Introduction
The concept
April 2021. Baz has discovered something on Reddit. Neither Paul nor I know what Reddit is – but that is largely because we are both in our 50s, whereas Baz is a sprightly early-30s and moreover works in IT. What he has discovered will become a significant, possibly defining, factor in the lives of all three of us over the coming years. It will cause us to laugh, to argue, to fight and to frequently make use of the word “twat”. It will inform, educate, frustrate and anger us. Most importantly it will connect and bind us, to the exclusion of all others, in a way none of us could have foreseen, giving us a friendship that nobody will ever be able to quite fathom. What Baz has discovered…is the “1,001 album generator”.
Nobody born after about 1996 really has any idea what an “album” is. Aged ten as the iPhone becomes available, the only understanding of music that Gen Z has is that a) it comes on the internet and b) is therefore free. The idea that in the latter half of the 20th century the way to acquire music was to purchase 12inch pieces of vinyl which collected together a bunch of songs by the same artist is completely alien to the “youth of today”. I once showed my daughter (born 1994) a 7inch vinyl single. Explaining what it was I told her that one bonus of the single was that it came with a second song on the B side – to which she said “What’s the point of that? Why would you want a song you’ve never heard before which is presumably inferior to the A side?” Actually, she might have a point. When, in 2014, I demonstrated vinyl to my two younger children (born in the 00s), explaining that you had to tread carefully round the turntable because otherwise the needle might jump, they both jumped up and down to try and make the needle jump. Admittedly this is another feature of vinyl which doesn’t come with streaming, so again they may have a point. However I digress. The point is that however much streaming and therefore ad hoc listening to random tracks may have taken over listening habits, to people of a certain age the “album” is and always will be the primary art-form, the standard by which any artist is measured and the medium through which music should be heard and appreciated. This is how we grew up; our Saturday mornings spent leafing through racks of vinyl in local record shops, our hard-earned pocket money carefully allocated across a range of artists, both familiar and, in moments of daring, unfamiliar, our purchases driven as much by the album artwork and the artist’s reputation as by what we may have heard on the radio or seen on Top of the Pops. Not for us the luxury of having 10m songs at your fingertips on the internet and the miniscule attention span required to assess whether you liked something or not. No, we invested: not just money, but time. It is said that you have to listen to “Trout Mask Replica” by Captain Beefheart at least fifteen times before you “get” it. Trust me, if you had forked out a month’s newspaper delivery earnings on an “experimental” double album because the NME said it was great and you trusted their judgment, you’d listen over and over again, forcing yourself to believe, because otherwise you would have to acknowledge that buying this instead of “Out Of The Blue” by Electric Light Orchestra was a mistake. And through that repeated listening, over time you would come to appreciate its true majesty and then you too eventually would “get” it. (This is admittedly a bad example because “Out Of The Blue” would in fact have been a much better purchase – but the point is that I suspect nobody today is giving “Trout Mask Replica” a fair hearing). This is how Paul and I grew up; to us, the album is king and when we started working for the same company many years later in 2017 our common interest in music and the album as its primary medium was the thing that drew us together. Well…that and us both being accountants. And when we weren’t talking numbers, our conversations would eventually turn to music and the albums which were the backstories to our lives; the ones we loved, the ones we couldn’t stand, the ones we couldn’t bear to be without and the ones which frankly got on our tits. And listening into these conversations was Baz.
As I mentioned earlier, Baz is much younger than Paul and myself (although not young enough to not know what an album is). He likes his music and is acutely aware that he has possibly missed out by being born, in Paul’s words, “20 years too late”. As we will learn later, he is probably the only person I know whose will encounter the Smiths’ “Strangeways Here We Come” without having first heard “The Queen Is Dead”. Listening to our conversations has made him realise there is a gap in his knowledge which he is keen to fill. Consequently, when he stumbles upon the generator he is quick to realise that this could be his path to enlightenment.
The concept of the generator is straightforward. There is a book which has been assembled by a bunch of music critics and writers entitled “1,001 Albums To Listen To Before You Die”. It has been reissued four times, so there are actually 1,089 if you include the new additions in each version but don’t delete the ones replaced. Every day the generator presents the user with a random item from the list. The user has a day to listen and then the following day gets to “score” the album from 1 to 5 and comment. Once your score is recorded for that album, the next item is presented. And so on. The user can pause (for holidays, etc), but assuming he/she doesn’t, then the whole project will take three years to complete. Baz is going to attempt it. He has a subscription to Spotify, which gives him access to the albums, a 45 minute each way car journey to and from work everyday during which he can listen and a manic desire to demonstrate he can cut it with the big boys when it comes to talking music. Do Paul and I want to join in? Of course we do! So once a day, for the next four years, we will assemble together to discuss the respective albums the generator has given us…
Who we are
(Me, Paul and Baz at the O2 to see Halestorm/Bloodywood in November 2025)
At first sight we make an odd trio and Baz will on more than one occasion express amazement that he actually belongs to a WhatsApp group with the two of us. Paul and I are both accountants, a career which will bring out the sarcastic cynic in most people. I have been playing musical instruments since I was six and will listen to anything once, which has led me to have what some people might describe as “eclectic” taste, but which Paul will frequently refer to as “crap” taste. It does mean that I am a complete know-all and frequently describe my opinions as “right”. Paul is a hardened Northerner if you can imagine such a character actually coming from Watford. He likes his music loud and pumping and favours 90s bands (possibly in an attempt to come across as being younger than he is). Master of the single entendre and never afraid to lower the tone to depths hitherto unimagined, Paul is not afraid to tell it like it is. Baz is covered in tattoos, changes his hair colour roughly once a week and is possibly the gentlest and kindest person you could ever meet. He is also 20 years younger than Paul and myself. For this reason he will often be referred to by Paul and myself as “woke”.
