Back in January,
I compiled a list of my all-time favourite songs, though the title is a bit of
a misnomer in hindsight. My tastes are quite temporal, and I can say that since
that piece was originally written at least one of its entries was knocked off
the list by another. Keeping with my preferential inconsistency, what follows
are my top five favourite albums in this
point in time, arranged in alphabetical order. Please enjoy this mindless
self-indulgence.
Amnesiac, by Radiohead
Kid A’s release in 2000 completely redefined Radiohead as a band
and helped popularize electronica, ambience and, to a degree, Krautrock over
the next decade and beyond. Amnesiac,
born out of the same recording sessions and for all intents and purposes Kid A’s fraternal twin, was released the
following year to similar if noticeably lessened fanfare, and has since been
kind of lost in the shuffle between the former album and Radiohead’s return to
their rocker roots in 2003’s Hail to the
Thief. Compared to the at times icy precision of its twin, Amnesiac is a more freely flowing album
that emphasizes Radiohead’s jazz influences in pieces like “Pyramid Song,” “You
and Whose Army?” and “Life in a Glasshouse,” the last of which sounds like a
strung out house band’s dirge in a bombed-out New Orleans saloon. “I Might Be
Wrong,” a harsh, guitar-driven song, straddles the line between intensity and
plain old scary, and the ethereal backwards melody of “Like Spinning Plates” is
one of the record’s emotional highlights. While Kid A may remain Radiohead’s greatest and most defining album, Amnesiac’s meaty and messy output
ensures its constant rotation on my personal playlist.
Hot Rats, by Frank Zappa
Zappa’s second
solo record is an almost entirely instrumental affair that wonderfully
showcases the man’s skill as a guitarist and arranger. The first instalment in
Zappa’s unofficial jazz trilogy, which also includes Waka/Jawaka and The Grand
Wazoo, Hot Rats is a tight piece
of work. Even ignoring the album opener and now jazz fusion standard “Peaches
en Regalia,” the record manages to peak with every song, though I’m most pumped
up by the nearly 13-minute-long “Gumbo Variations,” which features a lengthy
and awesome jazz-rock violin solo by Don “Sugercane” Harris. Beside all of
this, Hot Rats is arguably Zappa’s
most accessible album and an ideal jumping off point for exploring the late
artist’s substantial discography.
Low, by David Bowie
From 1976 to
1980, David Bowie put out five of the best records of his career, four of them
with producer Tony Visconti. His first collaboration with Visconti, and the
first of his Brian Eno-guided “Berlin trilogy,” was 1977’s Low, whose harsh electronic sound had only been briefly previewed
by its predecessor, Station to Station
(Bowie’s second best, for the record). Low
sticks out even from Bowie’s largely experimental output in this period thanks
to a distinctive hollow, processed drum sound created by Visconti for the
album. The first half consists of catchy, mostly fast-paced rock-oriented tunes
with electronic backing, “Be My Wife” being one of the best songs of Bowie’s
career, but Low really takes off with
its instrumental and semi-ambient second half, especially the grandiose “Warszawa”
and album closer “Subterraneans.” Bowie would reuse this formula later on that
year for “Heroes,” albeit lacking Low’s almost purely electronic bite.
So, by Peter Gabriel
You know what I
mean by an “’80s sound,” right? Bright, excessive synths? Treble cranked up on
the bass? That intangible sense of everything being artificially grafted
together? Well Pete Gabe’s 1986 release has all of these unfortunate traits,
but exceeds in spite of all of them. With the help of the Prophet-5
synthesizer, the early Fairlight CMI sampler and best bassist ever Tony Levin
(among many others, of course), this nine song record not only sports some of
the greatest hits of his career—I shouldn’t even half to mention “Sledgehammer”
and “In Your Eyes” at this point, but there you go—but some simply sublime
compositions. Why “Mercy Street” isn’t heard during every sad TV drama moment
is beyond me. Moreover, So is just
incredibly listenable from start to finish, the accessible but incredibly
detailed nature of its arrangements making it enjoyable whether appreciated
casually or attentively.
Still, by Nine Inch Nails
An unusual album on this list, as four of its nine tracks are stripped down re-recordings of older NIN tunes. However, Still feels like a calm after the storm, dotted with short, subdued pieces like “Adrift and at Peace” and “Gone, Still.” This (comparatively) tranquil approach foreshadows some of his work on With Teeth and with How to Destroy Angels, but even on its own it stands toe-to-toe with The Fragile and The Downward Spiral. Still is a rarity but also Trent Reznor at his compositional best.
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