Just like many people I know, this record loves Jesus but also likes to have a drink and smoke a little weed.
Aftermath is almost 51 years old. Think about that for a moment; 51 years in the future is the year 2068. Damn.
There is never an overpowering sense of twang or bluegrass or honky tonk or western swing, but all of those elements live in harmony with the sound on this album.
My knowledge of Leon Russell is very limited: I know that he is greatly respected in the music world; I know he has worked with some of the greatest musicians to walk the Earth; I know that my uncle tells a story about sleeping with his wife one time.
The four songs on the two 45rpms that make up Why Don’t We Duet In The Road are as classic as classic country music can get.
Hefti in Gotham City sounds like you have been teleported back in time to New York City in the mid-1960s and have wandered into a big band jazz club filled with men in suits, cigarette smoke, expensive cocktails, and gorgeous women.
Killer Mike and El-P create a hip hop sound like no other. Run The Jewels 3 is an album you can put on the turntable and jam.
This record can be summed up in three words: polished garage rock.
The cry of the pedal steel on I’m Not The Devil is sometimes heartbreaking; the fiddle solos somehow make you feel lonely; the lyrics can cause a sadness to well up inside that waters your eyes, but brings along with it a small grin.
There is a lightheartedness to the music that makes it great to turn up loud and lose yourself in the 80s glam.
I want to get drunk to this record. I want to cry with this record. I want to make love to this record.
The Stage sounds like Andrew Lloyd Webber dropped acid, went to a Rush concert, and decided to hire metal musicians to play the soundtrack to his drug-induced visions.
This record is Memphis soul, Delta blues, and party jam band all wrapped into one big and bold sound.
Willie and the Poor Boys jams when it comes to rocking out on a piano and can hold its own against any similar record.
In the immortal words of Cherlene, “OUTLAW COUNTRY!!! WOOO!!!!”
There is an intensity to the music that will cause your pulse to race and your senses to heighten.
It is the type of album that you listen to with your friends while wearing black t-shirts and playing pool in a smoke-filled basement with that one overweight girl there in the corner because she just wants to be included.
Reata is haunting. The music hangs heavy in the air and it allows you to breathe it in.
This EP is an amazing tribute to a fan.
Shooter Jennings is cut from the same cloth as his father, so if you like Waylon you will like Shooter.
If you have been missing Rage Against The Machine, this is the closest you are going to get.
One word: timeless.
It is a collection of songs that will allow you to sit alone with a beer and think about loves you have lost, maybe make a tear well up, and help you feel like you are better off without them in your life; it does everything a good country album should do.
This is not blues-virtuoso-Gary Clark Jr., this is soulful-take-you-to-church-Gary Clark Jr.
As a listener, you get the chance to hear part of Butch’s creative process.
Ghosts is definitely and unmistakable an album from the 70s.
Brother O’Brother is not playing dress up and doing their best to imitate other, more famous, two-piece rock bands. Brother O’Brother is an amalgamation of those bands with their own special flare.
Little Seeds ends on a low and sad note. This LP is an emotional trip.
This is a solid record that satisfies an itch for new music that sounds like old music. Also, I imagine that this album sounds better with a little marijuana.
Make your kids listen to this album and have them look up the stories behind the songs. Hell, you and I should do the same.
Popestar sounds like nothing else in music right now.
Brent Cobb is a country folk singer. But more than that, he sounds like John Denver’s ghost made a baby with James Taylor and they named that baby Brent Cobb.
The songs are dirty and rough; they make you grit your teeth and pump your fist.
It sounds like the soundtrack to a heavy metal haunted house.
I like sad songs. This may become my new go-to 45 when I’m down.
Most of this album sounds like it is straight out of the 50s.
It is very Blondie-esque, but not as legendary.
It sounds like a group of friends having a good time pickin’ and grinnin’ on the porch, but their supreme professional talents keep this record from sounding subpar.
I thought I was buying a cheap unknown album for the fun of it and instead I was pleasantly surprised to find that I bought an LP recorded by a musical great.
Pearl Jam moves seamlessly between the grungy 90s alternative sound to the blues into modern jam band style and finally to their famous Eddie Vedder vibrato-laden ballads.
I am sure that the people in the studio were not aware of the fact that they were witnessing a legend create musical magic.
If I had to place it in one specific section of a record store I think it would go in with the country albums……or maybe indie. Or maybe it would go in the music-your-sister-in-college-and-her-hot-friends-love section.
There is Southern rock, blues, country, and vocal harmonies à la The Beach Boys.
Lyrically, this album is a little dark and heavy and it totally works.
It is doom metal lite: all the evil, half the calories.
The fact that Whiskey Myers exists in 2016 and not in 1977 is pretty strong evidence that time travel is possible.
