ILM's Now For Something Completely Different... 70s Album Poll Results! Top 100 Countdown! (Part 2)

73. AMON DUUL II Tanz der Lemminge (2464 Points, 16 Votes, 1 #1)
RYM: #166 for 1971 , #4689 overall
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/417/MI0002417294.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
http://open.spotify.com/album/2zAGDXvAXbttYb7lpW5w6u
spotify:album:2zAGDXvAXbttYb7lpW5w6u

...the curious cosmic space-out "The Chasmin Soundtrack" (on TANZ DER LEMMINGE) which pre-empted The Cosmic Jokers. There's lots of other classic material on these doubles (naturally!) And, let's not forget the weirdly twisted songs that were as surreal as the music they were contained in! There's so much weird invention in these records that eludes some, especially in the use of electronics and collage, all woven into forays of guitars, violin, drums and magnificent keyboards. These records sizzle and astound as much today as they ever did. -- Cosmic Egg

This was the first Amon Düül II record I ever bought and I loved it, so I was surprised to read Julian describing it as a piece of ‘pedestrian shit’ several years later in Krautrocksampler. If you like the other Amon Düül II records and have been avoiding this one because of Julian’s comments I’d just like to say it’s worth checking out. As far as I’m concerned this record is far superior to its muddily produced follow-up ‘Carnival In Babylon’.

Chris Karrer gets side one and titles it ‘Syntelman's March Of The Roaring Seventies’. It’s supposedly subdivided into four parts but sounds much more fractured than that to me. The whole thing works as an apocalyptic glam suite. Many of the stylings here are 'The Man Who Sold The World' Bowie, right down to the vocal warblings and high-camp melodrama. Song structure is fractured, with sudden asides crashing in for a few seconds to be replaced by a differently arranged piece of music. Acoustic and electric guitars are given equal prominence here, when on some other Amon Düül II records it sounds like they’re fighting it out. 

John Weinzierl’s side two has a track listing I can’t get to grips with as it’s so hopelessly divided and subdivided that following which track is which is nigh on impossible. The music here lurches from Led Zep heavy guitar riffing to eastern European-sounding cross-legged weepy pastorals with no warning. And it works! Oh yes it DOES! Instrumentation is expanded to include sitar, all manner of electronic keyboards and even the odd bit of Liberace piano bashing! Renate sings her heart out in the most heart-wrenching way and some of the guitar picking is exquisite. 

‘The Marilyn Monroe-Memorial-Church’ is undoubtedly the highlight of this set in which Amon Düül II play some of their spaciest kosmische Musik. It sounds like some of the Cosmic Jokers’ quieter and less effects-laden moments or Ash Ra Tempel in drift mode with a dash of 'Affenstunde' bash-freakout. But as it’s Amon Düül II playing it can’t help coming out all autumnal and strangely ritualistic and, well goddamn creepy. The organ is funereal but poignant rather than maudlin. A bass carries us along, occasionally reverbing out so much it sounds like Lothar Meid has suddenly been dropped down a well. A mournful piano suddenly starts to collapse into keyboard abuse, now and then falling into that same well only to be hoisted up and thrown back in. But when the drums kick in your head is taken on a frantic ride. It feels like someone’s put a metal bin on your head and started laying into it with all the fury they can muster. Then it all seems to go down the same plughole that ‘A Day In The Life’ does only to resurface briefly in the same way as Can’s ‘Bel Air’

Side four sounds like out-takes from demo sessions rather than inspired improvisation. ‘Chewing Gum Telegram’ breaks the mood of uneasy calm inspired by ‘The Marilyn Monroe-Memorial-Church’ with its incessant riffing, falling apart like the rehearsal it sounds like all the way through. ‘Stumbling Over Melted Moonlight’ starts off as Pink Floyd’s ‘Sysiphus’, falling into a load of head swaying wibbly guitar onanism to be followed by Floydy organ and metallic tremolo drums. It goes nowhere, then can’t even decide to stay away as it resurfaces for no apparent reason. ‘Toxicological Whispering’ lurches along. Each instrument does its own thing and it really sounds like one of the few things Amon Düül II did where they weren’t listening to each other. There is beauty in the chaos here, though. Although, placed after the first two tracks on this side it’s bound to sound more special than it truly is.

In the notes to his Krautrock Top 50 Julian says: “Of course, this list is not exhaustive and is based on the records that I personally know and love.(…) And if I missed your favourite one out, well excuse me.” Fair enough, but I thought a case should be made for this record as it’s my favourite Amon Düül II release after 'Phallus Dei' and I’m sure there are others out there who have a fond connection to this album too. I personally think side four isn’t even worthy of curiosity value but that still leaves three sides of pretty good Krautrock.  -- Lord Lucan, Head Heritage

review
[-] by Ned Raggett

There aren't many double art-rock albums from the early '70s that have stood the test of time, but then again, there aren't many albums like Tanz, and there certainly aren't many groups like Amon Düül II. While exact agreement over which of their classic albums is the absolute standout may never be reached, in terms of ambition combined with good musicianship and good humor, the group's third album, is probably the best candidate still. The musical emphasis is more on expansive arrangements and a generally gentler, acoustic or soft electric vibe; the brain-melting guitar from Yeti isn't as prominent on Tanz, for example, aside from the odd freakout here and there. You will find lengthy songs divided up into various movements, but with titles like "Dehypnotized Toothpaste" and "Overheated Tiara," po-faced seriousness is left at the door. The music isn't always wacky per se, but knowing that the group can laugh at itself is a great benefit. The first three tracks each take up a side of vinyl on the original release, and all are quite marvelous. "Syntelman's March of the Roaring Seventies" works through a variety of acoustic parts, steering away from folksiness for a more abstract, almost playfully classical sense of space and arrangement, before concluding with a brief jam. "Restless Skylight-Transistor Child" is more fragmented, switching between aggressive (and aggressively weird) and subtle passages. One part features Meid and Knaup singing over an arrangement of guitars, synths and mock choirs that's particularly fine, and quite trippy to boot. "Chamsin Soundtrack" exchanges variety for a slow sense of mystery and menace, with instruments weaving in and out of the mix while never losing the central feel of the song. Three briefer songs close out the record, a nice way to get in some quick grooves at the end.

