heart Of Stone"), class ("Play With Fire"), and, on their signature "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction," all of the above.


The Rolling Stones: Beggars Banquet
(London, 1968)

With "Sympathy For The Devil" leading the way, The Stones enter their "Greatest Rock And Roll Band In The World" phase with the sound to prove it—part blues, part country, and, on "Street Fighting Man," all revolutionary.


The Rolling Stones: Let It Bleed
(London, 1969)

An Irish wake for the 1960s, released just on the cusp of their collapse by the band who would put the final nail on the coffin—the apocalyptic "Gimme Shelter" told the whole story, but "You Can't Always Get What You Want" kept you coming back for more.


The Rolling Stones: Exile On Main Street
(Rolling Stones, 1972)

A murky, messy sprawl of an album, with no real relent, just hard, thick rock; "Tumbling Dice" was the closest thing to a hit single, while "Rocks Off" and "Down The Line" played like the equivalent of drowning in a mud pit—is it any wonder that this is their finest album?


Diana Ross & The Supremes: The Definitive Collection
(Motown, 1963-1969/2008)

The Motown Sound in its Platonian form, best heard in 12 #1 songs—including "Where Did Our Love Go," "Baby Love," "Stop! In The Name Of Love," "You Can't Hurry Love," "Love Child," and a few that have nothing to do with love—still a record for an American vocal group.


Simon & Garfunkel: Bridge Over Troubled Water
Columbia, 1970)

The calm in the storm of '60s rock as captured on their definitive album, released just as the 1960s—and the duo itself—was dissolving altogether; with soon-to-be-standards like "The Boxer," "Cecilia," and the title track, this was a perfect ending for both.


Sly & The Family Stone: Greatest Hits
(Columbia, 1967-1969/1970)

A '60s utopia where race, sex, and class knew no boundaries and made music to match, as hits like "Dance To The Music" and "Everyday People" blended rock, pop, soul, and funk; in other words, a Great Society that actually worked, hidden in state-of-the-art acid rock.


Sly & The Family Stone: There's A Riot Goin' On!
(Columbia, 1971)


The title answered Marvin Gaye's What's Going On while the music took the Great Society of Sly's '60s work and burnt it down; with songs like "Thank You For Talkin' To Me Africa," it was a dark, challenging LP, though "Family Affair" was still funky enough to hit #1.


The Velvet Underground & Nico
(Verve, 1967)


Overlooked at the time and indispensable ever since, Lou Reed & Co. crawled into rock and roll's seething id of hard drugs ("Heroin"), hard sex ("Venus In Furs"), and hard noise ("European Son"), inventing postmodern rock and roll and setting the stage for punk.


The Who: Meaty Beaty Big & Bouncy**
(Track, 1965-1970/1971)

They called it "Maximum R&B," but in early hits like "My Generation," "The Kids Are Alright," "Substitute," and the acid-inspired "I Can See For Miles," this was cutting-edge pop music, lovingly wrapped in a tempest of the hardest rock and roll of its time.


The Who: Who's Next
(Track, 1971)

The group turns up the cynicism, throws in synthesizers, and reinvents themselves as arena rockers—God knows they were already loud enough, but with "Baba O'Riley" and "Won't Get Fooled Again," they had songs as huge as their venues; their finest album.




The 1970s.


Aerosmith: Rocks
(Columbia, 1976)

They would have bigger and more popular albums, but in tracks like "Last Child" and "Back In the Saddle," they would never have better; this is point at which Aerosmith could look back and call themselves "America's Greatest Rock And Roll Band" with a straight face.


The Allman Brothers Band: At Fillmore East
(Capricorn, 1971)

The biggest American band of their day shows off their musical prowess in this double-LP with equal parts hits ("Statesboro Blues") and jams ("Whipping Post"), built around Duane's electric slide and Gregg's rough-hewn vocals, all captured live and raw, just before the fall.


Black Sabbath: Paranoid
(Vertigo, 1970)


The definitive album from the definitive heavy metal band, with enormous riffs fueling angst-filled classics like "Iron Man," "War Pigs," and the title track, all spit with venom by Ozzy Osbourne, decades before he became a pop-culture punchline.

 
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
(RCA, 1971)


Bowie's first masterpiece, with a hit ("Changes"), an epic ("Life On Mars?"), & 3 killings of the father ("Andy Warhol," "Song to Bob Dylan, and the Reed-inspired "Queen Bitch"), before returning to the strangeness ("The Bewlay Brothers") from which it had come.



David Bowie: The Rise & Fall Of Ziggy Stardust & The Spiders From Mars
(RCA, 1972)

Rock and roll as a passion play about an alien named "Ziggy Stardust" who has "Five Years" to become the world's biggest "Star," until committing a "Rock And Roll Suicide"; if Bowie couldn't quite live it out in real life, you'd never know it from the music.


The Clash: London Calling
(CBS, 1979)

The Only Band That Mattered ventures out from punk rock into an apocalyptic rock wasteland of the title track, and remake the music in their own image with rockabilly ("Brand New Cadillac"), reggae ("Rudie Can't Fail"), and a surprise pop hit ("Train In Vain").



Derek & The Dominos: Layla & Other Assorted Love Songs
(Atco, 1970)



Eric Clapton's finest hour, his guitar work energized by bandmate Duane Allman's slide ("Bell Bottom Blues") and his performances wracked by the agony of being in love with his best friend's wife ("Layla"); it was too raw to last, but the best rock usually is.


