Even when it is working on your brain at full strength and the perspiration turns your skin into damp velcro, summer does not feel endless so much as it does abundant. It ends, it has to end, but when you are in an appropriately summery cast of mind, it feels like the vibrant blue sky stretches far enough to make that feeling abstract. The weeks sort of roll over without seeming to add up. Things are happening, but nothing of any great consequence. It is the third week of July for an entire month. And then, abruptly and inevitably, you are staring down the barrel of Labor Day, and the unapparent autumn air creeps in and you notice the sun is setting a little bit earlier, and there is the resumption of all the things that—while they never really went away—had previously been so easy to ignore. And if you are also familiar with this feeling, the overlap between the last days of dazed inconsequence and the increasingly less faint imitations of consequence’s return, then you will recognize the energy in
’s and my attempt at compiling a list of our Top 100 Albums.Now that we’re on our fourth week of chaos: Listening to each other’s picks, re-listening to our own, reacting in real-time to the next batch of each other’s selections, and posting our write-ups in hopes that you find new music, this absolute behemoth of a project has been a pleasant distraction from the world still being out there. This is how summer works. But this feels like the right thing to do is to greet that reality with some dope tunes.
Below, you’ll find my Top 100 Albums (from 70-61) and the reason why I chose them, as well as Kevin’s picks and my response to them. For Kevin’s explanations of his albums and his reaction to my picks, check out his list below (and subscribe to On Repeat!).
My #70: Rain Dogs - Tom Waits (1985)
Tom Waits could read the ingredients off of a ketchup bottle and it would sound fantastic. It’s debatable as to whether Rain Dogs is Tom Wait’s best work, but it’s the album I feel most comfortable with introducing him to first-time listeners. I’ve got friends who would say they love his “lounge” version more than his “cookie monster” guttural days, but each album of his tells a variety of stories and elicits a wide range of emotions that I’m happy to sink into and rise from. Rain Dogs is a great example of Tom Waits’s range vocally and musically, with themes, inspirations, and rumination of a man who has been at the bottom and dreamed of the blurry skies above him. Whether or not one could find this to be just a maudlin notion or not, I’m happy to listen and stumble and sing with him.
Highlights: Singapore, Clap Hands, Cemetary Polka, Jockey Full of Bourbon, Tango Till They’re Sore, Big Black Mariah, Hang Down Your Head, Union Square, Blind Love, Walking Spanish, Anywhere I Lay My Head
Kevin’s #70: The Unforgettable Fire - U2 (1984)
My Take:
I’ve never really been a U2 fan, but I will admit their early stuff goes pretty hard. I know Brian Eno produced The Unforgettable Fire, which made this album more ambient/atmospheric/haunting than their usual output, but it also was the beginning of their shift to their annoying and pretentious stadium rock era that made me despise U2 in the first place. I’m sure it’s a good album for those who like ‘80s rock and U2, but I’ll respectfully pass on this one.
My #69: Trans-Europe Express - Kraftwerk (1977)
People don’t realize the significance of this recording. Look up all the music released in the late-’70s and nothing comes remotely close. Trans-Europe Express functions on its own plane, and it’s weird to think of this album existing in the same world as David Bowie, and it gets even weirder when you consider this album came out in 1977: Disco was in full swing and punk rock just broke out. In that sense, this album is anachronistic. It’s like music people wish they could have made during the whole Art Deco movement. When it comes to pushing the boundaries of music artistically and technologically, Kraftwerk is essential. They helped advance the kind of sounds we could make and then showed us some creative and interesting ways to apply them. In that sense, they couldn’t help but be influential since the future of music is so closely entwined with the future of technology.
Highlights: Europe Endless, Showroom Dummies, Trans-Europe Express, Metal on Metal, Franz Schubert, Endless Endless
Kevin’s #69: Van Halen II - Van Halen (1979)
My Take:
I was obsessed with Van Halen and Van Halen II in high school, and as I’ve alluded to before, I’m not a fan of hair/glam metal, so this is a testament to Eddie Van Halen’s and David Lee Roth’s talents. I prefer their debut to II, but this is still a damn fine hard rock album.
