it's more fun to have bad taste!

various media journalings from a 25y/o idiot with too much time to burn project index.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #480, Miranda Lambert - The Weight of These Wings

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 6)

From Rolling Stone:

The Nashville superstar sounded especially free and artistically uninhibited after her divorce from Blake Shelton, and she channeled it all into this expansive, mind-clearing two-CD set, an ambitious grab bag of deep breakup tunes (“Use My Heart,” “Tin Man”), Radiohead-y alt-rock moodiness (“Vice”), eye-rolling, scuz-guitar glam (“Pink Sunglasses”), and tender reflections on the bonds and weights of messy commitment (“Getaway Car”). It’s the sound of bad history falling away in the cracked rearview and nothing but wide-open road ahead.

I see country-pop, I preemptively judge country-pop. It’s not a bad way to be. Thing is, though, it took about 10 seconds to realize that this wasn’t going to be “like that”, at least not entirely.

This definitely hits a lot of the nauseating points typical to the arena-minded country of the 2010s, but there are some seriously incredible and experimental moments nested within this. My “standout track” listings for some really interesting material.

That said, this was grueling in a lot of respects. It’s a double album, so, very, very long, and its rewarding moments comprise very little of it. I was happy to hear some experimental country, and while the lyrics are of a higher caliber than usual, that’s not really enough to support the weaknesses. Giving respect where it’s due, but ultimately nothing to write home about.

Re-listen?: No Was this on the 2012 list?: No Should it be here?: Probably not tbh Year: 2016 Standout Track(s): Runnin’ Just In Case, Vice Rating: 3/5 - Mostly exactly what you’d expect, but with some impressive moments sprinkled between.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #481, Belle and Sebastian - If You’re Feeling Sinister

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 6)

From Rolling Stone:

Being a self-pitying shut-in has never sounded better than it does on the Scottish twee icons’ breakthrough. The chamber-folk arrangements are second to none — like a cup of tea brewed for you by a hopeless crush with a really good record collection — but don’t sleep on Stuart Murdoch’s subtly sardonic lyrics on “The Stars of Track and Field” and “Seeing Other People,” which give these wistful-sounding songs a bite that sets them apart from most imitators.

I had some pretty high hopes about this one upon reading of its acclaim and background, but that may have worked to my detriment in a few respects. My initial impression of this is it’s very competent folk pop, mixed with some additional instrumentation aside from what you’d expect by default.

It definitely has a richness to it and I enjoyed the lyrical sarcasm, but the vocals were somewhat irritating to me and I often found myself bored with it. Production was a little shoddy at times, as independent music sometimes suffers from.

This is definitely one of those records that probably requires a second listen. However, I’m trying to burn through 500 albums at the moment, so I don’t really have the time. I wouldn’t be resistant to revisiting it, and while I did find it largely enjoyable, I’m not entirely sold on it.

Re-listen?: No Was this on the 2012 list?: No Should it have been?: I’m gonna go with yes. Year: 1996 Standout Track(s): The Stars of Track and Field, If You’re Feeling Sinister Rating: 3.5/5 - I’ll let you know for certain if I listen to this one again.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #482, The Pharcyde - Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 5)

From Rolling Stone:

These high school friends from L.A. were a little like a West Coast answer to De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest, offering their own spin on alternative hip-hop in the Nineties and showing there was something going on in Southern California beyond G-funk. They rapped about innocent topics, like having a crush on a teacher in “Passin’ Me By,” which was a small hit, but also about dating a cute girl who turns out “to be a John Doe” and run-ins with the cops (the Public Enemy-homage “Officer”). It all came out as bright and refreshing as sorbet.

The inclusion of “innocent” in this description is a little bit, given the actual lyric, and more superficially so, the album art. Weird way to introduce it. Whatever.

Moving ahead, this has a really, really unusual sound to it. Funk, soul, jazz, and psychedelic influences are the most obvious in the instrumentation.

The defining characteristic of this record is its originality, easily. It’s deeply stylish, freewheeling, inventive, humorous, and just plain fun. “Cartoonish” comes to mind, but not in an insulting sense. There’s a comic strip sort of feel to it. Certainly not the most accessible or commercial album, but it’s enjoyable. “Ya Mama” is just an entire track of jokes. You’d have to be a complete snob to find such a thing objectionable.

