Roxy Music “Stranded” (1973)

Stranded was Roxy Music's first album after the departure of Brian Eno - who was undeniably the band's driving force when it came to experimental avant-garde rock. No doubt the change in personnel lost the band a number of acolytes but there are enough traces of his influence remaining to make this the finest album the band ever released and, in my eyes at least, something of a classic. The introduction of Eddie Jobson's woodwind rather than Eno's spacey loops signalled a sea change in the band's approach with Ferry using this smoother sound to promote himself as the ultimate suave womaniser who thought he could seduce with a mere twitch of his tonsils. And, on some of these tracks, that doesn't sound too farfetched. With the passage of time it becomes ever more apparent that Roxy Music consisted of some truly excellent musicians. Phil Manzanera's guitar, Andy Mackay's sax and, in particular, one of the most underrated of drummers, Paul Thompson, all deserve equal credit even though they couldn't compete with Ferry's persona. The album contains eight tracks all of which are praiseworthy but special consideration should be given to "A Song For Europe", "Amazona", "Psalm" and the tour-de-force "Mother Of Pearl". –Ian

Repost: X “Under The Big Black Sun” (1982)

A record that sums up Americana as well as any other. “Under The Big Black Sun” is proof that X was as good of a country band as they were a punk band. Rockin’, rollicking, dissonant and dizzying, this record is a forty-five minute bender. Bookended by “The Hungry Wolf” (an superblast of syncopated yell along) and “The Have Nots” (possibly the best drinking song ever), this is the soundtrack to an unencumbered night out. –Cameron

Elton John “Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy” (1975)

Strangely paradoxical how Elton John is now fiercely, almost neurotically, obsessed with protecting his personal life, yet in 1975 released Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy which purported to tell the story of his and Bernie Taupin’s struggle for recognition. Equally interesting, given his sexual ambivalence, is the unspoken story behind such songs as "Someone Saved My Life Tonight" and "We All Fall In Love Sometimes". Interesting as all that is, the most important factor to remember about this album is that it’s an absolute cracker. Everything seems to have come together at the right time to create a near classic. This is Elton's finest backing band. Davey Johnstone, Dee Murray, Nigel Ollson and Ray Cooper may have come and gone throughout his career but there can be no doubting he should have stuck with them. The artwork for the album by Alan Aldridge is superb and certainly one of my favorite covers. And the songs, because of the stories behind them, have power and poignancy. But, I said this is a near classic and that's why reviewing is a personal business. Others may like "Tell Me When The Whistle Blows" and "(Gotta Get A) Meal Ticket", I don't and that's were the album falls down. Still, the Captain and the Cowboy done good. –Ben

Bob Welch “French Kiss” (1977)

Following a brief affair with heavy rock on the pair of Paris releases, Bob Welch puckers up and lands a solo soft rock triumph on French Kiss. While some of that guitar crunch remains, it and Welch's trademark baked goods vocals are wrapped in silky disco strings and dance floor beats throughout the mesmerizing French Kiss. The LP finds Welch as a post-hippie playboy on the prowl through irrepressible entries like the alluring "Ebony Eyes," "Hot Love, Cold World," and the Fleetwood/McVie/Buckingham assisted infatuation of "Easy to Fall" and "Sentimental Lady," originally cut for the Mac's Bare Trees. Elsewhere the disco-rockin' "Carolene," funky "Outskirts," vintage Welch space-drifter "Danchiva" and sunny Claifornia dreamin' duo of "Lose my Heart" and "Lose Your Heart" only serve to solidify the album's appeal - rare is the seventies softie that never dips in quality, all while delivering the lounge lizard magic in such spot-on fashion as on French Kiss. –Ben

ZZ Top - Tejas (1977)

1977s Tejas is a transition album for Texas rockers ZZ Top. It is the beginning of their step away from the Blues Rock that had brought them fame and a lot of record sales and towards the 1980s Electronic Blues that would eventually make them a worldwide phenomenon. There is more of the former Blues Rock than the latter Electronica here though. Tejas is almost as good a ZZ Top's masterpiece Deguello, but is held back by some weaker tracks, something Deguello didn't suffer from. Still there are some amazing songs here, notable the blazing, yet tongue in cheek Arrested for Driving While Blind, the countrified and rollicking She's a Heartbreaker, and the achingly beautiful Asleep in the Desert. Overall Tejas is an important part of ZZ Top's discography, and a very good album. –Karl