Such a good album too

oooh

72. THE GROUNDHOGS Thank Christ For The Bomb (2495 Points, 19 Votes)
RYM: #117 for 1970 , #3542 overall
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/842/MI0001842021.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
http://open.spotify.com/album/5AnSUP7g2xmTzamSux1F7K
spotify:album:5AnSUP7g2xmTzamSux1F7K

If you dig: Blues Rock, Hard Rock, Prog. Released in 1970 and entered the UK Top 10, marked a further progression in the direction of heavier Rock when the band also added politically and socially charged lyrics.

"Strange Town" starts things off brilliantly as McPhee's wailing guitar bursts into one of the best solos I've yet to hear. The long and half instrumental "Garden" again makes a great use of McPhee's axe while the title track, characterized by acoustic guitar and ambiguous pro/anti-war lyrics, shows that an electric guitar is not a necessity in order to play "heavy," although later on the song does turn into a thunderous jam. Other tracks worth mentioning are "Eccentric Man" and the sophisticated "Soldier." A highly recommended album which is second to none in its intelligence within the Blues Rock genre. -- R. Chelled

Tony McPhee stepped up to the plate with a bunch of powerful, original tunes. As a guitar album it is nonpareil, up there with Television's Marquee Moon and it's raw plangent sonics, uncluttered by effects sound bang up-to-date. -- Woebot

review
[-] by Dave Thompson

Thank Christ for the Bomb was the first Groundhogs album to indicate that the group had a lifespan longer than the already-fading British blues boom suggested. It was also the first in the sequence of semi-conceptual masterpieces that the group cut following their decision to abandon the mellow blues of their earlier works and pursue the socially aware, prog-inflected bent that culminated with 1972's seminal Who Will Save the World? album. They were rewarded with their first ever Top Ten hit and purchasers were rewarded with an album that still packs a visceral punch in and around Tony McPhee's dark, doom-laden lyrics. With the exception of the truly magisterial title track, the nine tracks err on the side of brevity. Only one song, the semi-acoustic "Garden," strays over the five-minute mark, while four more barely touch three-and-one-half minutes. Yet the overall sense of the album is almost bulldozing, and it is surely no coincidence that, engineering alongside McPhee's self-production, Martin Birch came to the Groundhogs fresh from Deep Purple in Rock and wore that experience firmly on his sleeve. Volume and dynamics aside, there are few points of comparison between the two albums -- if the Groundhogs have any direct kin, it would have to be either the similarly three-piece Budgie or a better-organized Edgar Broughton Band. But, just as Deep Purple was advancing the cause of heavy rock by proving that you didn't need to be heavy all the time, so Thank Christ for the Bomb shifts between light and dark, introspection and outspokenness, loud and, well, louder. Even the acoustic guitars can make your ears bleed when they feel like it and, although the anti-war sentiments of "Thank Christ for the Bomb" seem an over-wordy echo of Purple's similarly themed "Child in Time," it is no less effective for it. Elements of Thank Christ for the Bomb do seem overdone today, not the least of which is the title track's opening recitation (a history of 20th century war, would you believe?). But it still has the ability to chill, thrill, and kill any doubts that such long-windiness might evoke, while the truths that were evident to McPhee in 1970 aren't too far from reality today. [Originally issued in 1970, the LP was reissued on CD in 2007 and features bonus tracks.]

wow the great stuff coming thick and heavy now...

as it has been doing for a good while now tbf

So many great albums, so many new things to keep up with.
Betty Davis - Nasty Gal turned out to be great. AG is there any particular Ohio Players album that you would suggest to start with?

Going to give the Popul Vuh album a try too.

Ohio Players are split up into Westbound era (with Junie) I'd say try Pleasure

As for the later stuff any of them in this poll but maybe try Honey

Nice one, thanks.

71. VAN HALEN Van Halen (2506 Points, 18 Votes)
RYM: #16 for 1978 , #711 overall | Acclaimed: #255 | RS: #415 | Pitchfork: #73
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/224/MI0002224539.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
http://open.spotify.com/album/7G2PY8yve3Db0PeGsosb4x
spotify:album:7G2PY8yve3Db0PeGsosb4x

For some reason Warners wants us to know that this is the biggest bar band in the San Fernando Valley. This doesn't mean much--all new bands are bar bands, unless they're Boston. The term becomes honorific when the music belongs in a bar. This music belongs on an aircraft carrier. C -- R. Christgau

Mark my words: in three years, Van Halen is going to be fat and self-indulgent and disgusting, and they'll follow Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin right into the toilet. In the meantime, they are likely to be a big deal. Their cover of the Kinks' "You Really Got Me" does everything right, and they have three or four other cuts capable of jumping out of the radio the same way "Feels like the First Time" and "More than a Feeling" did amid all the candyass singer/songwriters and Shaun Cassidy-ass twits.

Van Halen's secret is not doing anything that's original while having the hormones to do it better than all those bands who have become fat and self-indulgent and disgusting. Edward Van Halen has mastered the art of lead/rhythm guitar in the tradition of Jimmy Page and Joe Walsh; several riffs on this record beat anything Aerosmith has come up with in years. Vocalist Dave Lee Roth manages the rare hard-rock feat of infusing the largely forgettable lyrics with energy and not sounding like a castrato at the same time. Drummer Alex Van Halen and bassist Michael Anthony are competent and properly unobtrusive.