In a further attempt to colour in our respective characters, the following is a representation of how we might review some well-known ditties:
Bohemian Rhapsody – Queen
Me – a stone-cold classic and anyone who disagrees with me is both wrong and a twat. *****
Baz – I liked it. I don’t know the band, but yes it was nice. It’s not really my thing but it’s interesting the way the parts merged together and lots of things going on. ****
Paul – Jesus it’s all over the place. It doesn’t know what it wants to be. One minute it’s a piano ballad, next minute there’s opera. Come on Freddie make up your mind! **
Imagine – John Lennon
Me – great melody, great lyrics, what more can you say? And the 5.1 surround sound remix is probably even better, if only I could get my head out my arse and listen to it. *****
Baz – I liked it. I don’t know the artist, but yes it was genuinely moving. I don’t know whether it’s three or four stars and the fact that I can’t give it 3.5 will bug me for the rest of the day. ***
Paul – Honestly it’s shit. There’s no beat and he’s got a really whiny voice. And the woke lyrics had me retching before I was off the driveway. *
Total Eclipse of the Heart – Bonnie Tyler
Me – Of course it’s shit but the fact that I got lucky in Roxy’s night club in 1983 to this means I will defend its artistic integrity to the hilt. And to annoy Paul…. *****
Baz – It’s OK. I don’t know the artist, but it was nice. Not really my thing if I’m honest, but harmless enough. Am I allowed to do 2.8?? ***
Paul – For fuck’s sake where do I even start. She can’t sing, it’s too long, it’s got those horrible 80’s synth sounds, it’s just shit. I bet Mick tells me it’s great because it’s in F sharp. *
Agadoo – Black Lace
Me – I’m as tolerant as the next man, but why is this even on the list? *
Baz – It’s OK. I don’t know the band and it just kind of washes over you. I think the lyrics might be tongue-in-cheek. Pleasant enough but it’s not really my thing. **
PL – Absolute banger! Push my pineapple! *****
The minor characters
Before leaping into the thick of it, the fact that this project is taking place in an office environment means inevitably there are hangers-on. Marcia warrants a brief mention for actually also starting the project – indeed her first album was Bob Marley’s “Catch a Fire” which is one of her favourites. Sadly her second album was one she didn’t recognise and consequently her project halted right there, with just another 1,087 to go. She will not be heard of again. Natalie, however, will be referenced from time to time. Natalie will attend all music discussions and belong to the WhatsApp group, mainly because she suffers badly from FOMO but she won’t actually join in because she doesn’t want to put the effort in. From time to time we will benefit from her vast musical knowledge which is based entirely on a love of just three artists: The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. At some point along the way she will regret this involvement…
The format
I do not intend to go into each album in detail and tell you what we all thought of it. The actual “1,001 Albums To Listen To Before You Die” book exists for that. None of us are professional music critics and each of us is frankly too opinionated to ever get a job as one. I should highlight as well that none of us has actually read the book. These are the highs and the lows, the memorable moments from our journey, the bits that made it all worthwhile. And loads and loads of swearing!!
The first ten days
Anyone embarking on anything like this needs to come roaring out of the blocks. You need a good opening run to make you think that this whole project is going to be worthwhile. We have told others about the generator – but everyone seems too daunted by the prospect of devoting four years of their lives to something like this. Fortunately, there are three of us, which means we can draw inspiration from each other and push each other on if one of us is having a bad week. After ten days we will in all likelihood know the titles of 30 different albums off the list and will therefore get a feeling for the task ahead. In fact after ten days all three of us have been drawn in. There is no going back now. We are here for the long haul. Baz sets the pace with “Let It Bleed” by the Rolling Stones on day one and Rage Against The Machine’s debut a day later. For some stupid reason he has decided he cannot give a five to any album he already knows and so gives both these a four, even though he tells us they are fives. I am also off to a flier with two fives and four fours rated in the first ten including “Close To The Edge” by Yes, “Aja” by Steely Dan and “Beautiful Freak” by Eels (which I confess is new to me but is wonderful). Only Paul is suffering: just one five and no fours in the first ten, but that five has been given to “Appetite For Destruction” by Guns ‘N’ Roses which is one of his all-time favourites. We are off and running!!
Artistic representation
33 albums in, Paul is given the debut album by Queens of the Stone Age. He likes the band and this album and gives it a 4. However he also poses the question as to why the compilers have picked this particular album by this particular band as in his opinion every other album produced by this band is better than this one.
As it will turn out “Queens of the Stone Age” is the only album on the list by Queens of the Stone Age. It’s almost as though the compilers felt they had to include some bands deemed influential but couldn’t single one album out and therefore went for the debut. This is not some random conclusion by us. No-one would deny that Tom Petty’s debut album is good, but he has released other, better albums, not least “Wildflowers”, “Full Moon Fever” and “Damn The Torpedoes”. The Blue Nile’s “Hats” is a masterpiece, so why go for their debut “A Walk Across The Rooftops”? Paul McCartney’s “Band On The Run” makes it in, but who would pick his debut album “McCartney” (the only other solo McCartney album listed) over albums like “Ram” or “Egypt Station”? The Black Crowes’ “Shake Your Money Maker” is fantastic, but surely the follow-up “The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion” is better? Clearly a lot of this is subjective and presumably the authors may be taking account influence, sales, chart positions or just the impact of an artist bursting onto the scene, but its more than a little baffling as to why certain artists are represented by their debut album only.
And if some bands need that kind of representation, what about the bands that should be represented but are not. A common cry throughout the project was “why is this even on here?”, especially when confronted with the likes of Hanoi Rocks. Dave Matthews Band, Weezer, Bon Iver, The 1975, Joe Jackson, INXS, Steven Wilson and Jellyfish are just some of the names missing that we felt should have been included. We know you can’t include everything, but some of the decision making seems dubious. Did we really need two Oasis albums or five (five!!!) Sonic Youth albums? Throbbing Gristle?? Loretta Lynn?? The issue here is not that we doubt the motives of the compilers – they are much better versed in the art of music criticism than we are. It’s just that there may be some absolute bangers out there that despite having completed the list we still don’t know about.