Van Morrison “Astral Weeks” (1968)

“If I ventured in the slipstream, between the viaducts of your dream...” and so opens the poetic dream masterpiece, Van Morrison’s “Astral Weeks.” It's one of those monuments to human emotion that has the power to carry the weight of your life with it. The funny thing is, I really wasn’t feeling Van for the longest time, always shelving him away in the “mom-rock” bin. Then all of a sudden something hit me and quickly snowballed into the realization of his genius. With Astral I find the strength lies in the fact that, although the production is both classical and traditional in instrumentation, the record comes across as highly psychedelic from the mysticism of the arrangements. It’s similar in that way to the first few Leonard Cohen records or Townes Van Zandt’s “Our Mother the Mountain,” And for being such a contender among quality poetic-psyche LP’s, it’s easily available and usually pretty cheap, so there's no reason why you can't check it out. –Alex

Fleetwood Mac “Tusk” (1979)

I believe that the true power in this world is love. There's obviously a strong universal relation to the longing of the soul. I also believe that Fleetwood Mac just might be the best musical representation of love. I could probably write about any Mac record, making similar points, TUSK just happens to be living on my turntable at the moment. It's not a perfect album by any means, but when you dive deep into this band, it all hits the spot. TUSK is the double-LP follow up to their multi-platinum break up monster, Rumors. Of course there's no way Tusk could ever have been nearly as much of a commercial success, but that's what's nice about it for me, there's at least one full-length records worth of killer pop "anti" hits that still satisfy the listener in the same way, beautiful vocal coloring over lindsey buckingham's percussive strumming and driven home by that wonderful snare crack that mick fleetwood perfected in the pop years. Plus this seems to be the point where Buckingham really took over the production and, for lack of a better term, went insane. So the arrangements are wacky as hell at some points and he must have played at least 50 different stringed instruments on it, but what's love without craziness? Give this a chance if you haven't already. For lovers only. –Alex

Repost: King Crimson “Red” (1974)

A caged beast of a record, and easily this group's best, it strips away most of their obscurantist pretensions to serve up a guitar bass and drum assault that runs frequently into the red and is something to behold: Bruford's drumming is jaw-dropping, while Fripp plays with a dark metallic intensity that suggests he's one of rock's wasted talents. I can even put up with John Wetton here, whose ferocious bass playing is more like a second (maybe third) lead instrument and whose singing has a kind of macho bravura that suits this music's seething intensity. Still, the beast is caged. I'm always a little let down by the second side, which is what keeps Red from essentially essential status, with the wandering "Providence" (another crack at the improv-based excursions heard on the previous album) and the somewhat undercooked "Starless." No, I'm not kidding: "Starless," which many listeners seem to think is a masterpiece, could've used a little more work. I'm forever disappointed by the whole trajectory of this track, which at 12-some minutes would've benefited from a few more (the majestic ending should've been lengthier, to provide a kind of bookend equivalent to the sturm-und-drang of "Red;" it may be quibbling, but it's my party and I'll cry if I want to). So, instead of the Godzilla of prog-rock tracks, "Starless" is merely a woolly mammoth. This group never made the great record they should've made. This one's the only one that comes close. And oh so close. –Will

Tim Buckley “Starsailor” (1970)

Tim Buckley had already begun to alienate his folkie fanbase with “Lorca” a few months earlier– what the hell was up with this golden-voiced disciple of Fred Neil? Why would he release an album filled with meandering free jazz-like structures and vocal gymnastics that made it sound as though he was being disemboweled? Well, if they wuz bewildered by “Lorca,” “Starsailor” musta felt like a kick in the groin. Not only was it a continuation of the avant garde themes which in hindsight, he’d barely scratched, it was a full-on operetta revolving around the pit of anguish that burned in his guts; he also began to fully utilize the five and a half octave vocal range he had at his disposal.