My #68: Rumours - Fleetwood Mac (1977)
Rumours is kind of a lame album to do a write-up for—pretty much everyone loves it, and it’s one of the highest-selling albums in U.S. history. Although I do love the John Mulaney quote that describes it as “... an album written by and for people cheating on each other.” Fleetwood Mac was a band I’d always heard on classic rock radio growing up and took for granted, but once I hit a certain age and actually listened to Rumours, I realized it was time to do some coke and romantically betray my partner.
Highlights: Second Hand News, Dreams, Never Going Back Again, Don’t Stop, Go Your Own Way, The Chain, I Don’t Want to Know, Gold Dust Woman
Kevin’s #68: Graceland - Paul Simon (1986)
My Take:
If this was my girlfriend’s list of top 100 albums, this would be on there somewhere after Taylor Swift’s entire discography. Considering a Vampire Weekend album landed on my list, Graceland probably should’ve been included as well. It’s been said a million times that this album is a bridge between cultures, genres, and continents, but it is remarkable how natural of a synthesis these tracks turned out to be. All these musical strains of pop, rock, a capella, zydeco, and the South African styles of isicathamiya and mbaqanga are not nearly as different as listeners might have expected, which makes Graceland so resonant around the world and across generations. In that sense, Paul Simon was ahead of his time; he functioned as a curator of tracks from scraps of song and pre-existing recordings in a way that is closer to Kanye West than his contemporaries. Graceland is GOATed.
My #67: Rage Against the Machine - Rage Against the Machine (1992)
Rage Against the Machine came out of the gate as a fully formed band. Tom Morello’s guitar work here was groundbreaking, experimental, and unique, making use of noisy and weird effects that sound more like a turntable than riffs. Tim Comerford’s basslines aren’t complex, but they ooze coolness. Brad Wilk’s drum beats fuse rock and hip-hop. Zach de la Rocha’s voice is instantly recognizable, his delivery is bombastic and dynamic, and his lyrics are topical and layered, pulling no punches when he called out our corrupt government, the FBI, racist police officers, authoritarianism, power imbalances, and oppressive hierarchies.
The messaging of Rage Against the Machine is grim, aggressive, and cynical toward the American Dream and the idea of freedom in this country. They took American politics to task in a way that was rare at this level of mainstream exposure. It’s insane that this album dropped in 1992 because it just kicks you in the face. Criticize their “hypocrisy” or not, but they are as real and raw as you can get from a band that huge.
Highlights: Bombtrack, Killing in the Name, Bullet in the Head, Know Your Enemy, Wake Up, Freedom
Kevin’s #67: Rapture - Anita Baker (1986)
My Take:
I had never heard of this album until now, but this gives me fireside love muzak vibes with some jazz overtones. Rapture is full of brooding, slow-burn tunes and Anita Baker’s voice is husky and full of conviction. I can see why this was an ‘80s staple. “Sweet Love,” “You Bring Me Joy,” and “Caught Up in the Rapture,” are standouts.
My #66: Zombie - Fela Kuti (1977)
I discovered Fela Kuti after learning he was a major influence on the Talking Heads when they made Remain in Light. There are so many records of his that could’ve cracked this list (Expensive Shit, Water Get No Enemy, Gentleman, etc.), but Zombie is a great entry point to Fela Kuti and it might be the pinnacle of fusion and Afrobeat. The grooves are so infectious and they took Nigeria by storm, igniting Nigerians to follow Fela’s lead and antagonize members of the military by putting on a blank stare and walking with their arms afront while shouting “Zombie!” Fela Kuti pairs well with Stevie Wonder and a fat blunt.
Highlights: Everything
Kevin’s #66: Pirates - Rickie Lee Jones (1981)
My Take:
Upon doing some background research on this album, I learned that Pirates is partially an account of her break-up with Tom Waits, and I can detect some influence of Waits’s ‘70s jazzy era sprinkled across this tracklist. There are also shades of Astral Weeks, Court and Spark, and The Wild, the Innocent, and the E-Street Shuffle in that Pirates weaves autobiography and personal myth to create a compulsive narrative. I was pleasantly surprised with this one.
