Blog Project 2009 : Every Album (Part 14)
106. They Might Be Giants - Giants Jubilee (1997)
By its nature as a rarities compilation (this one dating from around the time of the debut album), this is inconsistent, and packed with weird curios that you otherwise would never think of listening to out of context. Nevertheless, it does also contain the excellence of the likes of “We’re The Replacements”, a somewhat bizarre electronic demo of “Don’t Let’s Start”, and - I have to admit - I utterly love “The Famous Polka”. Not a record I’d listen to all that often, but as with the various other TMBG compilations, a few moments are definitely worth picking at.
107. My Life Story - The Golden Mile (1996)
Will I get punched out by half my friends list if I make a lazy comparison along the lines of “Well, it’s not quite the Divine Comedy, but it’s still pretty good”? About half of this - “12 Reasons Why”, “Sparkle”, “April 1st”, “November 5th”, “The King of Kissingdom” - is terrific, because Shillingford can write a bloody good pop song; but on the other hand, the other half tends to grate with me (moreso than Hannon’s more self-indulgent moments do), which stops it from being a truly great album, rather something that I’ll pick a few excellent tracks from but ignore the rest. I can see why it’s so beloved, though.
108. Modest Mouse - Good News For People Who Love Bad News (2004)
Taken me a while to properly get into listening to Modest Mouse, but… yeah, they’re great, aren’t they? Even on their Massive Breakout Hit album with its Massive Breakout Hit Single. Hell, “Float On” is, despite its endless overplaying everywhere and everywhen (I’d never specifically sat down and listened to the song before getting this album… but I instantly knew it when I heard it), absolutely fantastic. There’s a pretty consistent - and quite deliberate - feel to this, but aside from picking out the odd track, I’ve not really listened to it enough to get a fuller sense of it. I like it, though.
109. Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci - Gorky 5 (1998)
Fantastic stuff from the middle section of Gorkys’ supreme mid-period trio of albums - it’s probably my least favourite of the three (the others being Barafundle and Spanish Dance Troupe), but it’s still utterly terrific. “Sweet Johnny” is nothing short of demented genius (and if you haven’t seen the Adam and Joe-directed video, DO), while “Let’s Get Together (In Our Minds)” is one of the most gorgeous love songs I’ve ever heard. John Lawrence gets to do some awesomeness as well, in the shape of “Tsunami”, and in “Tidal Wave” it contains a genuine balls-grabber of an opener. While a lot of the zanier aspects of earlier records were put aside for this, and it’s got much less of a dreamlike quality to it, there’s something particularly strong and confident about the whole thing (while maintaining the gentle, pleasant beauty that was always their hallmark) - and so while it’s not quintessentially Gorky’sish, it’s still a towering achievement.
110. Jeff Buckley - Grace (1994)
Objectively a fantastic album, of course, I never find myself feeling like listening to Buckley that much nowadays. It’s another one of those albums that has indelible associations with the past - in this case, sitting in our sixth-form common room with its dodgy CD player listening to it (and for some reason, “So Real” in particular) almost entirely non-stop. There’s not a bad moment on it (although like most people I’m bloody sick of “Hallelujah” now), and I definitely get in moods on occasion that feel perfectly suited to listening to it, but it often just feels a bit serious to want to take on that regularly.
111. Blur - The Great Escape (1995)
The unwitting casualty of the fallout of the Great Britpop War was that people didn’t really pay attention to what a brilliantly dark and unsettling album The Great Escape actually is. It’s one of those records that nowadays for me - and I’d imagine, for a lot of people - has unshakeable associations with a certain time and place, but it’s not just because it’s one of the first albums that I simply played to death of my own volition that I still love it today. It’s a mess of contradictions - at once a great pop record and a deconstruction of great pop records - something which “Country House”, which can now be looked back on as a glorious yet inexplicably endlessly listenable piece of self-satire, exemplifies in microcosm. Buried among the ostentatiousness of the singles, meanwhile, are two of the most quietly gorgeous things they’ve ever done - “Best Days” and “Yuko and Hiro”. And if nothing else, it contains The Greatest Song Of All Time in the shape of “The Universal”. Of all Blur’s albums, this is probably the one that I don’t even have to be in a particular mood to want to listen to. I know that puts me in a minority, but sod it.