I’m gonna hazard a guess that Buckley had been listening intently to Leon Thomas– particularly his work with Pharaoh Sanders on “Karma.” He liberally borrows Thomas’ conventional-croon-to-absurd-yodel on several tracks, most notably “Monterey,” a dissonant Voodoo Blues that conjures a vibe equal parts atavistic ritual and sleazy mating call. Bunk Gardner, late of the Mothers of Invention, provides some Ornette-esque sax squawk, further pushing the song into uncharted territory– at least for the early 1970’s zeitgeist. “Moulin Rouge” is a brief slice of Franco-Pop that coulda easily been recorded by Edith Piaf– I only mention it as it is one of the few cuts that provides a respite from the suffocating melancholy and bordering on psychedelic experimentation that makes up the rest of the LP. For instance, the ethereal title track is akin to smoking far too much DMT, only to discover that instead of encountering the promised elves hiding in the artificial netherworld, you find yourself surrounded by bloodthirsty, shapeless abominations far outside the realms of HP Lovecraft’s worst nightmares. Lee Underwood’s stellar guitar work also deserves a nod. His connection with Buckley borders on preternatural– be it the spare, mournful licks he uses to accompany Tim’s wounded wail on the oft-covered/butchered “Song to the Siren,” or the majestic, fleet-fingered riffs that double Buckley’s vocal on “Come Here Woman.”

If you’re new to the elder Buckley, this may not be the best place to start. I’d recommend “Dream Letter: Live in London” for virgins, as well as for fans of his offspring, a certain Jeff. –Jake P

Phil Manzanera/801 “801 Live” (1976)

Not your every day live album, 801 Live captures the supergroup featuring ex-Roxy Musicians Phil Manzanera and Brian Eno in one of their few performances. Featuring all the sonic detail, colorful guitar and synthesizer tones, and high-class musicianship you'd expect from such a lineup, another pleasant surprise here is the excellent recording, which almost sounds more like a studio album. A subtle, delicate style informs many of these performances, highlighting tracks from Eno and Manzanera's early solo albums, the Quiet Sun album, and skewed reworkings of "Tomorrow Never Knows" and "You Really Got Me." Brainy and electronic, but warm and human as well, 801 Live is an essential purchase for fans of the musicians involved, or seventies art-rock in general. –Ben

Joni Mitchell “The Hissing of Summer Lawns” (1975)

And so, the dazzling beauty of Court and Spark carries on with The Hissing of Summer Lawns. Musically, it continues in a similar vein - an all-star lineup effortlessly shifting between Pop, Folk and Jazz, playing rich, multi-layered arrangements which never overpower Joni, whose main concern is always the song and its words. The lyrics have become more intimate, more melancholic on The Hissing of Summer Lawns and so has the music. Again, one or two songs don't meet my undivided approval (Shadows and Light and The Jungle Line, even though the song marks the beginning of a lasting Pop format, the attempt to create a multicultural world music, ten years before Peter Gabriel, Sting and others), but the rest is again of celestial beauty. Even Joni, who would go on to record important albums until today, wasn't able to match the artistic consistency and beauty of Court And Spark and The Hissing of Summer Lawns until many years later, with Turbulent Indigo and Travelogue. –Yofriend

The Velvet Underground “1969: The Velvet Underground Live with Lou Reed” (1974)

"Good evening, we're the Velvet Underground.” It's a far cry from another intro uttered that same year: "Ladies and gentleman, the greatest rock and roll band in the world…” Lou Reed’s intro is obviously more understated and, coming from a notoriously prickly New Yorker, surprisingly cordial. And it goes on for awhile... After asking the audience if they would prefer a one-long-set or two-set performance, we get a recap of a Dallas Cowboys game. Almost a full minute and a half has passed when, out of nowhere, Reed casually states, "this is a song called I'm Waiting for My Man". The band then wastes no time locking into an historic, rock-solid groove.