The Eagles: Hotel California
(Asylum, 1976)

A bicentennial portrait of America from the other side of western expansionism, centered around the title track's gilded palace of sin; "They call it paradise, I don't know why," the singer warns in the closer, "The Last Resort," "You call some place paradise, kiss it goodbye."


Fleetwood Mac: Rumours
(Warner Brothers, 1977)

A perfect '70s pop band whose relationships were falling apart craft a perfect '70s pop album about relationships falling apart—powered by hits like "Dreams," "Don't Stop," and "The Chain," it was the best-selling album of all time until Thriller came along.


Al Green: Greatest Hits
(Hi, 1971-1973/1975)

Following in the footsteps of Cooke and Redding, Green was the top soul singer of his time, as he crooned and pled his way through "Tired Of Being Alone," "Let's Stay Together," and "Love And Happiness," until he gave up his pop soul in favor of his immortal soul.


Elton John: Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
(MCA, 1973)

The '70s most indulgent artist makes his most indulgent statement, an ambitious, sprawling double-album of hits ("Bennie And The Jets"), classics ("Candle In The Wind"), and excess (the 11-minute plus "Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding" opener).


Led Zeppelin: II
(Atlantic, 1969)

The archetypal heavy metal rockers perfect hard rock ("What Is And What Should Never Be" and "Heartbreaker") and play tribute to the blues ("The Lemon Song" and "Bring It On Home"), except on "Whole Lotta Love" (their sole US Top 10 hit), in which they do both.


Led Zeppelin: Untitled [IV]
(Atlantic, 1971)
Their finest album, which means it was hard rock's finest album as well—"Black Dog," "Rock And Roll," and "Stairway To Heaven" may get it all of the attention, but it's the epic reworking of the ancient blues holler "When The Levee Breaks" that steals the show.


John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band
(Apple, 1970)

Rock album-making as primal scream therapy—or, with "God," a Cartesian exercise in what constitutes reality; either way, in "Mother," "Working Class Hero," and "Love," Lennon broke out of The Beatles to craft the most "real" singer-songwriter album of them all.


Bob Marley: Legend
(Tuff Gong, 1973-1980/1984)

A perfect summation of reggae's master that more than lives up to its title, as classics like "Get Up Stand Up," "One Love," "I Shot The Sheriff" and more have propelled it to become the biggest-selling reggae album of all-time; I'd say you should own it, but you already do.



Joni Mitchell: Blue
(Reprise, 1971)

Sweet Baby James was earlier and Tapestry was bigger, but Blue was the best—over ten stark ballads like "Carey" and "A Case Of You," Mitchell plumbs the depths of her emotions, all coming back to the central question of "California": "Will you take me as I am?"


Van Morrison: Astral Weeks
(Warner Brothers, 1968)


Jazz as pop as rock as memory as time, ventured in the slipstream and wrapped in the blues, way up in the heaven; or, in songs like "Cyprus Avenue" and "Madame George" a journey deep into the mystic, as crafted by the most mystical rocker of them all.



  

Van Morrison: Moondance
(Warner Brothers, 1970)

Van Morrison's most popular album, thanks in part to its romantic streak—the rollicking "And It Stoned Me," the hush "Crazy Love," and the swinging title track—which took the mysticism of his earlier work to a whole new level, and then went out with the show-stopping "Caravan."


Pink Floyd: The Dark Side Of The Moon
(Capitol, 1973)


Although it was only #1 for one week and had only one medium-sized hit ("Money"), this LP stayed on the US charts for a record decade and a half, as rock fans were swept into its singularly epic vision, culminating in the eerie finale of "Brain Damage/Eclipse."


The Ramones: The Ramones
(Sire, 1976)

"1-2-3-4!" As in, 1 revolutionary sound + 2-minute songs + 3-chords + 4 cartoon rockers posing as brothers = what leader Joey Ramone famously described as a sort of bubblegum music for sick kids—or, as it would soon be called, punk.




The Sex Pistols: Never Mind The Bollocks
(Virgin, 1977)

As the anti-leaders of rock's imploded third wave, the definitive punk band defines the sound in instant-standards like "Anarchy In The UK" and "God Save The Queen," relentlessly screamed with a blank stare by a hunchbacked man with green teeth named Johnny Rotten.


Patti Smith: Horses
(Arista, 1975)


With "Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine," it had the best first line in rock—and the rest of the LP more than lived up to its promise; from the trash-rock rewrite of "Gloria" through the epic "Land," poetry, pop, and punk mingled freely until all that remained was art.


Bruce Springsteen: Born To Run
(Columbia, 1975)

Rock and roll's biggest fan grabs Elvis's jacket, Dylan's cadence, and Spector's sound in a laughing grifter's shot at the music's biggest statement—and, in songs like the rambling "Thunder Road" & the wanderlust title track, comes closer to it than anyone has since.


Bruce Springsteen: Born In The U.S.A.
(Columbia, 1984)


The Promise is broken by four years of Reaganomics, yet he masked anger in nostalgia ("Glory Days") and fun ("Dancing In The Dark") so effectively that even Reagan tried to appropriate the bitter anti-Vietnam title track as a feel-good, all-American fist-pumper.



Stevie Wonder: Talking Book
(Tamla, 1972)


Motown's boy genius grows up, reaches for greatness, and finally gets it with this, his first masterpiece; "You Are The Sunshine Of My Life" and "I Believe" are the standards, but "Superstition" is still the funkiest thing I've ever heard.