Leonard Cohen
By some curious freak of nature Baz manages to bag two albums by Leonard Cohen in his first twelve. Even more curiously, one of these, “Songs of Leonard Cohen” is also the first album I am allotted. As neither of us is that familiar with Leonard, he is one of the first artists we are able to “bond” over. Assuming that is the right term to use; it becomes clear over time that the list compilers believe Leonard to be essential listening, as there are no less than five of his albums on the list. Once Paul gets incorporated it becomes clear that we are generally all of the same kind of mind – namely, why?
Now Leonard is clearly a highly acclaimed poet and none of us would seek to argue otherwise. The issue is why he then took his wonderful poetry, decided to set it to some fairly average music and then further decide that he needed to sing it himself. None of us has scored anything by Len higher than a three (and in Paul’s case a two) and the general consensus appears to be that we all find him dull. The lyrics might be great – but the music and voice aren’t. Len seems to have fallen into the same trap that a number of other songwriters have fallen into, which is to assume that because they wrote the songs they are the only ones who should be allowed to sing them even though that isn’t where their talent lies (see also the Flaming Lips, The Only Ones, the songs in the Oasis catalogue not sung by Liam and, according to Paul, Bob Dylan). So maybe next time just publish in book form? What Len gives us however is something that will turn out to be a rarity: namely consensus. As things will turn out, while the three of us will all score many albums as a three, because they are pleasant but ultimately not to be listened to again, it is not at all often that we will all score something a five. Or indeed a one. It is far more likely that we will argue.
Why do we like what we like?
What is it that draws certain people to certain types of music? We all have some music that we really like and some music that we can’t abide. Sometimes we feel obliged to pass the former off as a “guilty pleasure” because we are all too aware that our audience will discern no artistic merit in it whatsoever and we fear the associated ridicule. And we are all too ready to point the finger and laugh at someone when we are that audience. The interesting thing here though is the audience reaction to something they don’t like, but do recognise that it has some artistic merit. The audience reaction in this situation will not be ridicule, but more likely “I just don’t get it.”
Take the example of My Bloody Valentine. There are three of their albums on the list and none of us managed to rank any of them higher than a 2. Yet they are critically acclaimed, and I have other friends who idolise them like the Second Coming. Baz’ comments on “Loveless” read “I just don’t get it. The Internet adores it but I just find it boring.” Paul’s comment on “m.b.v” states “they all sound the same and as equally bad as each other.” But somebody somewhere likes them. What drives this difference?
My own theory is that there is a point in your life which defines the music you will enjoy, which occurs when you are at your most receptive to new things. Lots of US artists will claim that seeing the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show in 1964 inspired them to become musicians. In the UK, David Bowie performing “Starman” on Top of the Pops was the trigger for many of the New Romantics. Interestingly, despite the age gap, Baz and I were separately exposed to an awful lot of Abba when we were kids, which may explain why we have similar “pop” sensibilities. I was slightly too young for punk which I suspect is why I am not a big fan of it and too old for the New Romantics which, although I liked some of the music, I despised for its focus on image. Curiously I remember watching Top of the Pops in 1980 and seeing a very ordinary-looking, keyboard-focussed band which I’d never heard of before performing a song which had a weird 13/8 time signature and no chorus. I loved it – it was clever, complex and yet with a great pop sensibility. It turned out to be Genesis playing “Turn It On Again”. I was hooked. So maybe this is what informs my musical taste. From that I could also conclude that somebody in a similar frame of mind in 1988, sick to death of Stock Aitken and Waterman might just hear My Bloody Valentine and go “this is brilliant”.
I asked the boys for their thoughts. Paul seems to confirm my theory – he confessed that when he was growing up, the band he remembers his parents playing was Sparks, especially “This Town Ain’t Big Enough For The Both Of Us.”. What drew him in was the percussion. His lightbulb moment was Adam and the Ants, a band also big on the percussion. So one might expect his highest-rated albums to feature percussion as a major feature and this is certainly true. Baz however, despite the exposure to Abba, dashes the theory completely by citing his “moment when I realised music could sound different” as being when he first heard the Backstreet Boys. And I don’t think that by “different” he meant “shit”.
Interestingly Natalie does not hesitate in citing her formative moment as seeing Wham! on Top of the Pops. This has put her off 1980’s pop for life…
Abbey Road
The highest rated album on the entire list at the time of writing is “Abbey Road” by the Beatles. It has been listened to and reviewed by over 23,000 people and has an average rating of 4.46. It is one of my favourite albums, certainly my favourite by the Beatles. Strangely neither of the other two has heard it, which is kind of understandable in Baz’ case (he’s only dimly aware of the band never mind the album) but less so in Paul’s case as he is old enough to have made at least a passing acquaintance with it.
Paul is the first person to be given “Abbey Road” (album 99) and obviously my reaction when he announces this is sheer jealousy given the crap I’ve had to listen to that morning. It’s a clear and obvious five and what a lucky fellow he is. But apparently not. Unbelievably Paul doesn’t rate it at all – “Come Together” and “Something” are “OK” but that song about the hammer? And the octopus’ garden, what’s all that about? And side two, well it just all runs together. It’s a three at best he announces and looks genuinely shocked at the look on my face.