While the focal point of the record is the improvisational class clown humor that’s present on many of the singles and skits, it’s not entirely reliant on that for its effectiveness. “Officer” may only be half-serious, but it’s valid commentary of driving while black regardless. “Passin’ Me By” and “Otha Fish” artfully express romantic doubt and insecurity, and the ten-minute stretch they occupy on the record 

The philosophy of living through rough things and being able to laugh about them serves as a stark contrast from the West Coast gangster rap of the time, but it has just as much a place in the canon as anything else. Their contemporaries recognized this, and it’s nice to see Rolling Stone do the same thing.

Re-listen?: Nope Was this on the 2012 list?: No Should it have been?: Definitely! Year: 1992 Standout Track(s): Soul Flower, Officer, Ya Mama, Passin’ Me By, Otha Fish Rating: 4/5 - Much more than novelty rap.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #483, Muddy Waters - The Anthology

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 4)

From Rolling Stone:

Muddy Waters started out playing acoustic Delta blues in Mississippi, but when he moved to Chicago in 1943, he needed an electric guitar to be heard over the tumult of South Side clubs. The sound he developed was the foundation of Chicago blues — and rock & roll; the thick, bleeding tones of his slide work anticipated rock-guitar distortion by nearly two decades. The 50 cuts on these two CDs run from guitar-and-stand-up-bass duets to full-band romps — and they still just scratch the surface of Waters’ legacy.

This is another one of the list entries that plummeted significantly in the 2020 rewrite of the list, which is weird. Even myself, not too big on blues and roots, definitely not big on hours-long anthologies, ranked this at 255.

The major driving force behind the new list seemed to be inclusion, not so much of genres other than rock, but it’s weird for this to fall as low as has. Canons change, sure, but so long as rock is part of that canon, black blues artists like Waters, who were significant in shaping it, still should be acknowledged.

So all that said, this is sort of a grueling listen due to its length and the roughness of these early recordings, but it lays the framework for the music that follows it. The guitar stylings of “Country Boy” and “She Moves Me” are nothing shy of prophetic, and “Got My Mojo Working” is a great classic inclusion. “Influence” itself is something of an understatement. Lots of music on here went on to be covered by high profile artists – Etta James and Foghat covered “I Just Want To Make Love To You”, Led Zeppelin did a version of “You Shook Me” on their debut, Van Morrison covered “Baby Please Don’t Go” when he was still singing for Them, and so did AC/DC and Aerosmith. Bo Diddley modified the riff in “(I’m Your) Hoochie Coochie Man” for his “I’m a Man”. His fingerprints are everywhere.

It’s not the type of thing I would go out of my way to play, but I still would absolutely recommend it as essential listening.

Re-listen?: Yes Was this on the 2012 list?: Yes, in spot 38 My Rank: 255 (3.5/5 - Anthologies aren’t fun) Year: 2001 Standout Track(s): Country Boy, She Moves Me, Got My Mojo Working, You Shook Me New Rating: 3.5/5 - He’s still an important artist but I also still hate anthologies. Stubborn mule energy on my behalf.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #484, Lady Gaga - Born This Way

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 3)

From Rolling Stone:

“Over-the-top” isn’t an insult in Gaga’s world; it’s a statement of purpose. Her second album is a work of blessed bombast, all arena-size sonics and Springsteenian romanticism, complete with a Clarence Clemons sax solo. There’s a thumping, half-in-Spanish song that proposes marriage to “a girl in east L.A.” (“Americano”), a synth-pop jam that includes a come-on on to John F. Kennedy (“Government Hooker”), and a touching ballad about a guy from Nebraska (“You and I”). Fittingly, the glam-slam title track became an LGBTQ anthem.

Oh HELL yes.

This was such a definitive “growing up in the 2010s” album and I love it. It’s over the top, all the way to album art, but if there’s one thing Gaga can do well, it’s indulging in excess while still keeping a sense of honesty intact. Songs like “Hair” and “Yoü and I”, despite their bombast, are still vulnerable cuts. The whole record is pure theater. “Don’t just pay homage to Springsteen, get Clarence Clemons on here with a sax solo” functions a her creative philosophy.

I want to shy away from plugging a Madonna mention in here, because that’s tired. Totally understandable, especially given the edgy Christian imagery and Euro beats, but it’s basically that sort of ambitious arena pop, recontextualized for a new generation.

The only complaint I have about this album, which is unfortunately a pretty big one, is how uneven it is. There are definitely a few things that could have been (and probably should have been) from the final track list. Even though it’s deliberately maximalist, the overstuffed track list is very difficult to rationalize. It’s too much for the sake of there just being more, and it unfortunately undercuts the merit of the actually great material on it.