Stevie Wonder: Innervisions
(Talma, 1973)

Wonder survives a car wreck, makes himself into a one-man band in the studio, and makes the music of his life; along the way was love ("All In Love Is Fair"), politics ("Living For The City"), drugs ("Too High"), and hot funk ("Higher Ground").


Neil Young: After The Gold Rush
(Reprise, 1970)


Young was the '70s definitive rocker because he was the music's definitive iconoclast; this album would be his most celebrated—wistful (the title track), fierce ("Southern Man"), playful ("Cripple Creek Ferry"), and always uncompromised.


Neil Young: Harvest
(Reprise, 1972)


Neil Young at his most surprising—open and accessible, with the #1 hit "Heart Of Gold" to prove it; largely subdued and country-inspired, bittersweet classics like "Old Man" and "The Needle And The Damage Done" took rock to the high and lonesome—literally.




The 1980s.




AC/DC: Back In Black
(Atlantic, 1980)

AC/DC was on the brink of international stardom when singer Bon Scott died from alcohol poisoning; from the tolling of "Hell's Bells" through the title track and infectious "You Shook Me All Night," this was his funeral—and a better-than-ever rebirth for the band.


The Beastie Boys: Paul's Boutique
(Capitol, 1989)

Three NYC rap-party pranksters reinvent themselves as cutting-edge MCs—sly, slick, and full of allusions, best heard in "Shake Your Rump," "Hey Ladies," and "Shadrack"—on top of a platter of samples so thick, it redefines the meaning of American freedom in music.


Grandmaster Flash, Melle Mel & The Furious Five: The Best Of: Message From Beat Street
(Rhino, 1980-1985/1994)


The most influential group of early rap epitomized the party music until "The Message" and "White Lines (Don't Do It)," in which the party stopped and the group surveyed the wasteland outside that the music had previously sheltered them from.


Guns N' Roses: Appetite For Destruction
(Geffen, 1987)


L.A. heathens whip hard rock back into shape, just in time to put the last nail in glam-metal's coffin; "Welcome To The Jungle" and "Paradise City" were pure rock hedonism, but just as impressive was "Sweet Child O' Mine," the only power ballad that doesn't suck.


Michael Jackson: Off The Wall
(Epic, 1979)

Motown's boy wonder grows up and, with two number one hits ("Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough" and "Rock With You") and two more reaching the Top 10 ("She's Out Of My Life" and the title track), a star is born—on the disco dance floor, of all places.

 
Michael Jackson: Thriller
(Epic, 1982)


For one brief, shining moment, rock, R&B, and pop all converged into one once-and-again best-selling LP of all-time—immortalized in the street hustle of "Beat It," the paranoid pop of "Billie Jean," and the ridiculous B-movie freak-show "Thriller"—and it was Good.


Madonna: The Immaculate Collection
(Sire, 1983-1990/1990)


'Tis a party, she's a whore, until "Like A Prayer" appears, and the artist suddenly lives up to her name; but then again, "Borderline," "Like A Virgin," and "Material World" were no mere dancefloor throwaways—they're some of most immaculate pop ever conceived.


Metallica: Master Of Puppets
(Elektra, 1986)


The finest heavy metal album by the band who all but single-handedly saved the genre. In songs like "Battery," and the title track, Metallica crafted dense, sprawling epics of anger and fear that redefined heavy metal for all who have played the music ever since.

 
Prince: Purple Rain
(Warner Brothers, 1984)

The Purple One at the peak of his talent and popularity in instant-classics such as "When Doves Cry," "Let's Go Crazy," and "I Would Die 4 U" turned funk into confession and sex into love; a pop/rock/R&B "Song Of Myself" that would've even made Whitman blush.


Public Enemy: It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back
(Def Jam, 1988)


Chuck D brought a newfound sense of politics to songs like "Bring The Noise" and "Don't Believe The Hype," which was met by Terminator X's beats and offset by Flava Flav's cold lampin'—the result was the Sgt. Pepper of rap: the genre's "official" greatest  album.


Run-D.M.C.: Raising Hell
(Profile, 1986)


After Run-D.M.C.'s hit with Aerosmith on "Walk This Way" broke down the wall between rap and rock (literally, in the video), they followed up with a classic LP of street rhymes ("My Adidas"), social rhymes ("Proud To Be Black"), and nursery rhymes ("Peter Piper").


The Smiths: The Queen Is Dead

(Sire, 1986)

The definitive UK indie band of the 1980s crafts the decade's finest rock album, as Morrissey croons songs about death ("I Know It's Over"), love ("The Boy With The Thorn In His Side"), and death to measure love ("There Is A Light That Never Goes Out.")




Talking Heads: Remain In Light
(Sire, 1980)


The artiest band of the New York punk scene took on the world with this LP, building a sound on tape-loops of polyrhythmic African music; the result was an innovative record with a hit single, "Once In A Lifetime," with an archetypal video to match.


U2: The Joshua Tree
(Island, 1987)


Outside is America, as the group crafted a sound that was nearly as big as the land they sought to conquer; songs like "Where The Streets Have No Name" or "With Or Without You" grasped for a terrain so wide-open, it could only be found in one's imagination.



U2: Achtung Baby
(Island, 1991)

With this album, Bono went into his ironic biggest-rockstar-in-the-world shtick with rockers like "Even Better Than The Real Thing" and "Mysterious Ways," but best of all was "One"—a song about the limits of loyalty that literally saved the band from breaking up.