My #65: Ys - Joana Newsom (2006)
There is only before hearing Ys and after. I understand Joanna Newsom is an acquired taste, especially in terms of her admittedly weird vocals. But on this album, Joanna switches between formalism and casual, her folksy delivery shifts with the compositions. Yes, the songs are long, but the orchestration is beautiful, and every labyrinthine melodic detour feels necessary. How does one even conceive of something like this? It’s as if she crossed over from some other dimension.
It’s almost impossible for me to put on Ys and feel bad, and this was one of a dozen or so albums that protected my mind from completely spiraling during quarantine. The line “dumbstruck with the sweetness of being ‘till we don’t be” will stay with me forever. Almost 20 years out, Ys is firmly established as one of the definitive and influential indie albums of the aughts.
Highlights: Everything
Kevin’s #65: Sound of Silver - LCD Soundsystem (2007)
My Take:
LCD Soundsystem is one of my favorite bands—their first three albums are legendary—so Kevin’s selection of Sounds of Silver in such high regard makes me so happy. This album taps into decades’ worth of punk, post-punk, dance, krautrock, electronica, and disco, and synthesizes them into a handful of irresistibly catchy tunes. I can listen to Sound of Silver in any mood and it will feel like it fits: I can dance to it, listen to it in a self-pitying funk, while I’m happy, or as background music.
My #64: Head Hunters - Herbie Hancock (1973)
Listening to Headhunters for the first time completely freed my mind; it’s boundary-pushing, and above all, fun and funky. The music will blow open your skull the second the bassline from “Chameleon” comes out. One of the things I love about Herbie is how open-minded he is to different styles, as this dropped in the wake of Miles Davis’s turn toward electric music.
Headhunters draws from the politics of the Watts Riots and Black Nationalism and the counterculture. The music contains the downbeat of ‘70s funk, the looseness of cool jazz, the musical modes of R&B, the rhythms of Anlo-Ewe, Afro-Cuban drumming, and modular synthesizers. This record was so fundamental for jazz, funk, fusion, soul, and R&B. Headhunters made me fall in love with jazz and heady music in general. I had never heard something like this before or had thought music could be approached in this way.
Highlights: Everything
Kevin’s #64: For That Beautiful Feeling - The Chemical Brothers (2023)
My Take:
I remember this album placing in Kevin’s top five albums of 2023, so that would mean four more albums from 2023 would have to be on the remainder of his list, or his love for For that Beautiful Feeling has grown exponentially since then. I also trashed Apple Music’s list for including SZA’s S.O.S.—which I do think is a great album—and Taylor Swift’s 1989 (Taylor’s Version) on their Greatest 100 Albums list despite being released in the last year, so Kevin is putting me in an ethical bind here. I’m not super familiar with the Chemical Brothers, but I’d lean toward Dig Your Own Hole and Surrender due to their lasting appeal and influence on electronic music, but I can’t hate on For that Beautiful Feeling because it is a stellar album.
My #63: Plastic Beach - Gorillaz (2010)
I lived near a bunch of stereotypical Gilmore Girls-style beach towns in Connecticut—and there would be nothing to do from post-Labor Day to Memorial Day—but one of my favorite memories is driving along that empty beach on a sunny fall day blasting “Empire Ants” in my Saab 9-3 just absolutely blissed out. Plastic Beach has aged so well, both sonically and thematically. The synths still slap.
The concept came about when Damon Albarn visited a landfill in Mali and observed how differently garbage was treated compared to London: “more snakes... like adders, grass snakes, slow worms, toads, frogs, newts, all kinds of rodents, all kinds of squirrels, a massive number of squirrels, foxes, and obviously, seagulls. ... This is part of the new ecology. And for the first time, I saw the world in a new way. … the idea that plastic, we see it as being against nature but it’s come out of nature. We didn’t create plastic, nature created plastic.” Name another record that goes from Snoop Dogg to Bobby Womack to Lou Reed, plus members of The Clash and Little Dragon, and the Lebanese National Orchestra, while blending perfectly into Damon’s kaleidoscopic vision.