1969: The Velvet Underground Live with Lou Reed has always been a VU fan favorite, but it’s overshadowed by the band's iconic studio catalog. Misguided marketing and lame packaging are also to blame for its somewhat limited cult status. Released in 1974, during the most lucrative period of Lou Reed’s solo career, Mercury’s insistence on using his name in the title implied that other members of the VU were little more than his backing band, which couldn’t be further from the truth. The inner gatefold spread is also misleading, depicting an earlier and different (in both sound and appearance) incarnation of the band. Finally there’s the cover itself, which, in the immortal words of Patti Smith, “eats shit”. Despite this indifferent misrepresentation, this record is the first and last word in any discussion about the Velvet Underground as a live act. Almost all of the band’s classics are here, given new life---sometimes even bettered---by Reed's remarkably expressive vocals (one pines for the days when he actually sang), Sterling Morrison’s precision guitar work, Mo Tucker’s majestically simplistic drumming, and the melodic bass-playing of the most under-appreciated VU member, Doug Yule. Surprisingly large amounts of live VU performances were recorded, but this collection---the bulk of which was culled from a multi-night engagement at a tiny club in Dallas---has the best sound quality of any that have survived. It’s a different sound than the sharp and crackly production of the 1967 "Banana" LP: bluesier, and with a bottom that rattles the windows and shakes the floors. It's the sound of a band that’s been honing its craft in divey clubs and ballrooms across the US for over a year, and which, during the last few months of the 60’s, delivers the best live Rock and Roll show on either side of the Mississippi. –Richard P

Queen “Jazz” (1978)

In comparison to much of the Queen back catalogue, this album has been ripped apart, criticised, and sometimes even ridiculed to the point that one begins to believe in the negativity and almost approaches this 1978 release with a view that it is going to stink however hard one tries to judge it objectively. O.K, it doesn't contain any of the anthemic masterpieces one had become accustomed to. There is no "Bohemian Rhapsody", "Somebody To Love", " We Are The Champions", or "We Will Rock You". Yes it does open with one of the most bizarre songs the band would ever record, the pseudo Arabesque "Mustapha", which must have been a shock to regular fans.Yes one has to agree that their choice to stage an all nude female bicycle race at Wimbledon Racetrack and include a poster of the event with the album was not the most inspired promotonal strategy, particularly when one considers that The Womens Liberation Movement were at that time getting a certain amount of empathy for their vehement stand against Playboy, Miss World, and anything that showed women as objects for masculine amusement. Although the album would be released with the poster in the U.K, both Kmart and Sears in the States refused to handle "Jazz" with the poster, so American fans would only be able to purchase through Mail order. (It sounds like a Spinal Tap scene doesn't it ?). The American press were particularly scathing, Rolling Stone reviewer Dave Marsh panned "Jazz", and added "Queen may be the first truly Fascist Rock band".

So..is "Jazz" really that bad ? Quite honestly, no it isn't , it's actually a good album. Ostensibly, it is the most diverse Queen album up to that period but much of the material is strong, entertaining, and one gets the impression that the band enjoyed "stretching themselves", both musically and generically. The fun element of this recording comes through on songs like the macho Rocker "Fat Bottomed Girls", the magnificent multi tracked Vocal arrangement on "Bicycle Race", and the double entendre filled "Don't Stop Me Now", a whirling soaring Pop/Rock song on speed, and easily the best cut from the album. Freddie's ballad "Jealousy" is gentle and sweetly performed and works well as does Brian May's "Leaving Home Ain't Easy". The Roger Taylor songs are pretty bad ("Fun It", clunky Disco Rock) and ("More Of That Jazz", badly edited reprise music) and the John Deacon song "In Only Seven Days" seems like an act of appeasement so that all the band members can be recognised as song contributors.

"Jazz" really needs to be re-considered as a good album that was dumbed down by a Rock press who really didn't understand that every top Rock band needs to diversify at some stage in their career, and although this isn't Queen's best work, it is at times both fun and entertaining. –Ben H

The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band “The Doughnut in Granny's Greenhouse” (1968)

The great lost psychedelic album. On their second album the Bonzos knock off the trad jazz parodies and pair their surreal lyrics and wild imaginations with rock music to match. Neil Innes still gets to sing the catchiest songs -- "Beautiful Zelda", for instance, examines the perils of dating a space alien -- but Vivian Stanshall beats him with what could be the band's mission statement, "My Pink Half Of The Drainpipe". Plus there's the amazing Love parody "We Are Normal" ("and we dig Bert Weedon!"). The summit, though, is the too awesome for words "Rhinocratic Oaths", which, with its cheery narration ("You should get out more, Percy, or you'll start acting like a dog, ha ha ... He was later arrested near a lamp-post") reveals the Bonzo's ultimate truth: that there is nothing so lunatic as what passes for everyday life. (Hey, that Dada/Doo-Dah wasn't in their name for nothing.) If you have any spark of imagination or individuality, you must get this record. –Brad