112. REM - Green (1988)
Sorely underregarded, I reckon - this has easily got the measure of, say, Out of Time when it comes to laying out the template for the sound they’d adopt for their major label, world-conqueringness of the ‘90s. “Pop Song 89” and “World Leader Pretend” still feel like a natural progression from Document, but then you’ve got the mandolin-infused, and really rather great, likes of “You Are The Everything” and the gorgeous “Hairshirt”. And then there’s “Stand”, which, no two ways about it, is a genuinely perfect three-minute pop song.
113. Weezer - The Green Album (2001)
To understand my connection to this album, you have to understand where I was in 2001. I’d fallen heavily in with the Weezer crowd. I was running my own fansite (occupying a unique niche as pretty much the only UK-based one). My life was in Century Gothic on a lime-green background. This is the first record where I was tracking its progress right from day one, and desperately counting down to release date. The first record I ever pieced together bit by bit from leaks on the internet (and in 2001, that was a slow process). And even though half of it was overfamiliar by the time it came out, I loved it. And you know what? I still do. It’s thirty minutes of entirely simplistic and samey guitar-pop, the solos are just boring repetitions of the verses’ vocal lines, there’s not a single meaningful lyric on it, and it contains neither the naïve charm of Blue nor the accurate emotional portrayals of Pinkerton. But I don’t care. This record, and the context surrounding it, triggers in me so much in the way of memories of nascent online music fandom that it’ll always be important. And if nothing else, it is an utterly fantastic, frothy summer album.
114. The Get Up Kids - Guilt Show (2004)
The last hurrah from TGUK, it’s far from their best, but was at least an attempt to go back to the style of Something To Write Home About after the poor reception granted to the more “grown-up” On A Wire. There’s some good stuff on here - leadoff track “Man of Conviction” is particularly “classic” TGUK, but the odd moment aside there’s no real reason to listen to this rather than the earlier stuff.
115. Badly Drawn Boy - Have You Fed The Fish? (2002)
I’ve always had a soft spot for BDB, but I don’t think he’s really done anything that great since this album - and even then, I’ve gone off it a bit compared to how much I liked it at the time, particularly after seeing him play songs from it in the summer of ’02 when supporting REM. He’s a great songwriter, with the likes of “You Were Right” and “All Possibilities” real standouts here, but there’s something a little cheesy about some of this that means it’s not something I dig out all that often nowadays.
By its nature as a rarities compilation (this one dating from around the time of the debut album), this is inconsistent, and packed with weird curios that you otherwise would never think of listening to out of context. Nevertheless, it does also contain the excellence of the likes of “We’re The Replacements”, a somewhat bizarre electronic demo of “Don’t Let’s Start”, and - I have to admit - I utterly love “The Famous Polka”. Not a record I’d listen to all that often, but as with the various other TMBG compilations, a few moments are definitely worth picking at.
107. My Life Story - The Golden Mile (1996)
Will I get punched out by half my friends list if I make a lazy comparison along the lines of “Well, it’s not quite the Divine Comedy, but it’s still pretty good”? About half of this - “12 Reasons Why”, “Sparkle”, “April 1st”, “November 5th”, “The King of Kissingdom” - is terrific, because Shillingford can write a bloody good pop song; but on the other hand, the other half tends to grate with me (moreso than Hannon’s more self-indulgent moments do), which stops it from being a truly great album, rather something that I’ll pick a few excellent tracks from but ignore the rest. I can see why it’s so beloved, though.
108. Modest Mouse - Good News For People Who Love Bad News (2004)
Taken me a while to properly get into listening to Modest Mouse, but… yeah, they’re great, aren’t they? Even on their Massive Breakout Hit album with its Massive Breakout Hit Single. Hell, “Float On” is, despite its endless overplaying everywhere and everywhen (I’d never specifically sat down and listened to the song before getting this album… but I instantly knew it when I heard it), absolutely fantastic. There’s a pretty consistent - and quite deliberate - feel to this, but aside from picking out the odd track, I’ve not really listened to it enough to get a fuller sense of it. I like it, though.
109. Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci - Gorky 5 (1998)
Fantastic stuff from the middle section of Gorkys’ supreme mid-period trio of albums - it’s probably my least favourite of the three (the others being Barafundle and Spanish Dance Troupe), but it’s still utterly terrific. “Sweet Johnny” is nothing short of demented genius (and if you haven’t seen the Adam and Joe-directed video, DO), while “Let’s Get Together (In Our Minds)” is one of the most gorgeous love songs I’ve ever heard. John Lawrence gets to do some awesomeness as well, in the shape of “Tsunami”, and in “Tidal Wave” it contains a genuine balls-grabber of an opener. While a lot of the zanier aspects of earlier records were put aside for this, and it’s got much less of a dreamlike quality to it, there’s something particularly strong and confident about the whole thing (while maintaining the gentle, pleasant beauty that was always their hallmark) - and so while it’s not quintessentially Gorky’sish, it’s still a towering achievement.
110. Jeff Buckley - Grace (1994)
Objectively a fantastic album, of course, I never find myself feeling like listening to Buckley that much nowadays. It’s another one of those albums that has indelible associations with the past - in this case, sitting in our sixth-form common room with its dodgy CD player listening to it (and for some reason, “So Real” in particular) almost entirely non-stop. There’s not a bad moment on it (although like most people I’m bloody sick of “Hallelujah” now), and I definitely get in moods on occasion that feel perfectly suited to listening to it, but it often just feels a bit serious to want to take on that regularly.
111. Blur - The Great Escape (1995)
The unwitting casualty of the fallout of the Great Britpop War was that people didn’t really pay attention to what a brilliantly dark and unsettling album The Great Escape actually is. It’s one of those records that nowadays for me - and I’d imagine, for a lot of people - has unshakeable associations with a certain time and place, but it’s not just because it’s one of the first albums that I simply played to death of my own volition that I still love it today. It’s a mess of contradictions - at once a great pop record and a deconstruction of great pop records - something which “Country House”, which can now be looked back on as a glorious yet inexplicably endlessly listenable piece of self-satire, exemplifies in microcosm. Buried among the ostentatiousness of the singles, meanwhile, are two of the most quietly gorgeous things they’ve ever done - “Best Days” and “Yuko and Hiro”. And if nothing else, it contains The Greatest Song Of All Time in the shape of “The Universal”. Of all Blur’s albums, this is probably the one that I don’t even have to be in a particular mood to want to listen to. I know that puts me in a minority, but sod it.
112. REM - Green (1988)
Sorely underregarded, I reckon - this has easily got the measure of, say, Out of Time when it comes to laying out the template for the sound they’d adopt for their major label, world-conqueringness of the ‘90s. “Pop Song 89” and “World Leader Pretend” still feel like a natural progression from Document, but then you’ve got the mandolin-infused, and really rather great, likes of “You Are The Everything” and the gorgeous “Hairshirt”. And then there’s “Stand”, which, no two ways about it, is a genuinely perfect three-minute pop song.
113. Weezer - The Green Album (2001)
To understand my connection to this album, you have to understand where I was in 2001. I’d fallen heavily in with the Weezer crowd. I was running my own fansite (occupying a unique niche as pretty much the only UK-based one). My life was in Century Gothic on a lime-green background. This is the first record where I was tracking its progress right from day one, and desperately counting down to release date. The first record I ever pieced together bit by bit from leaks on the internet (and in 2001, that was a slow process). And even though half of it was overfamiliar by the time it came out, I loved it. And you know what? I still do. It’s thirty minutes of entirely simplistic and samey guitar-pop, the solos are just boring repetitions of the verses’ vocal lines, there’s not a single meaningful lyric on it, and it contains neither the naïve charm of Blue nor the accurate emotional portrayals of Pinkerton. But I don’t care. This record, and the context surrounding it, triggers in me so much in the way of memories of nascent online music fandom that it’ll always be important. And if nothing else, it is an utterly fantastic, frothy summer album.
114. The Get Up Kids - Guilt Show (2004)
The last hurrah from TGUK, it’s far from their best, but was at least an attempt to go back to the style of Something To Write Home About after the poor reception granted to the more “grown-up” On A Wire. There’s some good stuff on here - leadoff track “Man of Conviction” is particularly “classic” TGUK, but the odd moment aside there’s no real reason to listen to this rather than the earlier stuff.
115. Badly Drawn Boy - Have You Fed The Fish? (2002)
I’ve always had a soft spot for BDB, but I don’t think he’s really done anything that great since this album - and even then, I’ve gone off it a bit compared to how much I liked it at the time, particularly after seeing him play songs from it in the summer of ’02 when supporting REM. He’s a great songwriter, with the likes of “You Were Right” and “All Possibilities” real standouts here, but there’s something a little cheesy about some of this that means it’s not something I dig out all that often nowadays.