Highlights: Welcome to the World of the Plastic Beach, Rhinestone Eyes, Stylo, Superfast Jellyfish, Empire Ants, Some Kind of Nature, On Melancholy Hill, Sweepstakes, To Binge, Pirate Jet
Kevin’s #63: I Against I - Bad Brains (1986)
My Take:
Bad Brains is one of those bands that puts out an amazing debut album and follows it up with some quality releases, but everyone just wants a repeat of the debut. I was obsessed with Bad Brains in high school; it was a force and it came at breakneck speed. And while their self-titled album contained elements of dub and reggae, I Against I is gripping, heavy, and futuristic—or their least punk album to date. While I dabbled in I Against I in high school, I gave this one a spin and I forgot how metal-influenced this album is (do I detect hints of Van Halen??) but this is a quality record.
My #62: Doolittle - Pixies (1989)
Doolittle established Pixies’s loud/quiet dynamic and more or less laid the groundwork for ‘90s alternative rock. It’s more even keel than Surfer Rosa, foregoing the harsh live sound of Steve Albini for a more lush and almost folksy mood.
At heart, the Pixies are kind of an American goth band, fascinated by rural violence, the sexual magnetism of strangers who wander into roadside cafés, creepy innkeepers, and the intersection of lust and anger. The songs here take aim at good and evil, environmental run, Bible stores, and death. Listening to Doolittle is like attending an oblique gospel, and you hope one day you’ll break free from our earthly bonds and ascend. Like many people my age, I discovered the Pixies through Fight Club, and this album was a gateway for me into indie/alt-rock of the ‘80s and ‘90s.
Highlights: Debaser, Tame, I Bleed, Here Comes Your Man, Dead, Monkey Gone to Heaven, Mr. Grieves, There Goes My Gun, Hey, Gouge Away
Kevin’s #62: Black Love - Afghan Whigs (1996)
My Take:
I loved Gentleman in high school and viewed it as a pivotal ‘90s alt-rock album and a perfect listen for a broken heart. I wasn’t really familiar with the Afghan Whigs outside of that, so I gave Black Love a chance. It’s an enjoyable and well-crafted rock album with some vintage soul and funk influences, but I still prefer Gentleman. “Blame, Etc.,” “Going to Town,” and “Bulletproof” are standouts for me.
My #61: Elephant - The White Stripes (2003)
Elephants has everything you could ask for in a modern rock record. It’s a work of pulverizing perfection and a vital album in the development of my taste in music. I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to “Black Math,” but it never gets old—the shot of adrenaline straight to the heart when the guitars go from crunchy to metal and Jack White has his rock god moment. “The Air Near My Fingers” is Beck meets Zeppelin. This was the White Stripes’s On Top of the World album: “The Hardest Button to Button” appeared on the Simpsons; “Ball and Biscuit” was in every whiskey ad known to humankind; “Girl, You Have No Faith in Medicine” was in the EA Skate video; and, of course, even casual sports fans have heard the bassline from “Seven Nation Army” at least a hundred billion times. Elephants has an eloquence, barbarism, tenderness, and sweat-drenched vitality to it, making it one of the defining albums of the 2000s garage rock revival.
Highlights: Seven Nation Army; Black Math; There’s No Home for You Here; In The Cold, Cold Night; Ball and Biscuit; The Hardest Button to Button; Little Acorns; Hypnotize; The Air Near My Fingers; Girl, You Have No Faith in Medicine
Kevin’s #61: 16 Lovers Lane - The Go-Betweens (1988)
My Take:
Kevin sure loves his Aussie rock. I had never heard of the Go-Betweens, but this album is infectious. The songs are angst-ridden and angular and ironic while being soft and sensitive. The vocals are wistful, the melodies are honey, and the tunes are direct and accessible. This is worth checking out for anyone who likes jangle pop.
Kevin and I also created a Spotify playlist of one song from each of our album picks. Check it out!
Man do I love Raindogs.
Great list and write up, really enjoyed the series so far. Also “Empire Ants” is an absolute banger of a tune. Was lucky enough to get to see that played live at Benicàssim festival with Little Dragon.