These guys also have the good sense not to cut their hair or sing about destroying a hopelessly corrupt society on their first album. That way, hopelessly corrupt radio programmers will play their music. -- Charles M. Young, RS

review
[-] by Stephen Thomas Erlewine

Among revolutionary rock albums, Van Halen's debut often gets short shrift. Although it altered perceptions of what the guitar could do, it is not spoken of in the same reverential tones as Are You Experienced? and although it set the template for how rock & roll sounded for the next decade or more, it isn't seen as an epochal generational shift, like Led Zeppelin, The Ramones, The Rolling Stones, or Never Mind the Bollocks Here's the Sex Pistols, which was released just the year before. But make no mistake, Van Halen is as monumental, as seismic as those records, but part of the reason it's never given the same due is that there's no pretension, nothing self-conscious about it. In the best sense, it is an artless record, in the sense that it doesn't seem contrived, but it's also a great work of art because it's an effortless, guileless expression of what the band is all about, and what it would continue to be over the years. The band did get better, tighter, over the years -- peaking with their sleek masterpiece 1984, where there was no fat, nothing untidy -- but everything was in place here, from the robotic pulse of Michael Anthony and Alex Van Halen, to the gonzo shtick of David Lee Roth to the astonishing guitar of Eddie Van Halen. There may have been antecedents to this sound -- perhaps you could trace Diamond Dave's shuck-n-jive to Black Oak Arkansas' Jim Dandy, the slippery blues-less riffs hearken back to Aerosmith -- but Van Halen, to this day, sounds utterly unprecedented, as if it was a dispatch from a distant star. Some of the history behind the record has become rock lore: Eddie may have slowed down Cream records to a crawl to learn how Clapton played "Crossroads" -- the very stuff legends are made of -- but it's hard to hear Clapton here. It's hard to hear anybody else really, even with the traces of their influences, or the cover of "You Really Got Me," which doesn't seem as if it were chosen because of any great love of the Kinks, but rather because that riff got the crowd going. And that's true of all 11 songs here: they're songs designed to get a rise out of the audience, designed to get them to have a good time, and the album still crackles with energy because of it.

Sheer visceral force is one thing, but originality is another, and the still-amazing thing about Van Halen is how it sounds like it has no fathers. Plenty other bands followed this template in the '80s, but like all great originals Van Halen doesn't seem to belong to the past and it still sounds like little else, despite generations of copycats. Listen to how "Runnin' with the Devil" opens the record with its mammoth, confident riff and realize that there was no other band that sounded this way -- maybe Montrose or Kiss were this far removed from the blues, but they didn't have the down-and-dirty hedonistic vibe that Van Halen did; Aerosmith certainly had that, but they were fueled by blooze and boogie, concepts that seem alien here. Everything about Van Halen is oversized: the rhythms are primal, often simple, but that gives Dave and Eddie room to run wild, and they do. They are larger than life, whether it's Dave strutting, slyly spinning dirty jokes and come-ons, or Eddie throwing out mind-melting guitar riffs with a smile. And of course, this record belongs to Eddie, just like the band's very name does. There was nothing, nothing like his furious flurry of notes on his solos, showcased on "Eruption," a startling fanfare for his gifts. He makes sounds that were unimagined before this album, and they still sound nearly inconceivable. But, at least at this point, these songs were never vehicles for Van Halen's playing; they were true blue, bone-crunching rockers, not just great riffs but full-fledged anthems, like "Jamie's Cryin'," "Atomic Punk," and "Ain't Talkin' Bout Love," songs that changed rock & roll and still are monolithic slabs of rock to this day. They still sound vital, surprising, and ultimately fun -- and really revolutionary, because no other band rocked like this before Van Halen, and it's still a giddy thrill to hear them discover a new way to rock on this stellar, seminal debut.

Fact: I have never heard an entire Van Halen album afaik.

well that's the only one you need to hear all the way through tbf. Even if the kinks cover is inferior to the original.

I never had either until I checked that one out on the nominations thread. better than I expected but still not something I'll probably listen to very often. I think I like the idea of Van Halen better than the reality.

xp I think II is p great as well.

Like the movie Over The Edge really makes me want to listen to Van Halen but the actual music doesn't quite live up to my image of what it should be like

what about the theme song to Twister?!

http://youtu.be/b9e5fT8migI

II is alright yeah but not as great

I was more talking about how s/t is the one LL would be most likely to get to the end of the album

70. BLACK FLAG The First Four Years (2514 Points, 18 Votes)
RYM: #3 for 1983 , #525 overall
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/535/MI0002535894.jpg?partner=allrovi.com

he First Four Years is an extensive compilation of early releases, including the 1981 Six Pack maxi-single, Jealous Again and two tracks from a New Alliance compilation. -- Trouser Press

review
by John Dougan

The best collection of pre-Henry Rollins-era Black Flag. Much of The First Four Years finds the band in developmental mode, but the sonic anarchy and political vituperation met head-on more than once, creating a ferociously good time. Not simply for completists, this is an important recording of the then-burgeoning L.A. hardcore scene.

that's more like it

I think either you like VH or you don't. If you do, can't really go wrong with any of their first four. Those who are turned off by that kind of stadium rock or David Lee Roth, have probably heard most of the first album on the radio over the past 30 years anyway. I was on a hunt for footage of one of their early small club or yard party shows from '75-'76 but found nothing. There's plenty of live bootlegs from '77 but by them they sounded pretty much how they did on their debut. Which is great, I just wanted to see what it was like when they were still developing.

I thought it would have placed higher tbh (VH)

there are some big VH fans on ILM I think, maybe not voters though.

Then again it was only #96 in the alternate poll with 100 ineligible so maybe its not as popular on ILM as it is in North America

I can think of at least 3 big fans of VH that didn't vote

69. AMON DUUL II Wolf City (2532 Points, 17 Votes)
RYM: #134 for 1972 , #4288 overall
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0001/426/MI0001426510.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
http://open.spotify.com/album/5d9SN94pxIJlu1dZNBJUvp
spotify:album:5d9SN94pxIJlu1dZNBJUvp

But, hereon, with the onset of international recognition and tours abroad, Amon Düül II became an even much more unstable entity, with a steady flow of musicians passing through the band (amongst the more obscure were Reinhold Spiegelfeld and Reiner Schnelle of Weed). As evidence of this, on WOLF CITY (and its sister alter-ego album by Utopia which took the Amon Düül II sound to jazzier realms), no two tracks featured the same musicians yet, despite this, WOLF CITY was a surprisingly varied, fresh and highly inventive album extensively featuring Daniel Fichelscher, the percussionist/multi-instrumentalist who was to become the main musician ofPopol Vuh, and much more of Renate Knaup's uniquely styled vocals. -- Cosmic Egg

One of the very best Krautrock albums, this has been a favorite of mine since 1972. I don't remember what drew me to this album, except that the cover looked pretty spacey!