The 1990s.

Dr. Dre: The Chronic
(Death Row, 1992)


On the definitive rap album of the 1990s, Dr. Dre steps out from behind the producer's desk, shares the mic with a then-unknown Snoop Doggy Dogg, and in hits like "Nuthin' But A G Thang" and "Dre Day," creates gangsta rap's first modern masterpiece.


Lauryn Hill: The Miseducation Of
(Ruffhouse, 1998)

Ex-Fugee Lauryn Hill went to Tuff Gong in Jamaica and recorded an album that encompassed the entire stretch of modern black music from pop to rock to reggae to hip-hop (and back); and with her own #1 hit, "Doo Wop (That Thing)," she even added to the history herself.


Nine Inch Nails: The Downward Spiral
(Nothing, 1994)


Equal parts rocking, beautiful, and haunting, songs like "Closer" and "March Of The Pigs" helped put industrial at the forefront of rock, but it was Johnny Cash's surprise cover of "Hurt" that proved this wasn't just great postmodern music—it was great American music.


Nirvana: Nevermind
(DGC, 1991)

A loud Seattle trio led by a loser who used to live under a bridge finally break punk (now called grunge) in one of the finest albums in rock history: "Smells Like Teen Spirit" was the anthem, "In Bloom" was the mindset, and "Come As You Are" was the password.


Nirvana: In Utero
(DGC, 1993)

Nirvana teams with dream producer Steve Albini to produce their most accomplished studio album; songs like "Heart-Shaped Box," "Pennyroyal Tea," and "Dumb" took the music beyond Nevermind—even a song as polarizing as "Rape Me" sounded monumental.

Pearl Jam: Ten
(Epic, 1991)

The Stones to Nirvana's Beatles, Pearl Jam focused on their hard rock craft until they outlasted virtually everyone else; early classics like "Alive" and "Evenflow" set the course for their music, but it was the stunning "Jeremy" that predicted the Columbine shootings.



Radiohead: OK Computer

(Parlophone, 1997)


The collapse of the 20th Century in an album that made Radiohead the most influential group at the brink of the 21st, as "Paranoid Android," "Karma Police," and "No Surprises" walked the line between man and machine with a post-grunge edge and a wistful beauty.



R.E.M.: Automatic For The People
(I.R.S., 1992)

Almost ten years after Murmur, R.E.M. releases a mostly quiet, understated collection of songs—such as "Everybody Hurts," "Man On The Moon," and "Nightswimming"—that are as murky as the swamp but elegant enough for AM radio; their finest album.





The 2000s.


Eminem: The Marshall Mathers LP
(Aftermath, 2000)

What if the smartest person in America was also the angriest? Eminem's second album provided an answer, as "The Real Slim Shady" and "Stan" spewed a fire bitterness and ridicule, while proving him to be one of the finest (and funniest) MCs to pick up a mic.


The Strokes: Is This It
(RCA, 2001)

The great white hype and momentary saviors of rock, they took everything good about New Wave, mixed it with The Velvet Underground, and sang it through a megaphone; "Last Night" was the anthem, but "Someday" is one of the prettiest songs I ever heard.


The White Stripes: Elephant
(V2, 2003)

The guitar-&-drums garage rock revivalists' major-label debut, chockfull of new sounds (a bass on "Seven Nation Army"!) and old driving rock (the masterful "Hypnotize"); with Beatles-like psychedelic flourishes and Burt Bacharach tunes thrown in, in equal measure (and volume).





* * *

*1950s Substitutions: Chuck Berry: The Definitive Collection; Buddy Holly: Greatest Hits [1996]; Little Richard: The Very Best Of; Elvis Presley: At Sun; Elvis Presley: ELV1S: 30 #1 HITS.

**1960s Substitutions: The Beach Boys: Sounds Of Summer; The Who: My Generation: The Best Of.

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Last Thoughts On B.B. King, 1925-2015.


B.B. King was the last major blues legend whose life told the story of the 20th century.

He began a poor sharecropper in the south playing acoustic blues until heading north, going electric, & taking the history of the music with him.

Others that did it along side of him were Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, & John Lee Hooker--his only real rivals for the king of the modern electric blues.

But as his name implied, it was B.B. who would be King. He wasn't particularly sexy like Muddy Waters, raw like Howlin' Wolf, or cool like John Lee Hooker, but maybe that was point. He simply took all of those traits & melded them together into something that was greater than the sum of its parts--a platonic ideal of the blues, defined by call-&-response singing & playing, clever lyrics, & a passion that could be felt coming straight through the record.

Perhaps because he was younger, perhaps because he lived longer, perhaps because he was simply more mainstream, B.B. King outstripped the success of his contemporaries & owned the music as its living embodiment, in a way that James Brown did for soul & Johnny Cash did for country. Which is to say that he wasn't necessarily the greatest or most influential performer in his field, he just kept on going through a key period of time & let the genre come to him.

God knows he worked hard for it.

In The New York Times' obituary of King, they report that he played no less than 342 one-night stands in 1956 alone. Think about that for a minute. That means the year that Elvis broke rock music through to the mainstream & Eisenhower won a second a term in a landslide, B.B. King had exactly 24 days off (1956 was a leap-year), on average one every other week.