This is insane. Even at this early stage in the game Paul has come out with some shite before but never on this scale. I cannot believe what I am hearing and even Baz and Natalie are shocked by the venom with which I am referring to him as a monumental twat. To compound matters, Paul gets all defensive – “Oh, you’ve just got eclectic taste that’s all.” “Eclectic??? It’s the fucking Beatles!!!” “Oh come on it’s not that great.” “Apart from the fact that me and the vast majority of 23,000 other people think it’s a masterpiece!!” Eventually he lapses into a sulk before confidently opining that we need to wait and see what Baz thinks when he gets it and that will decide the issue. “No it won’t. He might be equally wrong like you are!!”
Some nine months later Baz will get “Abbey Road”. Paul will clasp his hands together in prayer and anticipation that his thoughts will be confirmed. Baz will smile gently and quietly murmur “I really liked it. It’s getting a five.” Paul will look more crestfallen than a crest that has fallen a very long way and I will smile benignly because I have long since realised that silent smugdom is a damn sight more annoying than just punching the air….
Note: Anyone wanting to really get under the skin of the Beatles should read Ian MacDonald’s excellent “Revolution In The Head”. Be warned though – he clearly prefers John to Paul (an opinion which Baz and I disagree with) and he clearly has a very low opinion of all other artists with the possible exception of Brian Wilson (anyone who thinks the quality of Bob Dylan’s output “went into terminal decline” after 1966 has some serious questions to answer).
Popular
There are five artists with six or more albums on the list and you could probably guess who they are without me naming them. However, I will. Leading the way with nine albums is David Bowie. We all like Bowie (although I’m not big on his voice) – his nine albums score between 11 (“Heroes” and “Blackstar” – Baz letting the side and the Duke down here with threes) and 15 (“Station To Station” and “Hunky Dory”). Next up it’s the Beatles, with seven albums. We already know about Abbey Road, but I think its fair to say that we generally prefer the later stuff. “With The Beatles”, “A Hard Day’s Night” and “Rubber Soul” all come in at 10, while the later albums (you know which ones they are) are all 13+. So nothing too controversial so far…
Next up, though, it’s Bob Dylan, again with seven albums, but with the potential to split opinion. I have to confess here that Dylan is one of my favourite artists. When I was a kid my dad used to play him in the car on long journeys and although I never had a clue what he was on about I loved the sound of his voice. So for me, all seven albums are fives with the exception of “Time Out Of Mind” which is still a four. Paul however is the complete opposite. He simply hates Dylan’s “whiny, tuneless” voice and genuinely cannot fathom what I like about it. The exception is “Live 1966 (The Royal Albert Hall Concert)”: Paul genuinely likes Dylan going electric in the second half, but has to mark it down because of the first half acoustic section. The highest Bob will therefore get from him is a three. All eyes therefore are on Baz, who is new to Bob. Thankfully sanity prevails as Baz gives at least fours all round.
The final two artists, with six albums each, are the Rolling Stones and Radiohead. We all like the Stones (Baz and I perhaps more so than Paul) and the classic run of “Let It Bleed”, “Sticky Fingers” and “Exile On Main Street” all come in at 13. However, we are less enamoured with Radiohead. Baz and I have the same opinion of Thom Yorke’s voice that Paul has of Dylan’s and to me a lot of their music sounds sterile. And though we were all taken by surprise at the quality of “In Rainbows” which fetched a 12, it’s highly likely that none of us will be regular listeners going forward. What does all this prove? I don’t think there is any doubt that these five artists deserve to have this number of albums on the list. All of them are hugely influential and, in the case of four of them, have been going on for years, at least until they couldn’t (note: those younger people who think Radiohead haven’t been going for years should check their age – they formed over forty years ago), consistently producing music of the highest quality (okay, they’ve all had dips in form but those who believe that an artist’s early work is always the best should check out Dylan’s “Rough And Rowdy Ways” and the Stones “Hackney Diamonds”, both released this decade). Despite what minor criticisms the three of us may have, we would all find it difficult to point at five artists who are more representative of the whole timespan covered by this project than these and therefore you would expect to see their whole careers covered by the list. Interestingly, this is backed up by the global statistics: neither Dylan nor the Stones have an album in the global Highest Rated Twenty and Radiohead and Bowie only have one apiece. And actually we have awarded the full 15 to two out of the 35. All this would suggest that it is actually their reputations and longevity which drive their inclusion in the list, as opposed to individual moments of brilliance.
Serge
Baz has been triggered. It takes Paul and I a while to understand why – Baz’ album number 206 is by a band we’ve never heard of before called the Pogwees. It’s only when he gives us the album title – “If I Should Fall From Grace With God” that we realise that he’s talking about the Pogues, and only a couple of seconds after that to realise that what has triggered him will of course be the track “Fairy Tale of New York” and the presence of “that word.” Of course, we have to spend a few moments mercilessly taking the piss out of his pronunciation of the band’s name and confess ourselves aghast at the fact that he has clearly never heard of them. But then of course we have to debate the more serious issue.
Much has been made in recent years of the presence of the word “faggot” in “Fairy Tale of New York – indeed in 2020 the BBC decided to play an edited version as it deemed the offensive term not suitable for broadcast. This is the same BBC who banned a number of songs with war and bomb references during the 1990-1991 Gulf War because they were deemed “sensitive”, including “Atomic” by Blondie, “Walk Like An Egyptian” by the Bangles and even “Boom Bang-a-Bang” by well-known subversive Lulu. The BBC’s decision is probably little more than a kneejerk reaction to someone complaining, especially given that the song has been liberally broadcast by the BBC for more than thirty years without anyone in their “department for public decency” even noticing. Going back as far as 1973 when certain swearwords were much more frowned upon than they are today, Auntie regularly aired “Oh No Not Susan” by the Electric Light Orchestra which contains the line “It just don’t mean a fucking thing”, so it’s not like its known for picking up on these things. The BBC cannot therefore be regarded as a serious benchmark for what is acceptable or not. At least that’s what Paul and I think. It is highly unlikely therefore that Baz would have even picked up on it if the publicity surrounding it wasn’t already out there. Nevertheless we gently point out to Baz that much of the 1990’s rap he favours contains frequent use of the “n” word, amongst the almost constant references to bitches, hoes, killing people and the narrator’s massive schlong. Baz, while grudgingly accepting the point, will argue that the use of the “n” word is justified because the context is that all these poor rappers have had a hard time in the ghettos and it is part of the scene – but then Shane McGowan’s life as an Irishman in London wasn’t that much of a picnic by comparison, so where exactly should you draw the line? Personally I find all arbitrary discriminatory language offensive, but I do recognise that its use to make that very point in a particular context could be educational. I put that forward merely as an intellectual argument – obviously as a middle-aged white male my opinion counts for nothing. McGowan himself said he was merely using the word as a putdown and being one of the finest lyrical poets the world has produced he should know. Baz however is not having it – the Pogues’ masterpiece is docked a star purely because of the “f” word and is just a 4. I of course gave it a 5 and Paul awarded it a 4 because “it took a couple of tracks to get into it”, so it is generally loved as it should be.