On side 1, the album leads off with "Wolf City" which seems to be about a social condition in Germany. It features "bubbly" effects and repeated vocals. The next song "Wie Der Wind Am Ende Einer Strasse" has echo'd bells which lead to a fugue-like repeated pattern and is wholly instrumental. Next is "Deutsch Nepal" which tells the story of a colonial mistake, where a people took over a land where they didn't belong. This is a very heavy song with a gutteral vocal. Side 1 ends with "Sleepwalker's Timeless Bridge" which is an uptempo instrumental with good guitar and synths.

Side 2 opens with "Surrounded By The Stars" which is as mysterious as it sounds, like those stars are the ones that play with "Laughing Sam's Dice". "You knock at the gates of life, no answer" Next is "Green-Bubble-Raincoated-Man" which is a story of compassion for a hippie-type individual, similar to the Grateful Deads' "St.Stephen". The album ends with "Jailhouse Frog" which lets it all out with wild guitars and a accusing vocal, dissolving into the bubbles and space noises, which sound like birds on an exotic planet. It finally ends with a Jethro Tull-ish soprano sax dissolve.

The vocals throughout are split between male and female and sound appropiately Teutonic. This album is a real trip if your head's in the right place, as mine was those 32 years ago. -- Oitmer51, Head Heritage

review
[-] by Ned Raggett

Amon Düül II's fifth studio album is a more conventional recording than most, though there's still a lot of the involved experimenting and dark undercurrent which sets the band apart from the mainstream, along with the off-kilter hooks and odd humor which saved them from being lumped alongside more serious (and less easy to take seriously) prog rock outfits. After the lengthy explorations of Tanz der Lemminge, Wolf City seems targeted to an extent at a commercial English-speaking audience, perhaps reflective of their increased status in the United Kingdom, if not in America. Regardless, opening song "Surrounded by the Stars," the longest track on the album at just under eight minutes, is also one of the band's best, with strong vocals from Renate Knaup-Kroetenschwanz, a dramatic building verse (complete with mock choir), an equally dramatic violin-accompanied instrumental break, and a catchy chorus leading to a fun little freakout. Knaup actually takes the lead vocals more often this time out and turns in some lovely performances, as on the beautiful, perhaps slightly precious "Green-Bubble-Raincoated-Man," with a great full-band performance that grows from a nice restraint to a slam-bang, epic rockout. Lothar Meid gets his moments in as well, his sometimes straightforward, sometimes not-so-much vocals adding to the overall effect as before. The one full instrumental, "Wie der Wind am Ende Einer Strasse," is excellent, with guest Indian musicians adding extra instrumentation to an intoxicating, spacious performance. While Wolf City generally sounds like a tight band playing things live or near-live, there are some equally gripping moments clearly resulting from studio work, like the strange loop opening the title track (percussion, guitar?). Concluding with the groovy good-time "Sleepwalker's Timeless Bridge," including some fantastic E-Bow guitar work, Wolf City works the balance between art and accessibility and does so with resounding success.

Another excellent album this

But the next one is going to surprise a LOT of people. It might excite a few people though who voted for it.

Voted for this one! Daniel and Renate groovy good times! I haven't listened to it in a while, going to remedy that soon.
Not sure I'm ever going to hear a full VH album when I can hear the singles on the radio all the time. They're alright.

68. SELDA Selda  (2534 Points, 17 Votes)
RYM: #107 for 1976
http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L0wAYu3wJ_s/S8tD1mC4ulI/AAAAAAAAAAc/iUfWrduEX00/s1600/folder.jpg
http://open.spotify.com/album/1FASO8cb9WRj1ZqI02ReBU
spotify:album:1FASO8cb9WRj1ZqI02ReBU

Remember when you were a younger person with a smaller vocabulary? Remember how you filled in the lyrics to songs you didn’t fully comprehend? I rediscovered that odd pleasure while listening to this, a reissue of Selda Bagcam’s Turkish psychedelic protest record from 1976. I don’t understand a word of Turkish, so I extrapolated my own meanings involving people I saw on the bus, or things I wanted to remember. Perhaps this isn’t the most appropriate way to appreciate Selda, but this music makes me so damned giddy and receptive and alive, it just happens.

Much as American psych sprang from acid-eaten variations on the blues, Selda and her contemporaries (such as they were) built on their own common musical and cultural input. The deep, hypnotic strains of Anadolu folk lent themselves generously to the lush, distorted, disorienting pop aesthetic of the day. The saz, in particular, proved itself as cozy in the heavy psychedelic haze as the Mellotron.

Not that Selda tries to sound weird or cosmic; it just happens. It may bleed a thick syrup of oddness, but at its heart, this stuff is grounded in the feel and ideology of pop. In their native tongue, the lyrics are as sincere and agonized as anything from the ‘60s Greenwich canon. Selda’s voice is powerful, passionate, and carefully focused. The jubilant accompaniment buoys the populist sentiments. Like any good protest music, it carries its own dramatic weight and invites its politics along for the ride.

But, musically, this stuff is so absurdly advanced, it lands somewhere far from the utilitarian here-and-now of most political pop. In tune with the far-fetched bricolage of prog-rock, it shifts from ardent balladry (“Nasirli Eller”) to blistering fuzz (“Ince Ince”) to snaky spy jazz (“Yaylalar”) within a few tracks without compromising its urgent mood. The newly amended bonus tracks even venture into what sounds like reggae. Clearly, the erstwhile Turkish underground never considered stunning virtuosity, full-tilt artistic ambition or unbounded appropriation tools of establishmentarian oppression. It got better agit-prop for its aesthetic broad-mindedness. Even now, it’s rare to behold such an extensive range of concepts mixed with such catholic glee. Few other psych records, regardless of national origin, come close to having this much fun with this much conviction or this much emotion.

As it circulated, this album became retroactive samizdat by virtue of its popularity, and got Selda thrown in jail. Although I don’t know exactly what she’s talking about, the authority of her charming, haunting spell dismantles the language barrier with no problem. If I were the thought police, I’d be spooked, too. -- Emerson Dameron, Dusted

Terrific album and well chuffed it placed so high

LL I assume you know it but if not go get it!