Less than a decade later, in 1965, when he recorded his signature LP, Live At The Regal, he was already billing himself as "The King Of The Blues" with a straight face. The album, which has since won virtually every accolade an album can, from being inducted to The National Recording Registry to The Grammy Hall Of Fame, bears the title out. B.B. King--& as some argue, the blues itself--is in top form, turning love into loss & sadness into irony.

Hear the way he opens with "Every Day I Have The Blues" but turns it into a badge of honor instead of a lament. Listen to the way he sings about the way in which the title figure in "Sweet Little Angel" spreads her wings & marvel at the simplicity with which he unites the sacred & the secular. & check out the album's most famous moment, in the breakdown of "How Blue Can You Get?" where he sings, "I gave you seven children & now you want to give them back!" & the way the audience responds; the only thing that matches it in American music are James Brown drawing out "Lost Someone" on his Live At The Apollo & Johnny Cash singing about how he shot a man "just to watch him die" in "Folsom Prison Blues" on Live At Folsom Prison.

It is on one hand a public performance, but on the other a private confession. Now, maybe James Brown did lose someone & Johnny Cash at some point felt like shooting a man just to watch him die, but B.B. King, who by his own account fathered some 15 children by 15 different women, might have actually felt at some point like giving them back. It is perhaps this kernel of truth that gives the performance its wrenching bite, & it is what we respond to a half-century after its release.

* * *

Also unlike James Brown & Johnny Cash, I was fortunate enough to see B.B. King play live.

It was 1996 in Austin, Texas, soon after he released his autobiography Blues All Around Me. I read the first part of the book out of obligation of the concert coming up--I always found that co-author David Ritz, who did such a great job on the Ray Charles & Marvin Gaye autobiographies, did a bit of an overwrite on his part when trying to capture King's voice--& listened to Live At Regal & the few other B.B. King recordings I had around. When it came to the classic blues, I was always more interested in the old, scratchy Robert Johnson & Charley Patton stuff; when it came to the electric blues Howlin' Wolf was my man.

All of which is to say that B.B. King was far from my favorite artists.

But his concert was one of the best I've ever seen.

I've seen lots of great shows--from the likes of Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney, & Eric Clapton on down through Elliott Smith, The Pixies, & Guided By Voices--but B.B. King had a power that could only be compared to Chuck Berry & Jerry Lee Lewis. There's something about that pre-television generation who were doing it before rock was born & continued doing it once it had splintered into a million pieces, that gave them a power that not even the finest Bob Dylan concert could begin touch. I suspect the same would've been true had I seen James Brown or Johnny Cash; I know the same would've been true had I seen Elvis.

But B.B. King. In some ways, his concert was the best because, compared to Chuck Berry & Jerry Lee Lewis, he was the biggest. He came out in a silver-sequined jacket suit that made him look like a disco ball, beaming as he opened with "Every Day I Have The Blues." He had Lucille, his signature black Gibson guitar, & made his weird "lemon" faces as he jammed, over-fluttering his fingers with each touch of vibrato so that his hand looked like a mad butterfly.

He didn't so much sing & play as much as he did hold court. The audience was enraptured from the first moment he stepped on stage & the band--complete with a rhythm section & horn section--followed his every move, knowing when to turn things up for a rocker & shift it back down for a ballad or solo.

It is the only concert I had ever seen where the music literally did not stop--the backing musicians simply keep the 12-bar blues going quietly while he spoke between the songs. Some people don't like the blues--& in turn, B.B. King--because they think every song sounds the same. B.B. King's concert turned this notion on its head, literally playing the entire set like it was a single song. In so doing, he both proved this criticism of blues music while pulling the rug out from under it, showing how so many different moods & textures could emerge from the same primordial blues swamp.

* * *

As I mentioned earlier, I saw B.B. King in the mid-'90s, when MTV's Unplugged show had redefined music was performed--as exemplified by artists as diverse as Eric Clapton & Nirvana. Everyone who was a serious artist or band seemed to want to make an "unplugged" album--many of whom did so on the official program (Rod Stewart & Tony Bennett) & many others who did so on their own (think The Rolling Stones' Stripped, if you can remember that).

B.B. King did a similar thing at the middle of his show. At one point, the horns & extraneous musicians strutted off to the sides, while a core blues combo remained, with B.B. King doing what Clapton & Kurt Cobain did on MTV: He sat in a chair. King played a more intimate, down-home blues that sounded closer to the small bands that Muddy Waters first recorded with in Chicago than his own flashy stage show. It was all so well choreographed & performed, it made me almost forget that he was probably doing this at least in part to mask his diabetes had made him too weak to stand for an entire performance. But I digress.

At any rate, this smaller, more focused blues playing was the blues that I liked to hear, with less going on & more focus on the lyrics and the interaction between the instruments. It wasn't an "Unplugged" show per se--B.B. still held onto his electric Lucille--but it had all the trappings of one. After all, Elvis's "sit-down" show of his "'68 Comeback Special," which inspired MTV Unplugged in the first place, featured the King (this time of rock) playing an electric Gibson.

With the mood & the playing more down-home, B.B. King spun some good stories. Turns out he is as good of a storyteller as he is a performer (as if the two could be separated) & with his actual hard life--which is to say, the fact that he had grown up poor on a sharecropping farm--it made everything feel more real, earned, & special.

At one point, he talked about the fish-fry parties that people threw to make rent money, how everyone would come out with bootleg liquor, how the blues combos would play for hours on end, how the people would dance and dance, how this late-night celebrations were such a welcome escape from their early morning farm work; "& then as the night kept wearing on," B.B. King said, "Until the time that the sun was coming up for a new work day, & we'd all say--"

THE THRILL IS GONE!