Worse it to come though. There is a risk facing anyone of Baz’ generation or younger who strays into the realms of music from the last century, and this is to do with subject matter. The single biggest topic written about in popular music is, of course, love – but love can take many forms, from fond affection politely expressed at one end of the scale to unbridled lust at the other. Anyone who has studied David Coverdale’s lyrical output for the inappropriately titled Whitesnake will soon realise that 90’s rappers going on about how big their penises aren’t are rank amateurs in the language of getting it on compared to the Cov’s knack for putting the unsubtle into the unsuitable. However at least Big David has the decency to ensure the objects of his raging horn are the same age that he is. Not all artists are as generous.
Ever since Sonny Boy Williamson first penned “Good Morning Little Schoolgirl”, writers have occasionally strayed into “Lolita” territory. In 1956, a 22-year-old Johnny Burnette penned “You’re Sixteen, You’re Beautiful and You’re Mine.” Paul and I are of an age where we’ve heard it so many times we hardly pay attention to the words, but it’s still probably a lot to take in for Baz. It’s not alone – check out the 1977 Christmas double A-side number one by Paul McCartney & Wings (no, not “Mull of Kintyre”, the song on the other side which curiously isn’t on the Christmas playlists). One song alone along these lines might well put Baz into a funk – but what happens when he encounters an entire album devoted to it.
This happens fairly early on in the project when Baz encounters Serge Gainsbourg. Serge is best known in the UK of course for “Je T’Aime…Moi Non Plus”, recorded with his then lover Jane Birkin who was eighteen years his junior and who presumably had no issue with her orgasmic gasps being recorded for posterity across Serge’s amorous grunts. It is probably no surprise then that Serge, clearly at this point France’s more elderly answer to Prince, would record an entire album, “L’Histoire de Melody Nelson”, detailing the illicit relationship between our 43 year old chanteur and a fourteen year old girl he runs over in his Rolls Royce. And stick a semi-naked Jane on the cover. If you thought Baz was triggered by the “f” word, it is nothing compared to his reaction to this. After a good half hour struggling to regain the power of speech he confesses he couldn’t even make it to the end of the album (and it’s only 28 minutes long) and it only gets a 1 because he can’t give it zero, so incensed is he by the antics of Weird Uncle Serge. To be fair, Paul also gives it a 1 – not because of the subject matter but because it is (to use one of his best ever reviews of an album) “tres merde” and it only gets a 2 from me. But this is a significant moment in Baz’s musical journey, as he realises that music pushing the boundaries isn’t necessarily a good thing. Moreover it possibly distorts the rest of his project. From this moment on, something has to be truly shite for Baz to give it a 1 and his common refrain when having a bad day will be “it’s awful – but it’s getting a 2 because it’s not Serge”. The impact on him is clearly so great that Paul and I quickly decide to abandon our plan to buy him the album for Christmas, as he clearly won’t appreciate the joke. Not that Baz is any kind of prude of course. Perish the thought. Like Paul and myself, he has no issue with giving Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” a 5, thereby proving that provided you have a suitable proof of age certificate he sure loves to ball and is only too happy to get it on, baby, this minute, oh yeah, woo hoo…
“Oh we have both kinds, country and western…”
As everyone knows, the line above is taken from the Blues Brothers and is uttered by Bob’s (of Bob’s Country Bunker fame) wife to a bemused Jake and Elwood shortly before they attempt to foist their regular set on the locals. Needless to say, the locals aren’t impressed and soon the band are having to cover Stand By Your Man and the theme from “Rawhide”. The scene perfectly parodies the fact that fans of C&W don’t like, or even appear to be aware of, any other genre of music. This is the single most popular music genre in the world – but it appears to work on an all or nothing basis. Every (sorry, both) C&W fans I have met do not listen to anything other than C&W.
This unfortunately works both ways – Paul, Baz and I have listened to many different genres of music before starting this project, but C&W is not one of them. This may well be because we have pre-conceived notions concerning the presence of fiddles, banjos and lyrics that invariably involve my girl leaving me because I’m drunk and violent, the crops failing in the fields and the dog taking a shit in my hat. And unsurprisingly some of the albums we encounter will reinforce those notions. However we need to adopt an objective approach – one cannot simply dismiss something as “crap” based on received opinions. Or at least that’s what we are claiming – in reality, all three of us know deep down that we are not partial to a fiddle, a banjo and a moan…
There are 64 albums in the entire list which have the word “country” in their description. However the compilers like to throw every possible genre into the description as they can, so this number includes the stunning (12 out of a possible 15 points from us) “The Band” by The Band, described by the compilers as “rock, country, folk, psychedelic-rock”, as well as Dennis Wilson’s “Pacific Ocean Blue” which gets 13 out of 15 from us. Does this mean we like C&W after all?? We don’t think so – mainly because neither of these albums are what we would describe as “country”. Maybe “rural” in the case of the former and “beachy” in the case of the latter? Possibly? But we certainly we can’t see the patrons of Bob’s Country Bunker sticking either of these on the jukebox. So we are going to have to narrow the scope.