It’s a bad habit that Gaga never really moved away from, but that’s really the only thing preventing her work from sounding truly complete. So I’m just going to listen to the songs I like and pretend “Highway Unicorn” never happened. Close enough.

Re-listen?: Yes, but not for an album project Was this on the 2012 list?: No Should it have been?: A THOUSAND TIMES YES Year: 2011 Standout Track(s): Government Hooker, Judas, Sheiße, Bloody Mary, Electric Chapel, Heavy Metal Lover, Yoü and I, The Edge of Glory Rating: 4/5 - Too much in most of the right ways.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #485, Richard and Linda Thompson - I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 4)

From Rolling Stone:

With Fairport Convention, Richard Thompson was one of the first prominent Sixties folk rockers to look to his native England’s traditions for inspiration. After leaving Fairport, he joined with his wife, Linda Thompson to make stellar albums in the Seventies. Richard played guitar like a Sufi-mystic Neil Young; Linda had the voice of a Celtic Emmylou Harris. Bright Lights is their devastating masterwork of folk-rock dread. Radiohead even picked up some guitar tricks from “The Calvary Cross.”

I listened to this one and I liked it initially. Still do. 

This album is basically a marriage of British folk and American country, very stark and beautiful. Oftentimes somber, poetic lyrics, and even though I draw a comparison to country, it doesn’t fall into the rut of “I’ve heard this song in a different way hundreds of times before”. Even the titular track, the closest of its offerings to a country trope, isn’t written or composed like one.

This record has a lot of character, and you’d be hard pressed to find something similar. It’s definitely one of the high water marks for folk rock, even if its commercial performance was nothing to write home about

Re-listen?: Yes Was this on the 2012 list?: Yes, in spot 471 My Rank: 115 (4/5 - All the appreciation for ambience.) Year: 1974 Standout Track(s): The Cavalry Cross, Withered and Died, Down Where the Drunkards Roll, The End of the Rainbow, The Great Valerio New Rating: 4/5 - Still gold.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #486, John Mayer - Continuum

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 4)

From Rolling Stone:

After establishing himself as a post-Dave Matthews heartthrob, John Mayer grew into his soul and blues ambitions for a subtly crafted album aided by ace musicians like guitarists Ben Harper and Charlie Hunter, drummer-producer Steve Jordan, and jazz trumpeter Roy Hargrove — from the smooth Hi Records-tinged soul of “Vultures” to “Waiting for the World to Change,” a deceptively knowing and self-aware take on generational apathy.

Man, okay. I know this list needed some updating, and part of me is happy they did, but this is one of the things that definitely has no business being added. And above the Stooges? Are you kidding?

I remember reading a Justin Bieber album review a couple of years ago that slammed both him and Mayer for portraying themselves as sensitive bleeding-heart types, and then using that softboy posturing (great term!) to sleep with groupies. It comes off as a presumptuous take, sure, but that’s the functional purpose of this sort adult contemporary pop rock junk. Mayer actually is a great guitarist, so I’m not sure why else he’d waste his energy on stuff like this unless as a way to market himself as being a certain type of person.

The memo about him actually being a Not Great guy got out, so it matters none these days. I just think it’s irritating that the album’s substantial and music centerpiece is an anthem for lazy liberalism. Listening to this album immediately after something very anti-authoritarian, charged, and political material makes Mayer even less palatable than he already was.

And the presence of a mostly acoustic Jimi Hendrix cover is just plain weird. I was going to say “if this list doesn’t have a trap cover of Hey Jude, I’m going to shit bricks.” to illustrate how laughable this is. But then I realized that would probably be at least, like, amusing to listen to instead of just bizarre and pathetic.

Re-listen?: No Was this on the 2012 list?: No, because why the hell would it be? Should it have been?:  Hell no Year: 2006 Standout Track(s): Waiting on the World to Change Rating: 2.5/5 - White guy whines *guitar solo*

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #487, Black Flag -Damaged

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 4)

From Rolling Stone:

MCA refused to release this album, denouncing it as “immoral” and “anti-parent.” High praise, but Black Flag lived up to it, defining L.A. hardcore punk with Greg Ginn’s violent guitar and the pissed-off scream of Henry Rollins, especially on “TV Party” and “Rise Above,” which came with the timeless smash-the-glass salvo “We are tired of your abuse/Try to stop is but it’s no use.” Punks still listen to Damaged, and parents still hate it.

So, yeah, as stated in my previous review, in the year since I wrapped my first Rolling Stone 500 listen, I’ve listened to a lot more punk music and I find it a lot more agreeable than I did after not really listening for several years.

