Having suggested that people writing reviews for BlogCritics ought to post "favorite album" lists to provide some context for their reviews, I suppose I'm obliged to post such a list myself. Of course, being a naturally contrary sort, I'll do this in a slightly idiosyncratic manner.
As noted in another recent post, I have some fairly strong opinions on what constitutes a good album, that go beyond just having three or four good singles. A really great album is a collection of songs that all work together, and add up to something more than the sum of the individual tunes-- mediocre songs should be lifted up in the context of a really great album, and sound better than they would on their own. It's also crucial that none of the songs be actively bad or annoying.
I've sometimes referred to this (with characteristic humility) as the "Perfect Album" concept, but it's a little tricky to concisely nail down exactly what I mean. It's important that all of the songs be at least reasonably good, so I've sometimes said "They're records on which all the tracks are good" or "They're records you can put on 'Random Play' in a CD changer without needing to skip tracks," but there's more to it than that-- you can make a good shuffle-play album out of a dozen tracks that all sort of sound the same, and don't really suck. Buffalo Tom has a few such albums, to pick a name off the MP3 collection, but none of them make the Perfect Album list. It's important that the songs all fit together well, which is part of why I exclude "Greatest Hits" packages from consideration, but live albums are off the list as well, just to be difficult.
I should emphasize that this isn't really a "favorite albums" list per se, or a good indicator of the sort of thing I play most frequently. There are lots of albums that make regular appearances in my CD player that aren't listed below, usually because of one or two actively irritating tracks, some of them great records by almost any standard. I'm a big Bob Dylan fan, but Blonde On Blonde misses out because "Rainy Day Women" is so goddamn annoying, and Highway 61 Revisited doesn't make it because "Ballad of a Thin Man" bugs me. It's also limited to records I actually own, so while there's a chance that Born to Run or London Calling might belong on the list, the fact that I don't have them on CD disqualifies them from consideration. And all the usual disclaimers apply: Tastes Vary, all IMAO, YMMV. HTH, HAND.
So. The list, in alphabetical order by artist, because that's how the discs are shelved:
- Gentlemen by the Afghan Whigs. A fantastic portrait of a disintegrating relationship, with biting lyrics ("She said 'Baby, forever,/ But I don't like to be alone/ So don't stay away too long'/ Baby, forever,/ Well it's Tuesday now,/ I hear him breathing inside of her."), crunching guitars, and a little bit of soul-music crooning mixed in. "My Curse" with guest vocals by Marcy Mays is one of the creepiest songs I've ever heard, and the desperate yearning in the cover of "I Keep Coming Back" gives me chills. It's a tragedy that these guys never really hit it big.
- 1965 by the Afghan Whigs. To be more specific, it's a tragedy that this album didn't sell a billion copies. Described on their (now defunct) web site as an album where "guilt takes a back seat to lust," this is the Whigs making a party album. The whole record is perhaps best summed up by the lyrics (from "Somethin' Hot") "Baby, you don't know/ Just how I lie awake/ And dream a while, about your smile/ And the way you make your ass shake"-- Greg Dulli isn't any more well-adjusted on this record than on Gentlemen, but he's decided to take the whole tortured-alternadude-slash-soul-singer thing, kick out the jams, and just have fun. Allan Bloom would hate this record, but it kicks enough ass to make the Whigs the only band with two albums on this list.
- Abbey Road by the Beatles. Partly, this is nostalgia-- Abbey Road provides the soundtrack for my earliest fragmentary memories. But this is a really solid album, too-- not so much a singles record, but the late Beatles at their very best. Sgt. Pepper gets play for being the first concept album, and the White Album has more famous singles, but Abbey Road is where they put it all together, and did it right.
- Making Movies by Dire Straits. Yeah, fine, "Hand in Hand" is sappy and "Les Boys" is filler, but somehow they fit on this record. And "Romeo and Juliet" is worth inclusion in the "great hopeless love song" canon, while "Tunnel of Love" and "Skateaway" are great tunes.
- Blood on the Tracks by Bob Dylan. Dylan's famous breakup album, and one of the great downer records of all time. Everybody knows "Tangled Up In Blue," but "Idiot Wind" is one of the great bitter breakup songs, "Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts" is vintage playful Dylan, and "If You See Her, Say Hello" does a wonderful job of capturing a certain kind of just-been-dumped desperation.
- What's Going On by Marvin Gaye. This almost doesn't make it, because the tracks don't really stand alone very well. But taken as a whole, it's a great record, and one of the few really great albums to come out of the Motown singles factory. As a friend of mine put it, "Marvin Gaye fought for years to gain creative control of his music, and when he got it, he made What's Going On, one of the most powerful and enduring pop records ever. The Jackson Five got creative control of their music, and what did they make? Dance Machine. A disco album."
- Bee Thousand by Guided by Voices. "Demons Are Real" is almost annoying enough to knock this one off, but it's really short, like most of the song fragments on this album. I'm a sucker for Robert Pollard's elliptical lyrics ("'If it's right you can tell' echoes Myron like a siren/ With endurance like the Liberty Bell"), and the man knows how to write a catchy hook. Granted, those hooks tend to appear in 90-second songs with instrumentation just this side of Tom Waits, but when he buckles down and concentrates on making sense, you get gems like "I Am a Scientist," which is worth several whole albums full of odd buzzing and clanking noises.
- Fight Songs by the Old 97's. Somewhere between alt.country, pop, and punk lie the Old 97's. This is mellower and less twangy than their older Too Far to Care, which has been the soundtrack for my puttering in the lab these last few weeks, and has a fuller sound than their more recent Satellite Rides, but it's loaded up with catchy songs, and some pretty sharp lyrics. "Crash on the Barrelhead" almost knocks it off, but how could I leave off an album containing the world's catchiest song about a lost cat? ("Murder or a Heart Attack")
- Full Moon Fever by Tom Petty. This one's definitely a nostalgia thing-- it absolutely defines a time and place for me (early sophomore year in college). A squalid dorm room, piss-poor American beer, and jangly guitar-driven pop music-- what more could a college student want? Well, lots of sex would be nice. But failing that, you can't ask for better sing-along material than "Free Fallin'" and "Yer So Bad."
- Copper Blue by Sugar. Jokingly referred to as "Husker Du Mark Two" when I first heard it, this is the record that, for me, all alternarock guitar skronk must be measured against. Not many people can stack up to Bob Mould in that category, and this may be his best work. Crashing drums, propulsive bass lines, and buzz-saw guitars, and somehow he always manages to sneak in both a memorable hook and a melody. Not to mention pretty solid lyrics. Not a happy record, but it does contain the world's catchiest tune about drowning your significant other ("A Good Idea"), and "If I Can't Change Your Mind" is as wistful as a wall of sound can ever get.
And that's ten, which is a nice round number, and a good place to stop. There are dozens of albums hanging just below the level of this list (Fight Songs was the last one on (I've been on a country-ish kick for a little while now, and needed something to represent that), while Exile On Main St. and Utopia Parkway were the last two cut, and might well make it into the top ten if you asked me again in a month), and dozens more which were excluded on the basis of one arbitrary criterion or another. But these ten are consistent favorites, and probably as good a quick indicator of my tastes in music as anything else I could provide.
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