I don't, but I will! This really was the best decade, eh? I feel bad for not nominating some of the groovier/harder edged stuff released on Discos Fuentes/rereleased by Soundway in the last few years. I think a lot of it would have been at home here, but oh well. There are a few other comps and stuff, a lot of it's on spotify if anyone cares.

I'm glad the results aren't boring.

67. THE SLITS Cut (2615 Points, 21 Votes)
RYM: #103 for 1979 | Acclaimed: #665
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/455/MI0000455739.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
http://open.spotify.com/album/4iNtNt45SY3Ieb5FR8qt3Q
spotify:album:4iNtNt45SY3Ieb5FR8qt3Q

For once a white reggae style that rivals its models for weirdness and formal imagination. The choppy lyrics and playful, quavering, chantlike vocals are a tribute to reggae's inspired amateurism rather than a facsimile, and the spacey rhythms and recording techniques are exploited to solve the great problem of female rock bands, which is how to make yourself heard over all that noise. Arri Up's answer is to sing around it, which is lucky, because she'd be screeching for sure on top of the usual wall of chords. Some of this is thinner and more halting than it's meant to be, but I sure hope they keep it up. B+ -- R. Christgau

Lurching into existence during the original 1977 explosion of pre-commercial London punk, the all-female Slits wrested the anyone-can-make-a-band-so-why-not-do-it-yourself ethos away from the traditionally no-women-allowed punk-rock brotherhood and unselfconsciously paraded their stunningly amateur rock noise with the enthusiastic support of the Clash and other sensible compatriots. While on the road as part of a punk package tour, the Slits were immortalized in all their primitive glory in The Punk Rock Movie. Looking back at the group's tentative beginnings now, it's clear that while the Slits may have been truly awful, they weren't much worse than many of their male contemporaries, and undoubtedly a damn sight better and smarter than some.

It was probably fortunate, however, that several years elapsed before the Slits got around to recording a debut album; by the time they reached the studio, Viv Albertine guitar), Ari Upp (vocals) and Tessa (bass), joined by drummer Budgie (later of Siouxsie and the Banshees), had become reasonably competent players. Spare and rudimentary but bursting with novel ideas and rampant originality, Cut — brilliantly produced by reggae powerhouse Dennis Bovell — forges a powerful white-reggae hybrid that serves as a solid underpinning for Ari Upp's wobbly, semi-melodic vocals. -- Trouser Press

From their album cover (which depicts them fresh from frolicking naked in the mud) to their stage show (which ends with them inviting the audience up to play their instruments while they wander off to the bar or dressing room), the Slits are tribal. Vocalist Arri Up, bassist Tessa and guitarist Viv Albertine (assisted on Cut by male drummer Budgie) were the first British all-female punk group. They began their career by opening for–and borrowing the equipment of–people like the Clash, and for a couple of years, the news from such magazines as England's New Musical Express was that they hadn't quite, ah, jelled yet, though they certainly were trying. I don't know what those limey critics' ears are made of! Because both live and on their debut LP, the Slits prove that they're not only charming but can hold their own as a band.

Much of the charm derives from their lyrics, in which they treat "relevant" topics with a wry humor that's truly refreshing: the Slits aren't funny feminists, but feminists with wit. "So Tough" takes the piss out of one poor fool's macho swagger ("Don't take it serious"), while "Typical Girls" lists various qualities of the genus ("... buy magazines ... are sensitive ... emotional") and concludes: "Typical girl gets the typical boy." This group doesn't reject sex or even love, and I like the blase way that Up tells one ex-flame, "While you were sulking, I could've been raped/In Lad-broke Grove." The same sort of humor is embodied in the equanimous view of the boy in "Instant Hit," whom I'd swear was Sid Vicious: "He is set to self-destruct/He is too good to be true."

Producer Dennis Bovell has gotten a truly unique sound from the Slits: like Public Image Ltd., they're a white band influenced heavily by reggae rhythms and guitar-chop stylings, but they don't play straight reggae. The result is an almost ticktock sound, overlaid with occasional flurries of keyboards, a recorder, and Albertine and Tessa singing in and out of unison with Arri Up, who makes the most of her middle register while indulging a penchant for the occasional birdlike falsetto trill.

Musically as well as personally, the Slits embody the individualism at the heart of the original British punk ethic, perhaps best summed up in Cut's final number: "I'll choose my own fate/I'll follow love, I'll follow hate. -- Lester Bangs, RS

Here are some things you might already know about Cut, even if you haven't heard one note of the Slits' music: This is the first time the album's been released domestically in the U.S. on CD (with the obligatory bonus tracks). The album cover features three members of the group wearing nothing but mud and loincloths. When the group first formed, they couldn't play their instruments for shit. The songs on the album offer an amalgam of punk's abrasive DIY WTF-ness and the spacious relaxed rhythms of dub reggae. This album is a keystone for any and all punk-based grrrl movements. And-- though it goes without saying, it's often said anyway-- this album is terribly, terribly important in the history of the rock music and the grand scheme of canonical flippity floo flap.

Funny thing is, for all its import, Cut is actually a lot of fun. Fun in the way Ari Up trills and coos and yelps across the songs like a precocious schoolgirl taunting all the boys and teachers. Fun in the way Viv Albertine scratches and waxes her guitar. Fun in the way Tessa's bass and Budgie's drums slip in and out of grooves like lovers test-driving the Kama Sutra. Fun in the way the group turns every subject it touches into a giddy playground sing-a-long, whether it be a diatribe against pre-set gender roles ("Typical Girls"), a story about Sid Vicious and Johnny Rotten butting heads ("So Tough"), a cautionary tale about PiL's Keith Levene's drug use ("Instant Hit"), or songs tackling other didactic topics like invasive media propaganda, shoplifting and the idealized love of a new purchase. Fun in the way producer Dennis Bovell employees spoons and matchboxes as beat accents (in "Newtown"), centers the group's meanderings with a little piano or more traditional percussion, and allows the band to occupy both punk and dub at the same time. The Slits don't destroy passerby: They stop them, dance around them, sing songs to and about them, playfully taunt and tease them, and then pass them the dutchie.