J.J. Cale “Troubadour” (1976)

J.J. Cale's fourth album Troubadour is a mixed stew of everything from country, jazz, arena rock, blues, folk to funk; and that's just in the first song. He manages to whisper like Nick Drake, growl like John Lee Hooker and wine like Dylan...did I mention he's an extremely adept guitar player as well? Cale's songs have been covered by many artists, the most famous being "Cocaine" by Eric Clapton, but here we have the original; stripped down, but somehow fuller, with funky jabs and clumsy power chords. There's also some simple love songs as well, "Hey Baby" never gets too corny with jazzy horn phrases intertwining with country style chicken-pickin.' "Travelin' Light" is an intense study of the driving song with guitars and vibes throughout, pulsing like highway lines in the corner of your eye. This record is about the groove, while brilliant arrangements and clever instrumentation provide the texture, making everything unclassifiable. –ECM Tim

The Zombies “Odessey and Oracle” (1968)

If elegantly arranged chamber pop going for baroque is your cup of tea, get out your best china. Just about every minute of this record is beautifully constructed and rich in mood, and the arrangements are continuously compelling: comparisons with other groups don’t suffice, because this is a record on its own terms. The Zombies were kind of a musician’s group; all very good players writing very conscientiously for accessibility and sophistication (rather like those Beatles blokes, but I wasn't gonna compare). Even if this disc falls off a bit on the second half, which isn’t wall-to-wall classic, the vocal harmonies and the variety of musical textures these guys manage to wring out of every chord should satisfy, even when the song isn’t quite spot-on. But jeepers, when they're on, they are really on. One of the high water marks of ’60s pop. –Will

Rush “2112” (1976)

Rush's first truly definitive release, 2112 kickstarts a run that would vault the power trio to the top of the heap among Canada's rock exports. Sporting an iconic sleeve and crystal-clear production values, the album has come to define Rush's early sound, featuring traditional hard rock retooled with progressive precision, while lyricist Neil Peart's mix of philosophy and fantasy would ignite the sci-fi dreams of pimply-faced rockers for years to come. The epic title suite covers the whole of side one, and credits it's dystopian storyline to author Ayn Rand's Anthem, whose individualist outlook would fuel the lyrical fire of many a Rush classic. The track tells it's Saturday afternoon story of futuristic rebellion with an interwoven set of songs ranging from the complex "Overture" section and barnstorming "Temples of Syrinx," through the delicate "Discovery," tortured "Soliloquy" and tear-down-the-walls "Grand Finale." The remainder of 2112 in no way pales in comparison to it's flip side, boasting the fan favorite wacky-tabaccy ode "A Passage to Bangkok," supernatural imagery of "The Twilight Zone," and self-reliant rocker "Something For Nothing." As the critics looked on in dumbfounded disbelief, the sounds of 2112 filled the bedrooms and basements of suburban exiles worldwide, who from then on would live in anticipation of the next time they could lay their comic book ink-stained fingers on a new Rush album. –Ben

Randy Newman “Little Criminals” (1977)