With those words, the stage exploded with excitement as the horn players & extra musicians reappeared on cue, & B.B. King stood up from the chair to perform with his full band once again. Before anyone could catch their breath, B.B. King was singing "The Thrill Is Gone," his signature biggest hit & the first song most people know him by.

For someone whose music was so timeless, "The Thrill Is Gone" sounds very much like the time in which it was recorded, in a late-'60s haze where rock had conquered blues & funk was threatening to conquer rock. It is a slow blues, with keyboard & strings, but is such a good performance--such a good idea--that it cuts through its surroundings.

The thrill is gone, the thrill has gone away
The thrill has gone, baby, he thrill has gone away
You know you done me wrong baby
& you'll be sorry someday

What more has the blues ever tried to say? There is simplicity to this song, a logic that maintains its strength. Taken altogether, it is little wonder that this is the quintessential blues song of the quintessential blues performer.

Even as I watched B.B. King live singing this in a manner that was entirely rehearsed, I knew I was experiencing something very special--& very real. For, despite what B.B. King was singing to me at that moment, the thrill was here.


* * *

It's hard to believe that B.B. King is gone because he's always been here, a cultural institution, an epoch upon himself.

He cut records for Sam Phillips at Sun Records three years before Elvis Presley walked through the door.

He had a #1 R&B single, "3 O'Clock Blues," in February 1952, before contemporaries like Fats Domino, Ray Charles, Little Richard, & James Brown had done the same.

He would have an additional 3 #1 R&B records--"You Know I Love You," "Please Love Me," & "You Upset Me Baby"--all before Bill Haley & His Comets scored rock's first #1 pop hit, "Rock Around The Clock."

He kept playing one-night stands through Elvis, through Beatlemania, through Dylan plugging in, & Jimi Hendrix setting his guitar on fire; if the resulting document of this period, 1965's Live At Regal, is any indication, on a good night he could at the very least meet any of these artists on his own terms.

He played Bill Graham's Fillmore West in 1968 to a full house of long-haired white hippies, & found his music embraced by a new audience.

He released his signature hit, "The Thrill Is Gone," late in 1969, capping rock's finest year that included Elvis's From Elvis In Memphis, The Beatles' Abbey Road, & The Rolling Stones's Let It Bleed--not to mention Hendrix at Woodstock, Bob Dylan at The Isle Of Wight, & The Stones at Altamont. It would become his biggest pop hit (#15 on the pop charts & #3 on the R&B charts) & score him his first Grammy Award (for 1971's Best Male R&B Vocal Performance). When David Cassidy was trying to establish his cred in the early '70s, he cited "The Thrill Is Gone" as his favorite song.

In 1977, he straddled both sides of the cultural spectrum by appearing as himself on an episode of Sandford & Son, & later receiving an honorary doctorate of music from Yale University.

In 1980, he was among the first 20 inductees into the Blues Hall Of Fame, along with the likes of Charley Patton, Son House, Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Willie Dixon, & John Lee Hooker.

In 1987, he was among the second set of inductees into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame, along with the likes of Muddy Waters, Big Joe Turner, Bo Diddley, Aretha Franklin, & Marvin Gaye.

That same year he would receive a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award, making him the first blues musician to receive the honor. Other recipients that year included Billie Holiday & Hank Williams.

The following year, he recorded the hit "When Love Comes To Town" with U2 at Sun Records for their album Rattle & Hum; it was his first single to make the US rock charts (#2) & the UK pop charts (#6).

In 1990, he received The National Medal Of The Arts from President George H.W. Bush; in 2006, he received The Presidential Medal Of Freedom from President George W. Bush.

& in 2012, he was among the performers at "In Performance At The White House: Red White & Blues" where he jammed on "Sweet Home Chicago" with President Barack Obama.


* * *

I am loathe to close.

There was still so much I wanted to say--how B.B. King's first Top 40 hit, "Rock Me Baby," occurred in 1964 & would be covered by Otis Redding & Jimi Hendrix by the decade's end; how he sang about his brother going to Korea in 1960's "Sweet Sixteen" & would later change the line to be about coming back from Vietnam the following decade; how over time his records became more commercial & pop-oriented, with strings providing call-&-response lines along with his guitar; how in a recording from 1979, he tells the Queen Of England to never look down.

How some of his best song titles played like hard-earned truths of sage advice: "Paying The Cost To Be The Boss." "Never Make A Move Too Soon." "Help The Poor."

How in 1971, he sang what is perhaps the greatest blues lyric of them all:

Nobody loves me but my mother--
& she could be jivin' too.

The King is dead. Long live the King.

Sunday, May 3, 2015

A Rock Canon.



 
After compiling my article about (& recommendations for) The Grammy Hall Of Fame, I thought back to compiling rock lists, in a similar way I had for The 501 Greatest Albums Of All-Time list I compiled about a year ago.

But whereas my 501 list was a ranked list, I began to wonder what would happen if I included unranked lists as well, such as the rock entries in The Grammy Hall Of Fame. I wondered what kind of rock canon these albums might form, if I surveyed a fair number of lists to try to make a Top 100 collection.