The bonus tracks are OK add-ons-- the group's version of "I Heard It Through the Grapevine" was slated to be the record's first single way back in the day, and would have served fine as another respectfully disrespectful punk cover, but appropriately ended up as the B-side to the actual first single, "Typical Girls". "Liebe and Romanze (Slow Version)" is an instrumental version of "Love Und Romance" bathing in the hot and welcome tropical sun outside of Lee Perry's studio, and serves as a pleasant cool down after the frenetic shenanigans that preceded. But, of course, if you're giving this album a spin, it's for the first 10 tracks, and if you're coming to them for the very first time, then I envy you. Yes, this is an important document, and part of any balanced popular musical diet, but this isn't a multi-vitamin-- this is skipping school as spring turns to summer to spend an extra-long lunch with friends driving to the not-so-local Jamaican bakery for a few beef patties and some much-needed fresh air. Take a long, deep breath, and enjoy the moment while it lasts. -- David Raposa, Pitchfork

review
by John Dougan

Almost as well-known for its cover (the three Slits are half-naked and covered in mud) as for its music, Cut is an ebullient piece of post-punk mastery that finds the Slits' interest in Caribbean and African rhythms smoothly incorporated into their harsher punk rock stylings. Ari Up's wandering voice (a touch like Yoko Ono) might be initially off-putting, but not so much so that it makes listening to the record difficult. Six tracks are revamped from earlier Peel Sessions and sound better for the extra effort (especially "New Town" and "Love und Romance"). With its goofy charm, gleeful swing and sway, and subtle yet compelling libertarian feminism, this is one of the best records of the era.

Selda- another album I've never heard of, another to check out

Selda was definitely an interesting new discovery for me. I hunted it down back during the voting period, and found a 17 track flac version that's with wildly varied fidelity. It sounds like a rip from a scratchy record, some more distorted than others. Is that what the 2006 CD reissue sounds like?

It was next to impossible to find official reviews of it. Those who knew about this album before the poll, how did you get turned on to it?

I have a few friends BIG into psychedelic music and in particular turkish psych. Lots of psych comps around where I heard the likes of Selda,Baris manco, erkin koray and more. Got a lot of psych comps on mp3. finders keepers reissue a lot of it. great label.

finders keepers reissue. available on spotify.
xp

66. RAMONES Ramones (2641 Points, 19 Votes)
RYM: #3 for 1976 , #199 overall | Acclaimed: #37 | RS: #33 | Pitchfork: #23
http://www.superseventies.com/oaaa/oaaa_ramones.jpg
http://open.spotify.com/album/4X44NrhroDDaWXheAhcvYY
spotify:album:4X44NrhroDDaWXheAhcvYY

I love this record--love it--even though I know these boys flirt with images of brutality (Nazi especially) in much the same way "Midnight Rambler" flirts with rape. You couldn't say they condone any nasties, natch--they merely suggest that the power of their music has some fairly ominous sources and tap those sources even as they offer the suggestion. This makes me uneasy. But my theory has always been that good rock and roll should damn well make you uneasy, and the sheer pleasure of this stuff--which of course elicits howls of pain from the good old rock and roll crowd--is undeniable. For me, it blows everything else off the radio: it's clean the way the Dolls never were, sprightly the way the Velvets never were, and just plain listenable the way Black Sabbath never was. And I hear it cost $6400 to put on plastic. A -- R. Christgau

Ramones almost defies critical comment. The fourteen songs, averaging barely over two minutes each, start and stop like a lurching assembly line. Joey Ramone's monotone is the perfect complement to Johnny and Dee Dee's precise guitar/bass pulse. Since the no-frills production sacrifices clarity for impact, printed lyrics on the inner sleeve help even as they mock another pretentious convention — although the four-or-five-line texts of "Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue," "I Don't Wanna Walk Around with You" and "Loudmouth" are an anti-art of their own. Like all cultural watersheds, Ramones was embraced by a discerning few and slagged off as a bad joke by the uncomprehending majority. It is now inarguably a classic. -- Trouser Press

If today's Rolling Stone were the Cahiers du Cinema of the late Fifties, a band of outsiders as deliberately crude and basic as the Ramones would be granted instant auteur status as fast as one could say "Edgar G. Ulmer." Their musique maudite -- 14 rock & roll songs exploding like time bombs in the space of 29 breathless minutes and produced on a Republic-Monogram budget of $6400 -- would be compared with the mise en scene of, say, Robert Aldrich's Kiss Me Deadly or, better yet, Samuel Fuller's delirious Underworld U.S.A.

And such comparisons would not be specious. The next paragraph is almost literal transcription of something the American auteurist, Andrew Sarris, wrote about Fuller in The American Cinema: Directors and Directions 1929-1968. I've just changed the names and a few terms.

The Ramones are authentic American primitives whose work has to be heard to be understood. Heard, not read about or synopsized. Their first album,Ramones, is constructed almost entirely of rhythm tracks of an exhilarating intensity rock & roll has not experienced since its earliest days. The Ramones' lyrics are so compressed that there is no room for even one establishing atmosphere verse or one dramatically irrelevant guitar solo in which the musicians could suggest an everyday existence... The Ramones' ideas are undoubtedly too broad and oversimplified for any serious analysis, but it is the artistic force with which their ideas are expressed that makes their music so fascinating to critics who can rise above their aesthetic prejudices... The Ramones' perversity and peculiarly Old Testament view of retribution carry the day... It is time popular music followed the other arts in honoring its primitives. The Ramones belong to rock & roll, and not to rock and avant-garde musical trends.

How the present will treat the Ramones, proponents of the same Manhattan musical minimalism as the New York Dolls who preceded them, remains to be seen. Thus far, punk rock's archetypal concept of an idealized Top 40 music -- the songs stripped down like old Fords, then souped up for speed -- has unintentionally provoked more primal anger from than precipitant access to the nation's teenagers, and the godheads of AM radio don't seem to be listening at all. Why? Do you have to be over 21 to like this stuff? Doesn't "Blitzkrieg Bop" or the absolutely wonderful "I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend" mean anything to anyone but an analytical intellectual? Until now, apparently not.