The more I listen to Randy Newman, the more I'm impressed. It's not his voice, even though his nasally vocal has a pleasant, relaxing quality. It's certainly not the music which on Little Criminals is particularly one paced with a soporific, dozy aspect. It's not even the lyrics. They can be incisive, biting and sardonic but they also are simple and endearing with a homey feel. No, it's none of that. What it is, is the subjects he choses to write about and the subtle twists he puts into the stories. Take the title track as a prime example. Start listening to "Little Criminals" and you have this picture of indigant locals determined to rid their town of a small-time drug dealer. But, as the song progresses, you suddenly realise his protagonists are themselves criminals worried about a newcomer taking away their business - or, even better, lowering the tone of the neighbourhood because they're into armed robbery and consider that a higher calling than drug dealing. Brilliant! Or how about "Rider In The Rain" which subverts the myth of the lone cowboy wandering the plains by reminding us of the wife he's abandoned and the fact he's "raped and pillaged" his way to the place he is now. Or "In Germany Before The War" which conjures up a picture of a old guy shutting up his store every day to wander down to the banks of the Rhine to gaze out over the river. Only this guy is (I think) Peter Kurten, a real-life serial killer, preying on defenceless children. And all that's without mentioning Newman's dig at psychiatry in "Sigmund Freud's Impersonation Of Albert Einstein In America" or how appearances can be deceptive with "Jolly Coppers On Parade". And another example of how satire can backfire in "Small People" which a great many people took offence to because they believed Newman was deadly serious. Although, thinking about it, I suppose it wasn't technically a backfire as the song became a massive hit! As you would expect there are a couple of tender love songs - "Kathleen (Catholicism Made Easy)" and "I'll Be Home". Plus the song "Baltimore" is particularly affecting as I visited the city very recently. I think there must have been a great deal of urban regeneration since that song was written because Newman's Baltimore is a far bleaker and darker place than I saw. I don't think Newman will ever release a classic album because of the way he writes. The uncertainty of the does he mean it? is he joking? is unsettling and uncomfortable and makes it impossible to like everything. But I'm equally convinced that, after hearing just two of his albums, there will always be something for me to enjoy on all his others. –Ian

Jellyfish “Bellybutton” (1990)

From The Beatles right through to the likes of The Lightning Seeds, Britain has a knack of producing bands who deliver a brand of pure, polished pop. The content may have dark or serious overtones but the melody and vocals carry a rare, unblemished character. When a band is lauded as new pop sensations in America don’t expect the same characteristics. In some respects our pop is their AOR whilst their pop arrives way over from left field. They Might Be Giants and Eels are good illustrations of this idiosyncrasy and Jellyfish can be added to that list. They may have more rounded edges than the others but, underneath, they are equally strange. Vocally the closest comparison to Jellyfish is Crowded House (Andy Sturmer even sounds like Neil Finn), but when it comes to lyrical content they are a mile apart. Absent fathers ("The Man I Used To Be"), prostitution ("The King Is Half Undressed"), marital abuse ("She Still Loves Him"), rampant consumerism and parental neglect ("All I Want Is Everything") are all covered. It's testimony to the skill of the band that, no matter how heavy the subject, the music retains a lightness of touch to stop proceedings becoming too maudlin. Special mention should also be given to "I Wanna Stay Home" and "Baby's Coming Back" which, on their own, prove that Jellyfish was definitely a band that got away. –Ian

Mike Oldfield “Tubular” Bells (1973)

It's difficult to asess the importance of "Tubular Bells" and indeed the career of Mike Oldfield without reference to two important figures who contributed to the success of the album, Richard Branson and William Friedkin. The 19 year old Oldfield had used valuable studio time funded by Branson, to record his debut, then titled "Opus 1". Oldfield then hawked this work around the major record companies to complete rejection, and Branson, who at that time ran a mail order company, decided to form his own record company (Virgin), and release this (retitled "Tubular Bells") as the inaugural record. William Friedkin was at this time Directing the ground breaking horror flick "The Exorcist", and having heard "Tubular Bells" decided to use the opening eerie tinkling piano intro, decided to use it as the title music for the movie. And so, the die was cast and the album would go on to sell sixteen million copies worldwide, win Oldfield a Grammy award, and develop a new genre of music. It's difficult to review "Tubular Bells" as a straight Popular, Classical or Rock recording. It contains all of these genres and more, classically structured, it's a complex, startlingly unique, and undoubtedly valiant recording. At times the sound is beautifully symphonic, at other times hauntingly powerful. Oldfield uses over thirty different musical instruments and probably just as many percussive instruments, to create a plethora of differing interludes, some gentle, some sonically robust, all linked together by intricate tempo changes perfectly exemplified about twelve minutes into side one where a delicately intricate section is cleverly interrupted by rifferama guitar crash chords which fade into the next musical excursion. The album finishes with a traditional English folk tune which perfectly concludes a divinely satisfying album. Some Oldfield fans argue that "Hergest Ridge" and "Ommadawn" are better musical performances, but I stoutly defend "Tubular Bells" because of its bravery, complexity and utter originality. "Tubular Bells" remains a colossal achievement. –Ben H