And I’m going to throw this out there now, while I’m thinking of it: this new version of the list is a lot harsher to punk. Off the top of my head, The Stooges dropped 303 spaces, this record dropped 147, one of the X offerings was omitted entirely. Right when I start to appreciate punk, Rolling Stone seems mostly intent on discarding it. How sad.

My first listen, I wasn’t too fond of how on-the-nose this record was. But I’ve really come around to this essential piece of hardcore punk. It made space for heavier, biting noise in within the genre, and listening to it is more than hearing a documentation of incendiary rage, it’s witnessing the codification of a new type of musical art.

Rollins has a really good tonal range. It’s hard to listen to “Rise Above” without wanting to get off your ass and do something. It’s hard to listen to “TV Party” without giggling. It’s hard to listen to “Life of Pain” without feeling pensive and a little depressed. The anger here jumps out above all else, but it’s all different iterations of anger – at authority, misuse of power, at the people around you destroying themselves. It’s all relevant, and frankly, it’s all worth yelling about.

And reflecting on it, hearing Rollins sing “I don’t even care about self-destruction anymore” at the album’s conclusion is more power than otherwise. Hey, me neither, buddy. It really is so useless.

Re-listen?: Yes Was this on the 2012 list?: Yes, in spot 340 My Rank: 383 (3/5 - Found it somewhat annoying) Year: 1981 Standout Track(s): Rise Above, Six Pack, TV Party, Life of Pain, Damaged I New Rating: 4/5 - Harsh but respectable

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #488, The Stooges - The Stooges

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 4)

From Rolling Stone:

Fueled by “a little marijuana and a lotta alienation,” Michigan’s Stooges gave the lie to hippie idealism, playing with a savagery that unsettled even the most blasé clubgoers. Ex-Velvet Underground member John Cale produced a primitive debut wherein, amid Ron Asheton’s wah-wah blurts, Iggy Stooge (né James Osterberg) snarled seminal punk classics such as “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” “No Fun,” and “1969,” bedrock examples of the weaponized boredom that would become a de rigueur punk posture.

So, I did like this the first time I listened to it, but I’ve had a lot more exposure to it in the past year, courtesy of dating someone who was obsessed with this band after my initial 500 album project wrapped – he has “No Fun” tattooed on him to prove it. I was never the type to feign interests to impress people, but where it concerns things I already know I enjoy... Well. Catch me listening to it a little more than I usually would.

This is definitely an album that grew on me a lot, and I love that it doesn’t categorize neatly. It’s not quite garage rock, but it has the same type of energy, aggression, and cockiness in its delivery. It’s not quite heavy metal, but it’s just as heavy. It’s not quite psychedelic rock, but it’s similarly mind-melting. It’s not quite punk, because punk didn’t really exist yet, but it’s just as brash and degenerate.

Though it’s arguably the first punk record, it still has a very independent sound and identity from anything else that followed it, from the Stooges themselves or otherwise. It simultaneously sounds out of its time and ahead of its time. 

Honestly, the only thing weak about it is John Cale. Otherwise, it’s perfect.

Re-listen?: Yes Was this on the 2012 list?: Yes, in spot 185 My Rank: 169 (4/5 - A good first impression) Year: 1969 Standout Track(s): I Wanna Be Your Dog, We Will Fall, No Fun, Ann New Rating: 4.5/5 - Varied, experimental, unique, and powerful. Hell yeah.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #489, Phil Spector - Back to Mono (1958-1969)

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 3)

From Rolling Stone:

When the Righteous Brothers’ Bobby Hatfield first heard “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’,” with partner Bill Medley’s extended solo, he asked, “But what do I do while he’s singing the whole first verse?” Producer Phil Spector replied, “You can go directly to the bank!” Spector built his Wall of Sound out of hand claps, massive overdubs, and orchestras of percussion. This box has hits such as the Ronettes’ “Be My Baby” and the Crystals’ “Da Doo Ron Ron,” which Spector called “little symphonies for the kids.”

Did I make my feelings about Phil Spector clear yet? Alright

I wrote a very long and detailed case against the inclusion of this album on the 2012 list when I listened to this compilation early last year, but I’m going to reiterate some of my main points here:

Spector is one of the only people who is lionized in popular music in as a producer and a producer alone, to the point where his name is held in higher regard than many of the black, female artists he worked with

Spector also produced Lennon’s “Imagine” album, but crediting that work to him in its entirety is self-evidently absurd, as it should be.