Thankfully the compilers don’t let us down. There are (un)fortunately many examples of what the three of us had in mind to be found in the list. Two of these will find their way into the all-time bottom 12 – those albums which only scored a total of 3 out of 15, ie, a 1 from each of us. These are Loretta Lynn’s “Don’t Come Home A-Drinkin’ (With Lovin’ On Your Mind)” and “The Grand Tour” by George Jones, two of the worst albums any of us has even heard and which contain every cliché you can imagine. The derision and scorn poured on these by all three of us is considerable. Waylon Jennings, Ray Price, Merle Haggard, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot and Buck Owens (“I’ve Got A Tiger By The Tail”? Really??) don’t fare much better and all our received opinions are confirmed.
Except…
Much to the disgust of Paul and Baz, I find myself being pulled in a certain direction. It starts with Lucinda Williams “Car Wheels On A Gravel Road”, to which I have to give a 4 (the other two brand it a 1 without further debate). Soon I have given “Red Dirt Girl” by Emmylou Harris and “Golden Hour” by Kacey Musgraves 5s and the boys are photoshopping ten gallon hats into pictures of me. I try in vain to plead that these albums are “not country” but they’re not having it. Worst of all is their realisation that I might like these albums because I am getting old. This is annoying because it might actually be true. I am the oldest of the three and I am well aware that, while a few years ago all these albums would have been too “easy listening” for me, they now sound “comfortable” and I am suddenly horribly aware of my own mortality. Not that I’m going to admit this to them of course – as far as I am concerned, they are both just narrow-minded and wrong and I am simply better at appreciating good songwriting than they are. They (possibly rightly) dispute this and label me “a twat”.
What this illustrates though is that one might find something to like in even the remotest of places. Stephen Stills’ “Manassas” is a case in point – a double album of varying styles of which side two is predominantly country and bluegrass. Baz was unable to get past this (and scored the whole thing a 1) which means he missed out on side four’s rock- and blues-influenced material which I believe he might have enjoyed. I can’t be too critical though, given how he had never heard of before he did actually embrace, coupled with my ongoing lack of enthusiasm for 1990’s rap and hip-hop. I guess the important thing is that you at least give it a go. As I said earlier, it is only after objective listening that one is able to fully criticise and all three of us is now definitely able to say that we think C&W, in its purest form, is appalling, because unlike many other critics we have actually listened to it.
The 16 worst albums to listen to before you die
I think I speak for all three of us when I say that the whole point of trying to complete the list was to discover stuff we hadn’t heard before that would really make us sit up and go “wow!” And we did discover an awful lot of stuff that did just that. Inevitably, though, we also encountered stuff that made us sit up and go “what the actual fuck?” One might like to think that albums that scored “the full three” (ie, one star from each of us) were nevertheless excellent in their own right and just not to our collective taste. However that is not the case – these sixteen albums really would be the pits in anyone’s collection.
Of course, there is much more fun to be had when one person really likes something that the other two think is awful – apart from anything else, the debates amongst the three of us tend to be more passionate. My liking of Lucinda Williams’ “Car Wheels On A Gravel Road” is referred to elsewhere; the sneering from Paul and Baz (who both gave it a one) is also etched on my memory. Similarly, I was so taken with The Streets’ “A Grand Don’t Come For Free” (I hadn’t heard it before but I liked the storyline and the impressive lack of guns ‘n’ misogyny that tends to characterise rap albums) that I gave it a five. Baz however disagreed, commenting: “I think it’s one of the worst things I’ve listened too. I hate how much he plays into the Cockney aspect and feel like he really hams it up, lyrically his links between lines are very poor and feel super forced, I don’t think the beats are that interesting… fine it tells a story, but it tells a story that I don’t think is very interesting. I also wish to state that I quite like spoken word rap (Scoobius Pip, Sage Francis and Aesop Rock being highlights) but this is just bloody awful.” So there you go. Who Scoobius Pip, Sage Francis and Aesop Rock are, Paul and I have no idea. However it is reason enough for us to call Baz a pretentious bellend (even though Paul is on his side with regard to The Streets). Other artists to get a thumbs up from me and a thumbs down from the others included Christine and the Queens (“Chris), John Cale (“Paris 1919”), Public Image Limited (“Metal Box”) and Mercury Rev (“Deserter’s Songs”). But it wasn’t all one-way – at least partly. Baz came over all soft and dreamy about Dizzee Rascal (“Boy In Da Corner”), Linkin Park (“Hybrid Theory”), Fugees (“The Score”), Kanye West (“My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy”) and several albums by individual members of the Wu-Tang Clan and was roundly scoffed at by the older generation for so doing. However, Paul had far fewer of these instances – only Echo and the Bunnymen’s “Crocodiles” and Metallica’s “Master Of Puppets” really stand out as albums he likes which Baz and I don’t. He claims this is because he is a far better judge of quality than Baz or I, but of course we think it’s because he is a twat not as receptive to new art forms as we are…
But when we unite, we stand united. Sixteen albums achieved one star from each of us, and these are:
| Throbbing Gristle | D.O.A. The Third And Final Report Of Throbbing Gristle |
| Loretta Lynn | Don’t Come Home A Drinkin’ (With Lovin’ On Your Mind) |
| Pere Ubu | Dub Housing |
| The Residents | Duck Stab/Buster & Glen |
| Sonic Youth | E.V.O.L. |
| The Birthday Party | Junkyard |
| Einsturzende Neubauten | Kollaps |
| Butthole Surfers | Locust Abortion Technician |
| Robert Wyatt | Shleep |
| John Zorn | Spy Vs. Spy: The Music Of Ornette Coleman |
| Dagmar Krause | Tank Battles |
| George Jones | The Grand Tour |
| The Incredible String Band | The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter |
| The United States Of America | The United States Of America |
| Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band | Trout Mask Replica |
| Joanna Newsom | Ys |
There are some interesting entries here. All three of us regard Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds as up there with the greats, but we’re all really pleased he left The Birthday Party behind. None of us was prepared to give Captain Beefheart’s “Trout Mask Replica” the requisite fifteen listens in order to “get it” – we just dismissed it after one listen with a cheery “this is crap” – although we all quite liked the other album of his on the list, “Safe As Milk. And I think we were all looking forward to The Incredible String Band’s contribution, given how influential they are said to be. Obviously this turned out to be influential in the “make sure you don’t make an album like this one” way. Interestingly all three of these albums and another six from the above feature in the global Lowest Rated twenty (and although we have gone for “Schleep”, the other Robert Wyatt album, entitled ironically “Rock Bottom” is also there). So reassuringly we are not alone in our loathing.