I ended up creating an inventory from these 10 album lists:

% = Grammy Hall Of Fame (Material Must Be At Least 25 Years Old)
| = Acclaimed Music, 1-200 (Current)
^ = Digital Dream Door, 1-200 (Current)
$ = Bill Shapiro: A Good Guide To CDs (1991)


As I did so, I set a few guidelines:
  • Only rock would be included. Otherwise, albums like Miles Davis' Kind Of Blue, John Coltrane's A Love Supreme, & Frank Sinatra's In The Wee Small Hours would have made this list--all excellent albums, but outside of the scope of the rock canon, which is what I was trying to define.
  • No more than 200 entries to a list would be included. Thus, in a list like Rolling Stone list of 500 (or Acclaimed Music's list of 3000), only the top 200 were used. This was ultimately about content, not ranking.
  • I didn't pool greatest hits albums. I was tempted to at first (as I suspect Rolling Stone must have done in their original 500 list, but I digress), I decided against it. Thus, where Elvis's original Sun Sessions LP appears on the list the below, it corresponds to that exact original LP, not the ones that have since usurped it.
After compiling all 10 lists, I had over 500 individual rock albums. I realized that the number of albums that appeared 5 or more times on the lists was 97, putting me within reaching point of my target canon number of 100.


With over a dozen of worthy albums making 4 lists--including Here's Little Richard, Meet The Beatles!, Janis Joplin's Pearl, The Harder They Come Soundtrack, Neil Young's Harvest, Bob Marley's Catch A Fire, Run-D.M.C.'s Raising Hell, Madonna's Like A Prayer, Phil Spector's Back To Mono boxed set, & The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill (each of which are stone-cold classics in my book)--I decided to go a different route to fill in the final 3 spots in an effort to keep things canonical.

Consulting Rolling Stone's original 2004 list of The Immortals: The 100 Greatest Artists Of All-Time, I chose the 3 highest entries who each did not have an album to make 5 lists or more. They were: Little Richard (#8), Buddy Holly (#13), & Sam Cooke (#16). I chose the album for each that had made the most number of lists. This way I could give a jump to a few major legends whose signature work fell out of the scope of the classic album-making era.



With the 100 albums selected, I could take a step back & look at what had come together.

7 albums appeared on all 10 lists. They were:
  • The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
  • The Beatles: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
  • The Beatles ["The White Album"]
  • Bob Dylan: Highway 61 Revisited
  • Paul Simon: Graceland
  • Bruce Springsteen: Born To Run
  • U2: The Joshua Tree 
& of these albums, no Revolver, no Blonde On Blonde, & NOTHING by The Rolling Stones! Yet Graceland makes the cut...

So I checked out the 15 albums that appeared on 9 out of 10 lists. They were:
  • The Beatles: Rubber Soul
  • The Beatles: Abbey Road
  • Bob Dylan: Blonde On Blonde
  • Bob Dylan: Blood On The Tracks
  • Marvin Gaye: What's Going On
  • Jimi Hendrix: Are You Experienced
  • Jimi Hendrix: Electric Ladyland
  • Pink Floyd: The Dark Side Of The Moon
  • Prince: Purple Rain
  • The Rolling Stones: Beggars Banquet
  • The Rolling Stones: Sticky Fingers
  • The Rolling Stones: Exile On Main St.
  • The Sex Pistols: Never Mind The Bollocks
  • The Velvet Underground & Nico
  • The Who: Who's Next
Compiled with the 7 above, you start to get a more classic sense of the canon. Yet still no Revolver! Also oddly M.I.A.: The Clash's London Calling, The Stones' Let It Bleed, & Nirvana's Nevermind.


Another 20 or so albums appeared on 8 charts, which seemed worthy enough to denote. Thus, all items that appear on 8 or more charts are bolded in the list below. (& the 3 "Immortals" who have less than 5 album hits are italicized.) Even this yielded some surprises, as Elvis Costello's My Aim Is True made this cut, while nothing by The Band, Bob Marley, or Sly & The Family Stone did.

Regardless, the list did ultimately confirm some of my long-held beliefs: Aretha Franklin's I Never Loved A Man The Way I Loved You trumps her often-slightly-more-celebrated Lady Soul, David Bowie's Rise & Fall Of Ziggy Stardust trumps his currently-hipper Hunky Dory, & Disraeli Gears is the best album Cream ever put together.

But this list is also a testament to those who had several near-great albums, or a lack of critical consensus as has formed around the likes of The Byrds' Sweetheart Of The Rodeo, Elvis Costello's My Aim Is True or Simon & Garfunkel's Bridge Over Troubled Water. I am thinking specifically of bands like Creedence Clearwater Revival, who had several albums appear on several lists, but none of which pulled ahead enough to make the final 100. (Cosmo's Factory came the closest, with 3 hits.) It's almost as though M.I.A. artists like Janis Joplin, The Grateful Dead, & The Kinks have been punished for making consistently good albums.


But I digress.

You came here for the list, so here it is.