Spector is the only person who is on this list when he didn’t actually sing or play anything, he was always strictly a writer and producer.

Spector is currently in prison for murdering a woman

The one thing I will say about the new inclusion of this album is that it shot down 424 spaces, so I believe there is some acknowledgment here as to the absurdity of how much Spector is credited for work that he largely isn’t responsible for. Either way, it’s disheartening to see this placed over the Ronettes, especially when the girl group boxset that was previously included no longer has any standing on the list, since it’s important context of how he didn’t actually invent the wall of sound.

My heart aches over the fact that Spector’s fingerprints are all over doo-wop and bubblegum pop that I’ve loved since my youth. It aches even more that this material is credited more to him than it is the people actually responsible for the splendor of this music. I love to see it acknowledged, but it won’t ever be comfortable to see it under his name over the names of who it belongs to.

Re-listen?: Yes Was this on the 2012 list?: Yes, in spot 65 My Rank: 355 (3/5 - I wanted to rank it as “irredeemable” because it’s Phil Spector but I figured that’d be too unfair to the artists.) Year: 1991 Standout Track(s): Pretty Little Angel Eyes, Be My Baby, Baby, I Love You, Walking in the Rain, You’ve Lost That Loving Feelin’, Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) New Rating: 3/5 - Not gonna lie, I’m still just as angry about this.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #490, Linda Ronstadt -Heart Like a Wheel

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 2)

From Rolling Stone:

Linda Ronstadt completed her transition from California hippie-folk darling to soft-rock queen on her chart-topping fifth album, covering Hank Williams, Buddy Holly, Little Feat, and Kate and Anna McGariggle on the gorgeous title track. Her version of the Betty Everett oldie “You’re No Good” hits a perfect mix of desire and paranoia. Along with being a showcase for Ronstadt’s peerless versatility, Heart Like a Wheel is Seventies pop-rock craft at its sweetest and sturdiest.

The inclusion of Heart Like a Wheel is one of those instances where I feel as though Rolling Stone is splitting hairs by saying they only have 154 new additions to the list, in spite of how different it looks. Ronstadt was included with a “best of” boxset in 2012, but no she wasn’t given an actual solo album to go off.

Listening to her in the context of a full album was an entirely different experience than just listening to a greatest hits collection. This was very focused, married, powerful, and her powerhouse vocals pack a punch in combination with their blues-rock backdrop.

While it does still have its moments that I wasn’t particularly enchanted by, this album definitely painted a better portrait of why Ronstadt was an important artist. And it was a nice companion for my afternoon walk. That’s always a delight.

Re-listen?: No Was this on the 2012 list?: No, but Rolling Stone listed a Ronstadt anthology at 164. Should it have been?: Yep! Year: 1975 Standout Track(s): You’re No Good, It Doesn’t Matter Anymore, You Can Close Your Eyes Rating: 3.5/5 - Though it does have some dull moments and filler, the standout tracks are packed with energy.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #491, Harry Styles - Fine Line

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 2)

From Rolling Stone:

Harry Styles achieved pop greatness with One Direction, but he got even deeper on his own. On Fine Line, he stakes his claim as one of his generation’s most savagely imaginative musical minds. Styles breathes in the 1970s California sunshine of his heroes — Joni Mitchell, David Bowie, Stevie Nicks — with soulful breakup songs. As he explained, “It’s all about having sex and feeling sad.” Yet the music is drenched in starman joy: the ‘shroomadelic guitar trip “She,” the dulcimer-crazed “Canyon Moon,” the Number One juicy-fruit beach orgy “Watermelon Sugar.

I’m going to throw out a snap judgement here: Rolling Stone makes this sound a lot less appealing to me than it would have been. Having sex and feeling sad is just what being in your 20s is. Describing something as “shroomadelic” is a very easy way to shoot my interest in the face. I do not know what a juicy fruit beach orgy is and I don’t have any desire to find out. I’ve also heard “Watermelon Sugar” and “Adore You” many times on the radio and I don’t have positive opinions of either.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dreading this listen. Nonetheless, I tried to go into it with an open mind. 

My initial impression of the pop inclusions is that they resemble a sanitized version of new-wave. While the influence is really clear, there’s little here that distinguishes it against the production trends of 2019 in general. While it does distinguish him as a solo artist, whose individual creative proclivities are independent of One Direction, that does beg a broader question – how much is that truly worth, if neither has an abundance of character?