Of course, sixteen albums out of 1,089 isn’t actually that many. As mentioned elsewhere, Baz was forced to give two stars to a number of albums he felt were otherwise execrable because they were “not Serge”. Adding these in gives us another twelve, so if you were wondering why the above list does not contain the other Pere Ubu album (“The Modern Dance”), “Trafalgar” by the Bee Gees, “Third” by Soft Machine, “Sea Change” by Beck and “Gris Gris” by Doctor John, all of which are equally dreadful, this is why. And yes, Beck.
What happens when you finish
In the days before the internet, anyone wishing to access pornography generally had to walk into their local newsagent and acquire a hard-copy publication from the top shelf (usually purchased with a newspaper so you could hide the glossy mag inside it so that no-one would mark you out as a user on the walk home. Although if they did the standard response was to claim you bought it for the articles…). Clearly this was relatively tame stuff compared to the sort of thing available on the internet today. For a start it didn’t “move”. Yet it served some sort of social purpose; many a teenager’s first encounter with pornography was via a countryside hedgerow, which is where users would toss (pun absolutely intended given how the pages used to stick together) their magazines once they were “finished”. In fact the demise of hedgerow pornography is one very notable benefit from the rise of the internet; on the downside teenagers today have the altogether more daunting task of accessing their first glimpses of red hot action via Dad’s laptop, which does have the potential to leave one scarred for life.
However I digress. One curiosity of Playboy or Penthouse or whichever publication took your fancy was the section entitled Readers’ Wives. To anyone who has grown up in the internet age, this is probably going to sound “just plain weird”, but the Readers’ Wives sections in these magazines was literally just that: photos taken by husbands of their wives in various states of undress (including complete) and sent to the magazine for publication. With probably a £10 reward for all those published. What motivated anyone to even contemplate sending photos of their beloved in (other than the £10) is hard to fathom, but presumably these men regarded their other halves in the buff as the loveliest thing on earth and therefore felt compelled to share that loveliness with other men.
The problem of course is that none of the Readers’ Wives ever matched up to the standards of the glistening lovelies who posed for a living. A problem that wasn’t just down to the poor standards of photography being employed. Beauty is always in the eye of the beholder, but quality requires an objective view. Which brings us to the music and the whole reason for this preamble. Once you have completed the 1,001 album challenge, you can nominate one album which does not appear on the list and you can elect to listen to all the other nominations which other users have put forward once they have finished the original list. Now the original list does have its faults and not everything is a certified banger. However it does cover a wide range of musical styles and you always get the feeling that whatever the style, this is the best that style has to offer (however crap that style might be). It has also been decided on by a panel of experts who do this kind of thing for a living. In short, the original list is your genuine pornography. The nominated list however is very much the Readers’ Wives section: in short, fan favourites filtered through adoring ears. I can understand why all these albums might be someone’s favourite, but let’s be honest here, most of them do not really stand up to any scrutiny, something the piss-taker who put forward “Come And Get It” by Rachel Stevens presumably understood straight away. And
I’ll be honest I kind of wish I’d stopped at the end of the original list, because of the 63 albums that I managed to listen to before I got totally and utterly bored there was nothing really worth going back to. Although the memory of the look on Baz’ face when I explained the Readers’ Wives concept will stay with me forever, so maybe something good did come of it after all.
The other thing you can do on completing the project is select your favourite album from the list. This is far harder than you might think. Most music fans have at some point played “Desert Island Discs” and tried to select the eight songs they would take with them to a desert island. Personally I am unable to contemplate life with only eight songs to choose from and so my version permits ten albums. Even then it’s a struggle and the ten will change almost on a weekly basis. But having to pick just one from the entire list?
It actually ends up being easier than I thought it would be, probably because there is no ban on listening to anything else. I simply selected the album I thought was unlike anything that had gone before it and massively influential on everything that came after it, which in my opinion was Led Zeppelin’s debut. Incredibly over a year later Paul will choose the same album, after bemoaning the fact that picking one album out is a bit like picking a favourite child. At the time of writing we are the only two people to have completed the project who have picked this album as their favourite. Meanwhile, Baz decided Jeff Buckley’s “Grace” to be “as close to a perfect album as you can get”, and he’s probably not wrong.