Where's your sense of humor and adventure, America? In rock & roll and matters of the heart, we should all hang on to a little amateurism. Let's hope these guys sell more records than Elton John has pennies. If not, shoot the piano player. And throw in Paul McCartney to boot. -- Paul Nelson, RS
From its simple black-and-white cover photo to its quick-fire sonic assaults, the Ramones' debut album is the ultimate punk statement.

Recorded in two days for a meagre $6,000, Ramones stripped rock back to its basic elements. There are no guitar solos and no lengthy fantasy epics, in itself a revolutionary declaration in a time of Zeppelin-inspired hard-rock excess. Pushed along by Johnny Ramone's furious four-chord guitar and Tommy's thumping surf drums, all of the tracks clock in under three minutes. And while the songs are short and sharp, the group's love of 1950s drive-through rock and girl-group pop means they are also melodically sweet.

The album's lyrics are very simple, boiled-down declarations of teen lust and need. Joey Ramone yelps about what he wants ("I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend," "Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue") and what he does not ("I Don't Wanna Walk Around With You'). Only "53rd And 3rd" -- a dark narrative based on Dee Dee's experiences as a rent boy -- hints at the expression of something more meaningful and deeply felt.

Praised on its release by a small circle of music journalists (Creem declared, "If their successors are one-third as good as the Ramones, we'll be fixed for life"), Ramones failed to enter either the U.S. Top 100 or the UK Top 40. But the few kids who bought the album took its hyped-up, melodic minimalism as a call to arms. The Sex Pistols, The Clash, and the Buzzcocks all used The Ramones' four-chord blueprint to express their frustration at rock's stale and self-indulgent state. Revolution would never sound so simple again. -- Theunis Bates, 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die

review
[-] by Stephen Thomas Erlewine

With the three-chord assault of "Blitzkrieg Bop," The Ramones begins at a blinding speed and never once over the course of its 14 songs does it let up. The Ramones is all about speed, hooks, stupidity, and simplicity. The songs are imaginative reductions of early rock & roll, girl group pop, and surf rock. Not only is the music boiled down to its essentials, but the Ramones offer a twisted, comical take on pop culture with their lyrics, whether it's the horror schlock of "I Don't Wanna Go Down to the Basement," the gleeful violence of "Beat on the Brat," or the maniacal stupidity of "Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue." And the cover of Chris Montez's "Let's Dance" isn't a throwaway -- with its single-minded beat and lyrics, it encapsulates everything the group loves about pre-Beatles rock & roll. They don't alter the structure, or the intent, of the song, they simply make it louder and faster. And that's the key to all of the Ramones' music -- it's simple rock & roll, played simply, loud, and very, very fast. None of the songs clock in at any longer than two and half minutes, and most are considerably shorter. In comparison to some of the music the album inspired, The Ramones sounds a little tame -- it's a little too clean, and compared to their insanely fast live albums, it even sounds a little slow -- but there's no denying that it still sounds brilliantly fresh and intoxicatingly fun.

xp thanks guys, also on emusic. Downloading now!

yay Ramones!

I know a lot of american metal fans who hate bands like the ramones because "they cant play". Usually van halen fans funnily enough. I bet it was even worse back in the 70s.

65. SLAPP HAPPY Acnalbasac Noom (2642 Points, 16 Votes, 2 #1s)
RYM: #2968 overall
http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcm59cbipy1rc22qso1_1280.jpg

At its best, though, the band was refreshing, diverting and sometimes moving. Nearly a decade after the release of Slapp Happy's eponymous second album — which contains the song "Casablanca Moon" but does not bear that title — the band issued its original demos as Acnalbasac Noom. It's a gem from start to finish. Blegvad crafts some wonderful, offhandedly literary lyrics while Moore provides sophisticated tunes to match. (As the group didn't contain a drummer or bassist, the group employed the rhythm section from Faust, not that you'd ever guess.) Although there are some songs in common, this is an entirely different album from Slapp Happy, which was recorded using anonymous studio musicians and features some ambitious (but odd) string arrangements.  -- Trouser Press

review
[-] by Richie Unterberger

The history of this album is a bit complicated. Originally titled Casablanca Moon, it was recorded for Polydor in 1973, but scrapped when the group signed with Virgin; their first Virgin release was an entirely re-recorded version of the same material, although it was entitled Slapp Happy when released. To compound the confusion, the Virgin version was retitled Casablanca Moon when it was reissued on CD in 1993 (on a single-disc release that also included their 1974 Virgin album Desperate Straights). Acnalbasac Noom is the original, 1973 recording of the Casablanca Moon material, and not a mere archival curiosity; it's quite worthy on its own merits. The group's songwriting had improved since their debut, and Krause's German chanteuse-influenced vocals found catchier, more rock-oriented settings. The lyrics are witty and oddball without being pretentious. Tracks like "Mr. Rainbow" recall Yoko Ono's early-'70s song-oriented material, with an important difference: Krause's vocals are much better than Ono's, while just as distinctive. "The Secret," with its almost girl-group-worthy catchiness, and "Charlie 'n Charlie," with its nifty surfish guitar riff, even sound like potential commercial singles. The four bonus tracks include the delightful 1982 single "Everybody's Slimmin'," with its immortal opening line, "Listen my children and you will hear/You can shed weight and still drink beer."

Someone's campaigning worked for sure

speaking of Finder's Keepers, if I had thought of it (and knew that people would go for the weird stuff in this poll) I would have nominated Jacky Chalard - Je Suis Vivant, Mais J'Ai Peur. awesome sci-fi spoken word space prog, soundtracky stuff. and also speaking of french stuff and since Heldon did well, I also should have nominated Patrick Vian - Bruits et Temps Analogues. Those are two of my favorite '70s french records apart from the obvious stuff like gainsbourg, magma, gong, fontaine, etc.