What frustrates me about Styles is that he’s capable of communicating a lot of emotion through his vocals, but the lyrics are trite and weak, doing nothing to truly support his efforts. “Falling” and “To Be So Lonely” are really good examples of this – they carry the approximate weight of Freddie Mercury singing the content of a teen meme page. It all feels like a total waste of time.

None of this is to say that emphasizing adolescent-type emotions makes for bad artwork – I talked about this in a previous entry about Disintegration, and I’m probably going to touch on it again when I listen to The Black Parade, despite my less-than-favorable opinion of it – but it’s a matter of how it’s framed. It’s easy to be unkind to how wrenched we are by our feelings when we have little life experience under our belt. But it doesn’t change how real those feelings are, and when given the proper attention, they sting just as deeply. The hurt becomes apparent again. There’s an understanding that it isn’t entirely baseless, but only when it’s treated with delicacy, superb articulation, and tact.

I hate to say things like “there’s a limit to the amount of times you can throw ‘baby’ into your lyrics without making them sound juvenile and silly,” when this isn’t a universal metric, but it’s the case here.

The glaring sin committed here is that very little consideration is being granted to the feeling it’s clearly trying to convey. Stylistically, Styles has departed significantly from his boy-band roots, but where substance is concerned, he’s hasn’t afforded his work any more depth. While seeking connection, faltering, and having your expectations doused in ways that you struggle to understand are all respectable themes to try and confront in your work, they’re really difficult ones to tackle properly. My own personal struggles with them have been suffocating at times, and when I go into art that’s supposed to deal with this, there’s always going to an expectation that the struggle be approached with the emphasis and honor it deserves.

When this doesn’t “hit”, it sounds petulant. It sounds whiny. It sounds entitled, bratty, and immature. Styles leans heavily into cliches, and while, through his vocal abilities, is able to speak in the accent of yearning, it’s still very evident as a listener that he doesn’t actually speak the language.

Maybe wealth and superstardom, sustained through your developmental years, does lend to a certain entitlement, or a fundamental inability to ever truly understand how it feels to want, to need, to be alone, and to buckle under your struggle to cope beneath it all. That’s a discussion that I don’t feel like having in a journal entry about a fucking Harry Styles album. Either way, the only thing gluing this album together is the vocals. We need not ponder the greater questions unearthed by how bad it is.

Re-listen?: No Was this on the 2012 list?: No Should it have been?: No, this is a total misfire. Year: 2019 Standout Track(s): Golden, She Rating: 2.5/5 - If you sing pretty enough, no one will pay attention to the content of what you’re communicating ;)

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #492, Bonnie Raitt - Nick of Time

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 2)

From Rolling Stone:

After being dumped by her previous label, blues rocker Bonnie Raitt exacted revenge with this multiplatinum Grammy-award winner, led by an on-fire version of John Hiatt’s “Thing Called Love” and the brilliant title track, a study in midlife crisis told from a woman’s perspective. Producer Don Was helped her sharpen the songs without sacrificing any of her slide-guitar fire. And as Raitt herself pointed out, her 10th try was “my first sober album.”

I wasn’t crazy about this one the first time around, and unfortunately, revisiting it has done little to change my opinion of it. While the incidental blues offerings are great, upbeat, and engaging, they make up very little of the album.

The rest of the material leans on the side of late 80s country pop, pop rock, and easy listening. They bleed together a lot and it makes me sort of feel like I’m nursing a cup of coffee in the sort of nondescript southern diner that would play stuff like this. The intention here seemed to be subtle grit, but the subtleties are understated to the point where they sort of disappear in the instrumentation, especially when played against her voice, which is very strong and tends to overpower it.

I have a better sense of what’s supposed to be going on with this record, but I unfortunately still don’t think it works very well.

Re-listen?: Yes Was this on the 2012 list?: Yes, in spot 230 My Rank: 411 (3/5 - Found it inoffensive but kind of boring) Year: 1989 Standout Track(s): Thing Called Love New Rating: 3/5 - Some things never change... Including my inability to get into this one.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #493, Marvin Gaye - Here, My Dear

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 1)

From Rolling Stone:

It’s one of the weirdest Motown records ever. Marvin Gaye’s divorce settlement required him to make two new albums and pay the royalties to his ex-wife – the sister of Motown boss Berry Gordy. So Gaye made this bitterly funny double LP of breakup songs, including “You Can Leave, But It’s Going to Cost You.” When he asks “Somebody tell me please, tell me please/Why do I have to pay attorney fees?” it’s one of the most strangely transfixing soul-music moments of all time.