Natalie
As mentioned in the opening section, Natalie is one of our colleagues with more than a passing interest in music in general and this project in particular. Although not enough interest to actually take part in the project – she says its because she doesn’t have time, but we think it is secretly because she might have to listen to music that doesn’t originate from California, Florida or Asbury Park, New Jersey. She does, however, join in with our daily discussions. Every day, the four of us assemble in the office at around 9am, whereupon Paul, Baz and myself will each name the album we have each listened to on the journey into work, talk about it and award it a score. If one of the others has already had it, they will undoubtedly weigh in with their opinions, for or against. And even if they haven’t, they may already be familiar with it and can therefore contribute arguments for or against, or even just help Baz with the pronunciation. On account of not participating, Natalie is limited in what she can contribute to a discussion on, say “Black Metal” by Venom, but given the opportunity she is more than happy to describe the Pet Shop Boys as “shit”, Neil Young as “awesome” and me and Paul as “older than her”. But what would her reaction be if, say, all three of us were to simultaneously be given some of her favourite recordings? And not like them?? The temptation is too great, so we decide to find out…
Obviously we can’t use albums that are on the list itself, so ignoring what we’ve actually listened to that day, we randomly assign ourselves “Tango In The Night” by Fleetwood Mac, “Wildflowers” by Tom Petty and “Desperado” by the Eagles, and wait for her arrival in the office. Settling into our daily chat and struggling to retain straight faces, I kick off by opining that Fleetwood Mac’s 1987 best-seller is “over-produced in a very 80s way” and therefore “lacks soul”. She takes it reasonably well, but once Baz starts opining that Tom Petty has a whiny voice and his songwriting is ”bland”, you can start to see the mist descend. By the time Paul has reviewed “Desperado” as “the worst kind of country shit I’ve ever been exposed to” and “so lacking a cutting edge you wouldn’t be able to slice butter with it” the gloves are off. “I can’t believe it”, she cries. “Three of the best albums ever and you’re giving them all 2s??” At this point, one of us says, “Anyway, enough of winding Nats up. Let’s talk about what we actually had today.” The silence is deafening. Then the three of us burst into fits. Natalie is so non-plussed she looks like a minus and is physically unable to speak for a good thirty seconds. Ironically, this is a record… (see what I did there!!)
She does eventually see the funny side, but it takes best part of four months. And yet, we’ve actually done her a favour. At least twice a week, she will witness one of us put to the sword by the other two, whether it be for disliking Haircut 100, not having much of an opinion on “Abbey Road” or thinking Kanye West is deserving of a 5. These are high-pressure situations where, to paraphrase Kipling, you have to trust yourself when all men doubt you, while making allowance for their doubting too. You have to hear the truth you’ve spoken twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools. You have to keep your head when all about you are losing theirs. At the end of the day, it’s character-building and Paul, Baz and myself will all gain from the experience of having to argue rationally in the face of ludicrous opposition. Generously, we have allowed Natalie to share in that experience and no amount of “I can’t believe you did that to me, you bastards” can hide the fact that, at the end of the day, she’s a better person because of us….
The 21 albums we are glad we listened to before we died
While none of us expected our tastes to align perfectly, I think that all three of us expected that we would end up liking pretty much the same things. Paul and I were confident that despite his youth Baz could not help but be charmed by the delights of pre-90s music and he was likewise confident that Paul and I would be persuaded of the merits of both East and West Coast hardcore rap. What we didn’t expect is that we would end up disagreeing on so much, to the extent that there are just 21 albums (less than 2% of the total) to which we have all awarded a five:
| Cheap Trick | At Budokan |
| Muse | Black Holes and Revelations |
| Bruce Springsteen | Born To Run |
| Calexico | Feast of Wire |
| Elton John | Goodbye Yellow Brick Road |
| David Bowie | Hunky Dory |
| Def Leppard | Hysteria |
| Supergrass | In It For The Money |
| Stevie Wonder | Innervisions |
| Led Zeppelin | Led Zeppelin |
| Marvin Gaye | Let’s Get It On |
| Doves | Lost Souls |
| Rush | Moving Pictures |
| The Darkness | Permission to Land |
| The Police | Reggatta De Blanc |
| Tears For Fears | Songs From The Big Chair |
| David Bowie | Station To Station |
| Pink Floyd | The Dark Side Of The Moon |
| Depeche Mode | Violator |
| The Who | Who’s Next |
| Pink Floyd | Wish You Were Here |
As previously mentioned, this level of disagreement could be at least partly attributed to Baz’ initial reluctance to award a five to any album he had heard before (which thankfully he got over when he realised how restrictive it was). However there is a simpler, in every sense of the word, reason: Paul.
Before he gets all defensive it should be highlighted that Paul has the lowest percentage of fives awarded – 6%, compared to me on 16% and Baz on 15%. Of the 32 albums which scored 14 over half dropped a point because Paul refused to give top marks, which is why “A Night At The Opera”, “Grace”, “Led Zeppelin IV”, “Otis Blue”, “Revolver” and “Rumours” are not listed above (“Revolver” famously docked a point because it has “Yellow Submarine” on it). And of course “Abbey Road” only scraped 13 because Paul only deemed it worthy of a 3. What a miserable bastard.
Paul will argue (and possibly with some justification) that he has higher standards than Baz and I do and greater critical faculties. The higher standards claim is arguable when you realise he gave a 5 to “You Are The Quarry” by Morrissey and is also a huge (and unlikely) fan of big band jazz. And his greater critical faculties are very well hidden; most of the album reviews Paul has left (and he hasn’t left many) are usually along the lines of “Garbage. Why is this even on the list??” (“Larks Tongues In Aspic” by King Crimson) or “Rubbish. Random sounds thrown together” (“Os Mutantes” by Os Mutantes).
However none of this should distract from the quality of the 21 albums we did all agree were masterpieces. Yes there are some “usual suspects” in there, but there are several albums in this list that I know Baz and Paul were hearing for the first time and certainly two that I was hearing for the first time. Which has to be what the project is all about; discovering brilliant new music (even if it isn’t actually new).
As a footnote, Baz and I awarded the full 10 to 68 different albums. Paul and I agreed on just 30 and Paul and Baz agreed on 34. Very few of these dated from 1990 onwards and none of them are East/West Coast hardcore rap, which would seem to indicate that at the highest echelons, Paul and I are winning the debate over Baz.