Albums that were a bit unknown but were campaigned for did well (see all the funk and krautrock in the 101-501 range for example)

If other albums had been campaigned for (or nominated them campaigned for) then perhaps the same could have happened.

btw the 501-550 range is pretty strong and some really good stuff missed out

64. PERE UBU The Modern Dance (2644 Points, 24 Votes)
RYM: #7 for 1978 , #405 overall | Acclaimed: #226
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0000/032/MI0000032902.jpg?partner=allrovi.com

Ubu's music is nowhere near as willful as it sounds at first. Riffs emerge from the cacophony, David Thomas's shrieking suits the heterodox passion of the lyrics, and the synthesizer noise begins to cohere after a while. So even though there's too much Radio Ethiopia and not enough Redondo Beach, I'll be listening through the failed stuff--the highs are worth it, and the failed stuff ain't bad. A- -- R. Christgau

With its debut album, The Modern Dance, Pere Ubu engineered a dauntingly seamless coupling of arty introspection and old-school garage-rock squall. Frontman David Thomas uses his bizarro-world warble to yelp out fusillades of angst ("Life Stinks") and spin dreamworld visions ("Sentimental Journey") that ultimately proved far darker and more challenging than any three-chord ranters operating at the time. It includes two songs remade from early 45s that Pere Ubu had released on its Hearthan label (when Thomas was calling himself Crocus Behemoth and the late Peter Laughner was one of the sextet's guitarists and main songwriters). -- Trouser Press
These two records are vivid, exhilarating examples of how Americans can use New Wave punk music for their own purposes. Both Pere Ubu and the Suicide Commandos are from the Midwest (Cleveland and Minneapolis, respectively), and The Modern Dance and Make a Record are the first two releases on Blank, an intelligently subversive subsidiary of Mercury.

Pere Ubu's The Modern Dance is harsh and willfully ugly, yet always mindful of certain rock & roll imperatives: a solid beat, snappy lyrics and engaging themes. Ubu tends to break these imperatives apart: if the lyrics are funny, the melody will be excruciatingly abstract; if the melody is catchy, the lyrics will be intentionally dull or indecipherable. But David Thomas' smooth, adenoidal vocals and Tom Herman's staccato guitar playing provide the musical glue to hold everything together.

The band's name, derived from a character in turn-of-the-century avant-gardist Alfred Jarry's famous plays, has some significance. As in the work of Jarry and other Dadaists, there is, beneath Pere Ubu's shouted cynicism, a painfully hopeful romanticism, a feeling that if you wallow in ugliness with a sufficiently noble and artistic intent, the ugliness will become attractive. It did for Jarry, and it does for Pere Ubu, especially on the title song--a swirling, complex collage--and on the sardonic but hearty "Humor Me." -- Ken Tucker, RS

Without too much thought involved either. If there's one record which would make sense of the entire selection here, it'd be "The Modern Dance". Cue long essay waxing rhapsodic. Nah. I got this in 1987 and it's stuck with me ever since. I reckon it's as pungent as it has ever been. I wish I had the original pressing, the one with the black and white linocut, rather than my shitty silver limited edition reissue. When I was 18 I hung around backstage at a Sonic Youth gig (when Ubu were supporting them) and met David Thomas. He was cool. -- Woebot, #1

review
by John Dougan

There isn't a Pere Ubu recording you can imagine living without. The Modern Dance remains the essential Ubu purchase (as does the follow-up, Dub Housing). For sure, Mercury had no idea what they had on their hands when they released this as part of their punk rock offshoot label Blank, but it remains a classic slice of art-punk. It announces itself quite boldly: the first sound you hear is a painfully high-pitched whine of feedback, but then Tom Herman's postmodern Chuck Berry riffing kicks off the brilliant "Non-Alignment Pact," and you soon realize that this is punk rock unlike any you've ever heard. David Thomas' caterwauling is funny and moving, Scott Krauss (drums) and Tony Maimone (bass) are one of the great unheralded rhythm sections in all of rock, and the "difficult" tracks like "Street Waves," "Chinese Radiation," and the terrifying "Humor Me" are revelatory, and way ahead of their time. The Modern Dance is the signature sound of the avant-garage: art rock, punk rock, and garage rock mixing together joyously and fearlessly.

63. FAUST So Far (2654 Points, 20 Votes)
RYM: #71 for 1972 , #2122 overall | Acclaimed: #1761
http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/3/JPG_500/MI0002/405/MI0002405431.jpg?partner=allrovi.com
http://open.spotify.com/album/62dqL9uBwUqz6TwhQ3QFFh
spotify:album:62dqL9uBwUqz6TwhQ3QFFh

Faust So Far is far more tightly structured, boasting actual songs like "It's a Rainy Day, Sunshine Girl" and "Mamie Is Blue," which makes something out of abrasive electronic bursts, wah-wah guitar and minimal vocals. As the album was recorded in 1972, some tracks include twangy distorted guitar/plucky bass jams. Bizarre little experiments pop up between songs: overlays of effects-treated guitars and the like, sort of a German analogue to the Mothers of Invention's early sound adventures. -- Trouser Press

The second album SO FAR (again a novelty package, this time virtually all-black, with a set of 10 picture inserts depicting each track) acted more on parody, with shorter tracks and a wider range of styles, metronomic rock anthems (with nonsensical lyrics), guitars fuzzed with intense electronic effects, pseudo psychedelia onto trippy folk, dadaism and even a closing Pasadena Roof Orchestra styled jazz number! The lyrics are extraordinary, and every track is a surprise - invention upon invention - a bounty of delights. The "So Far" single was a very different version of the album title-track given a weird brassy edge and a very strange mix. A version of the B side later appeared on FAUST IV. -- Cosmic Egg

review
by Ted Mills

Faust's second album moves closer to actual song structure than their debut, but it still remains experimental. Songs progress and evolve instead of abruptly stopping or cutting into other tracks. The opening song "It's a Rainy Day, Sunshine Girl" begins as a repetitive 4/4 beat played on toms and piano with the title sung over the top. But for seven minutes the song adds instruments, including a lush analog synth line, and ends in a memorable sax riff. Faust's lyrical side appears on the acoustic "Picnic on a Frozen River" and "On the Way to Adamäe," whereas its abrasive side pops up on "Me Lack Space." "So Far," a jam shared by guitar, horns, and tweedy keyboard, rolls along with a funky hypnotic beat and wailing processed synths. And on "No Harm," the crazed delivery of such lines as "Daddy, take the banana, tomorrow Sunday" makes one want to believe something profound is going down. In terms of scope and the wealth of ideas, this is probably the most balanced of their first four albums.

2 more tonight..