I did it the first time I listened to it, and I’m doing it again. I love how petty this album is. This album is basically the apex of unintended dark humor.

The back cover looks like this:

This is the fold-out art:

It’s as heavy-handed as they come.

“I guess this album is dedicated to you (...) This is what you want (...) There’s a lot of truth in it, baby.”

Right there, in the first minute of the album.

I’m going to throw influence out the window for a second. This album is unhinged and insane, and no matter how many times I listen to it, it’s every bit as absurd. Gaye details, with bitter honestly, and incidental humor, the destruction of his marriage and the strain of not being in his son’s life.

The lyrics are very pointed and literal, mixed against soothing and funky soul beats. It’s as melodic as it is scathing. Basically every lyric cuts like a knife. Who needs tabloid chatter when you have Here, My Dear? It’s a musical tell-all memoir, in all of its gory details. Anna Gordy filing a $5 million invasion of privacy suit, which never ended up materializing, was the icing on the cake.

If you have to give your royalties to the woman who’s fighting a custody battle against you, go all out, right? Who cares if it puts you more in the red than you were before?

Diving into the album’s history (read: the couple’s history) paints an unfavorable portrait of both parties, but the lack of tact on both ends does nothing to obfuscate how painful a breakup, even an inevitable breakup, can be.

Aside from the intense lyrical content, it’s marks a departure from more straightforward soul styling’s of Gaye’s iconic albums, to something more weighted towards funk and jazz. The length of the tracks, as well as the album itself, are much longer that his previous installations.

My giggles and pedestrian enjoyment as an aside, it’s truly the sound of a man in crisis. The rage, spite, frustration, and bitterness is palpable. Here, My Dear packs a hard emotional punch, in spite of his glaring failings as a husband. Its critical and commercial bomb may have been entirely intentional – after all, Gaye didn’t stand to make much from it anyway – but it served as predecessor for the more personal and intimate R&B that would follow it. Whether by design or not, it was still ahead of its time in many respects.

While Gaye’s marriage to his second wife would eventually disintegrate, the tone of hope near the end serves as a fine conclusion. Perhaps Gaye died without ever figuring out how to love another, but the tone of triumph over heartbreak makes this absurd installment in his discography feel very full, very complete.

Re-listen?: Yes Was this on the 2012 list?: Yes, in spot 456 My Rank: 118 (4/5 - Flagrantly embraced the pettiness of it all) Year: 1978 Standout Track(s): Here, My Dear, Anger, Is That Enough, Sparrow, A Funky Space Reincarnation New Rating: 4/5 - Pure, artistic drama.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #494, The Ronettes - Presenting the Fabulous Ronettes

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 1)

From Rolling Stone:

More a Spanish Harlem street gang than a girl group, the Ronettes were pop goddesses dressed as Catholic schoolgirls gone to hell and back. Phil Spector builds his Wall of Sound as his teen protégée (and future wife) Ronnie Spector belts “Be My Baby” and “Walking in the Rain,” while songs like “I Wonder” and “Baby, I Love You” ache with hope for a perfect love that always seems to be impossibly ideal and just within arm’s reach.

I still have a lot of feelings related to Phil Spector and the Ronettes, and there’s a pulsing anger related to it. While many evaluations of music give the producers a nod, few artists are robbed to the extent which the Ronettes are. Imagine if you couldn’t discuss In Utero without someone reflexively interjecting about how it was more a reflection of Albini than it was Nirvana – that’s the space the Ronettes occupy. They’re denied their own legacy, by the hands of someone who made Ronnie Bennett’s life a living Hell.

It’s even more surreal to see it acknowledged that Spector was introduced to Bennett in her teenage years and later married her, but still have the body of his work acknowledged above the most iconic work of hers. The 2012 iteration of this list included a compilation of girl groups, which illustrated how the “wall of sound” was an invention of black girl groups before Spector even began producing. Even the description provided by the magazine hinges the importance of the Ronettes on the marketing of their sexuality... As teenagers. It’s despicable. It’s unfair. It’s criminal.

My issues with the framework are mine, and apparently mine alone. Let’s talk about the album itself and pretend Spector never existed.

The influence of this evidence is self-evident. It’s a vocally and sonically strong foundation for pop. The Ronettes were bubblegum juggernauts, and pop music today still strongly resembled their music in its structure, oftentimes without the same vocal power backing it.

I was hoping a list more pop-centric would include more material from similar black girl groups, but frankly, the Ronettes speak for themselves. Listening to them is enough to fill in the blanks for yourself. While I don’t love every song on this album, it’s a perfect work in its illustration of its development of pop.