It is a good song. It is a fun song. It is a happy song. It is a jam band song. It is a Dead song.
Just when you think the new waviness is too much Countach (For Giorgio) brings you back to a traditional outlaw country sound for a bit.
This record is the antithesis of high energy
This album sounds modern, but it is not trapped in a specific time frame.
For most of Stay Gold Butch has a Springsteen-ness about him that is hard to explain, but it definitely exists.
If you have a turntable at the place you stay at while visiting the beach you definitely need to take this record with you.
This is the type of record you put on the turntable when your mom or grandmother comes over for tea.
It is a country legend paying tribute to the most important man music has ever seen, so it can’t be categorized as bad.
The songs that fill this record were hits for a reason; you can tap your toes, nod your head, and sing along.
California Nights sounds like the soundtrack to a 90s teen comedy.
It sounds like Jimi Hendrix and The White Stripes had a baby.
Maria Brink’s vocals go from softly singing to violently screaming quickly and seamlessly.
Listening to this album makes me wonder how many artists and albums were lost in the shuffle during the 80s.
If you have ever said “I can’t stand the crap that is on country radio these days,” you need to own this album.
There is not a lot of overproduction on this album. It sounds unrefined and gritty, but also clean at the same time.
Unden!able is hard, fast, pounding metal. It is the type of album that I’d want spinning in the weight room when I played football in high school.
There seems to be less polish and less production on this album and more straightforward rock n roll.
If you like Korn, Disturbed, and early Staind you will like this album.
The amount of sound that is produced by just two guys is remarkable. Some two piece bands feel like they are lacking, but not Black Pistol Fire.
They are part 80s synth pop, part 60s/70s psychedelic rock, and part 90s jam band.
They are the too-cool-for-school, I’m-from-New-York-so-you-wouldn’t-understand-type of rock
This is the most country that you will ever hear Jack White
It sounds familiar and unique at the same time.
This album is less of the swamp music sound that is associated with Creedence Clearwater Revival and is more of a soulful jam band sound.
Highly Suspect sounds like a two-piece garage band had a one night stand with a three-piece punk band.
This album is not just good 50s/60s rock n roll, it is also American history.
It sounds as if punk garage rock has been run through a filter of 1950s poodle skirts and bobby socks and then heavily distorted.
I am pretty sure that I am 1% blacker because I listened to this album.
It sounds the way it should. It is heavy where it needs to be and filled with catchy tunes that will make you nod your head in time
Owning this 45 makes me wish that I owned a jukebox. And a bar. Or maybe a bowling alley.
Have you ever been in the mood to smack a tourist in the face with your skateboard as your ride down the boardwalk in Long Beach? Well, just in case that urge comes over you, this is your soundtrack for such an occasion.
It is soulful funky blues with a little country spice.
The good reverend is rockabilly/Texas psychobilly, but the two songs on this 7″ are not the normal rocking and fast-paced songs that the band is known for.
Vocally, Hank III sounds like his grandfather, Hank Williams, Sr., and his voice fits perfectly with songs about moonshine, drug abuse, and drinking problems.
It is a fun listen because Ghost really sucks you into their thematic theatrical arena and makes you feel as though the Crowned Princes of Hell are preparing to come out of your speakers……..or something like that.
There is no semblance of order on this record.
Had a stressful day? Put this on the turntable and just relax.
This record has the energy of a band operating as a well-oiled machine and cranking out hit after hit, but it is performed with just a few people in the room.
Sleeptalk/Dinner Date is college indie rock; it is your sister’s new favorite band; it should be featured in the next season of Girls.
If I told you this album was a black blues singer from the bayou named Smokey Bones Washington, you’d believe me.
Shaman’s Harvest is not the second coming of the Beatles or Aerosmith or U2 or any other major band you can think of; they are a just a solid working band.
There is a technicality to Trivium’s brand of rock n roll that appeals to the guitar magazine reading music geek while also being inviting to the casual metal fan.
Seriously, it is hard to sit still while listening to this record.
This LP is as if Culture Club went to Jamaica and recorded an album in the summer of 1986.
Put this album on and sit and listen to a white Englishman sing the black man’s blues with grace, style, and class.
Brittany Howard takes you to church; it is a small church with bad lighting, blown speakers, and terrible acoustics, but it is church.
It is as if Deap Vally was formed in the laboratory of a mad musical scientist.
Lo-fi, raw, make your grandma say a prayer for you black metal
A lot more flair than his previous records
Folky Americana rock with soul
Rob Zombie rap about aliens, UFOs, and sex
Heavy, but not scream-y
An album that you can put on when your grandparents come to visit
Three styles of Jack White