1. AC/DC: Back In Black *+@%|^&
2. The Allman Brothers Band: At Fillmore East *#+%|^&!
3. The Band: Music From Big Pink *%^&$!
4. The Band *#@%|^&
5. The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds *#+@%|^&$!
6. The Beastie Boys: Paul's Boutique *#+@|^
7. The Beatles: Rubber Soul *#+@%|^&$
8. The Beatles: Revolver *+@%|^&!
9. The Beatles: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band *#+@%|^&$!
10. The Beatles ["The White Album"] *#+@%|^&$!
11. The Beatles: Abbey Road *#+@%|^&$
12. Chuck Berry: The Great Twenty-Eight *#@$!
13. Black Sabbath: Paranoid *#@|^
14. David Bowie: Hunky Dory *#+@|&
15. David Bowie: The Rise & Fall Of Ziggy Stardust *+@%^|&!
16. James Brown: Live At The Apollo *@%|^&$
17. The Byrds: Sweetheart Of The Rodeo *%|^$
18. Ray Charles: Modern Sounds In Country & Western *#+@%^$
19. The Clash *#|^$!
20. The Clash: London Calling *#+@%|^&
21. Sam Cooke: Portrait Of A Legend *@
22. Elvis Costello: My Aim Is True *#+%|^$!
23. Cream: Disraeli Gears *+%|^
24. Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young: Deja Vu*#+%|^!
25. Derek & The Dominoes: Layla & Other Assorted Love Songs *#+%|^!
26. The Doors *#+%|^&!
27. Dr. Dre: The Chronic *#@|^
28. Bob Dylan: Bringing It All Back Home *#+%|^&$
29. Bob Dylan: Highway 61 Revisited *#+@%|^&$!
30. Bob Dylan: Blonde On Blonde *#+@%|^&$
31. Bob Dylan: Blood On The Tracks *#+%|^&$!
32. The Eagles: Hotel California *#+@%|^
33. Fleetwood Mac: Rumours *#+@%|^&
34. Aretha Franklin: I Never Loved A Man The Way I Loved You *#+@%|^&
35. Aretha Franklin: Lady Soul *#+@|^&
36. Marvin Gaye: What's Going On *#+@%|^&$
37. Guns N' Roses: Appetite For Destruction *#+|^&
38. Jimi Hendrix: Are You Experienced *#+@%|^&$
39. Jimi Hendrix: Axis: As Bold As Love *#+%|^&
40. Jimi Hendrix: Electric Ladyland *#+@%|^&$
41. Buddy Holly: 20 Golden Greats *#
42. Michael Jackson: Off The Wall *#+%|^&
43. Michael Jackson: Thriller *#+@%|^&
44. Jefferson Airplane: Surrealistic Pillow *#%|^!
45. Elton John: Goodbye Yellow Brick Road *@%|^&!
46.Carole King: Tapestry *#+@%|^&
47. Led Zeppelin [I] *+%|^&!
48. Led Zeppelin II *#+|^&
49. Led Zeppelin [IV] *#@%|^&!
50. Led Zeppelin: Physical Graffiti *+|^&
51. John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band *#@|^&$!
52. Little Richard: Here's Little Richard! *@%^
53. Love: Forever Changes *%|^&
54. Bob Marley: Exodus *+%|^&
55. Curtis Mayfield: Super Fly *+%|^&
56. Joni Mitchell: Blue *#+@%|^&
57. Joni Mitchell: Court & Spark *%|^$!
58. Van Morrison: Astral Weeks *#+@%|^&
59. Van Morrison: Moondance *#+@%|^&
60. Nirvana: Nevermind *#+@|^&! 
61. N.W.A.: Straight Outta Compton *#+@|^
62. Pearl Jam: Ten #+|^&
63. Pink Floyd: The Dark Side Of The Moon *#+%|^&$!
64. Pink Floyd: The Wall *%|^&
65. Elvis Presley: The Sun Sessions *+&$!
66. Elvis Presley *|^&$!
67. Prince: 1999 *+%|^&$
68. Prince: Purple Rain *#+@%|^&$
69. Prince: Sign 'O' The Times *#+@|^&
70. Public Enemy: It Takes A Nation Of Millions *#+@|^&
71. Radiohead: OK Computer *+@|^&!
72. The Ramones *#+@%|^&
73. Otis Redding: Otis Blue: Otis Redding Sings Soul *+@|^&
74. R.E.M.: Murmur *#+|^
75. The Rolling Stones: Beggars Banquet *#+%|^&$!
76. The Rolling Stones: Let It Bleed *#+%|^&!
77. The Rolling Stones: Sticky Fingers *#+@%|^&!
78. The Rolling Stones: Exile On Main Street *#+@%|^&$
79. The Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack *#+%|^&
80. The Sex Pistols: Never Mind The Bollocks *#+@%|^&$
81. Paul Simon: Graceland *#+@%|^&$!
82. Simon & Garfunkel: Bridge Over Troubled Water *+@|^&
83. Sly & The Family Stone: Stand! *+@%|^&
84. Sly & The Family Stone: There's A Riot Goin' On! *#%|^$
85. Patti Smith: Horses *#+@|^&
86. Dusty Springfield: Dusty In Memphis *#+%|
87. Bruce Springsteen: Born To Run *#+@%|^&$!
88. Bruce Springsteen: Born In The U.S.A. *#%|^&$
89. The Stone Roses #@|^&
90. Talking Heads: Remain In Light *#+|^$
91. James Taylor: Sweet Baby James *#+%^
92. U2: The Joshua Tree *#+@%|^&$!
93. U2: Achtung Baby *#+@|^&
94. The Velvet Underground & Nico *#+@%|^&$
95. The Who: Tommy *#+%|^&!
96. The Who: Who's Next *#+@%|^&$
97. Stevie Wonder: Talking Book *#@%|^!
98. Stevie Wonder: Innervisions *#+%|^&$
99. Steve Wonder: Songs In The Key Of Life *+@%|^&
100. Neil Young: After The Gold Rush *#@|^&