All of the new inclusions to this list, all ranking higher than this, none of them would be what they are without the Ronettes. I’m happy they were acknowledged, but I’ll never stop being angry until they receive their due credit.

Re-listen?: Yes Was this on the 2012 list?: Yes, in spot 422 My Rank: 58 (4.5/5 - Without girl groups, we wouldn’t have pop.) Year: 1964 Standout Track(s): Walking In The Rain, Do I Love You?, I Wonder, Be My Baby, Baby, I Love You New Rating: 4.5/5 - They were essential and I’m tired of everyone pretending they weren’t.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #495, Boyz II Men, 'II'

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 1)

From Rolling Stone:

With their innocent romanticism and meticulous vocal arrangements, Boyz II Men became the most commercially successful R&B vocal group of all time. II includes two mammoth hits, courtesy of Babyface: “I’ll Make Love to You” and the audaciously baroque “Water Runs Dry.” But the group’s own Nathan Morris and Shawn Stockman composed II‘s most poignant moment, “Khalil’s Interlude,” a soft onslaught that’ll leave you sobbing in the fetal position: “I need shelter from the rain/To ease the pain of changing from boys to men.”

There’s a very specific association that comes to mind where it concerns Boyz II Men and younger Millennial barflies – that one guy. He sings “End of the Road” every single week at karaoke. He never matches pitch. It matters none, whether you live in Seattle, or Philadelphia, or a modest suburb, or a place so rural that you don’t bat an eye at traveling 15 miles to the grocery store. That man is there, in you local dive, waiting to make the eardrums of the masses bleed with “End of the Road.”

That’s just me purging my bias, though.

This album doesn’t have the same appeal to the depressing dive-dwellers, which speaks for itself enough. And how could it? The selling point of II is its vocal interplay, demonstrated across various tempos and stylings.

While it’s it’s not without its overly slow and saccharine moments, it’s a pleasant enough listen. Even when it is paced down, the arrangements are a little more complex and sophisticated than something like Ask Rufus, and the end product is much nicer.

That said, it was primarily the listenable, familiar singles that got me through this one. It clocks in at just under an hour, and apparently 7 songs that were recorded for the record were included. The length definitely works to this one’s detriment.

But I do love the a cappella cover of “Yesterday”. It’s a gorgeous snapshot of the group’s vocal ability.

Re-listen?: No Was this on the 2012 list?: No Should it have been?: This > Toys in the Attic. Easily. So, yeah. Year: 1991 Standout Track(s): U Know, I’ll Make Love to You, On Bended Knee, Yesterday Rating: 3.5/5 - Not really my thing, but I respect it.

[itsmorefuntohavebadtaste]

Braving the Rolling Stone 500, Again: #496, Shakira - Dónde Están los Ladrones?

(Start date: September 23, 2020 / Day 1)

From Rolling Stone:

Long before she went blond and took her never-lying hips to the top of the American pop charts, Shakira was a raven-haired guitar rocker who’d hit peak superstardom in the Spanish-speaking world with her 1995 LP, Pies Descalzos. To keep up the momentum, Shakira enlisted Emilio Estefan to help produce her next LP, this stellar globetrotting dance-rock set, which blends sounds from Colombia, Mexico, and her father’s native Lebanon.

It probably goes without saying that this album also isn’t in English, which poses some obvious barriers to me as someone reviewing it. While Spanish is significantly more of an accessible album to me than, say, Zulu, it’s not the second language I learned.

In terms of the music and Shakira’s voice, this bears a very strong resemblance to Jagged Little Pill, especially when you take a track like “Inevitable” into consideration. It’s very listenable mid-90s style pop rock. I’m completely going off translations I found online, but the lyrics are a lot more reflective and contemplative than Morissette’s characteristic cynicism. From what I can gather from the translations, I greatly prefer this in comparison. There’s a strong overlap between the themes she touches on and the imagery which she uses to convey it; and the subject material and detail-orientation that an artist like Dylan is so frequently praised for.

It’s always a nice treat to find something strongly melodic and lyrically fortified. While I was frustrated to not be able to engage with it on the same level that a native speaker would have, I still found it delightful.

Re-listen?: No Was this on the 2012 list?: No Should it have been?: Absolutely. Year: 1998 Standout Track(s): Si Te Vas, Inevitable, Octavo Dia, Donde Estan los Ladrones, Ojos Asi Rating: 4/5 - 90s pop-rock sensibilities and poetic deftness? Sign me up, now, immediately.