If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?

Continuing my trip up Rolling Stone's list of the 500 Greatest Albums Of All Time...

#382 : Currents - Tame Impala (2015)

Aussie studio wiz Kevin Parker found surprising mainstream success with his band’s refined neo-psychedelia, thanks in large part to the danceable ease of songs like the hit “Let It Happen.” Tame Impala’s breakthrough is a modern take on trippy bliss, burying vague intimations of displacement and anxiety under pillows of soft, neon synths and Parker’s twee-Bee Gees falsetto. After Currents, he was getting calls to work with Lady Gaga and Kanye West, and Rihanna was covering one of his songs.

I'm not entirely sure there's a phrase more likely to result in raised levels of concern than "neo-psychedelia" ("twee-Bee Gees" is going to come close though) but fortunately I wasn't coming to this totally blind so wasn't scared off.  I'd always admired Tame Impala for their ability to achieve some degree of success whilst very much ploughing their own furrow - but had never been entirely convinced their furrow was entirely for me.

And this album did nothing to convince me otherwise, I'm afraid.  I didn't hate it - it just kinda passed me by.  I can appreciate the skill involved, but that doesn't mean I like it - it just feels a bit unsubstantial to me.  Sorry, Kev!

Wikipedia has an interesting section on the perfectionism involved in the recording of this album - one track involved over 1,056 (an oddly specific number!) partial vocal takes.  In other oddly specific news, apparently the album sold 169,304 copies in the UK - that's some impressive counting going on there.  "Customers also listened to" MGMT and Phoenix - two other groups I admire rather than enjoy, so I guess it's just me.  Oh well - I guess we'll all just have to live with that.

#381 : (Pronounced 'Lĕh-'nérd 'Skin-'nérd) - Lynyrd Skynyrd (1973)

Southern-rock icons Lynyrd Skynyrd took their name from their high school gym teacher, Leonard Skinner, who tried to make them cut their hair. (He later became a fan.) Skynyrd lived fast, played hard, and went down in a tragic 1977 plane crash. On their debut, Ronnie Van Zant flexes his wiseass drawl in “Gimme Three Steps,” protests racism in “Things Goin’ On,” and honors his mama in “Simple Man.” But the peak is “Free Bird,” nine minutes of dueling guitars from Allen Collins and Gary Rossington — now and forever, the ultimate air-guitar epic.

Ah - another one of those 70s US "rock" albums which fails to distinguish itself from the multitude of tedious imitators.  Or so I thought without ever having listened to it...

...but I actually really liked it.  The sound is much cleaner than I was expecting and there's some serious guitar skills going on (particularly on "Free Bird").  I feel I'd need a few more listens to properly comment on it (and time is somewhat limited for such things at the minute), but (once again) we can see that my assumptions don't always turn out to be 100% accurate.  I would suggest it's not the easiest album title to search for on the internet - they really should have though about that back in the day.

"Customers also listened to" Kansas and Bob Seger - two other groups I don't like without ever having really listened to (hmmm).  Wikipedia has surprisingly little to say about the album but somewhat more to say about the band and it's safe to say they don't have the happiest timeline, but various members have soldiered on and they're still around in some form.  But I suspect it's this album that most people have affection for and, having actually listened to it, I can quite understand why.

#380 : Mingus Ah Um - Charlie Mingus (1959)

Charles Mingus filtered the vibrancy and romance of his hero Duke Ellington’s big-band orchestrations into hard-driving bop, leading his own band through a torrid, gospel inspired rave-up (“Better Git It in Your Soul”), a sly protest song (“Fables of Faubus,” aimed at Arkansas’ segregationist governor), and a mournful elegy (“Goodbye Pork Pie Hat,” dedicated to tenor great Lester Young). Ah Um is the place to hear why Mingus deserves a place in any survey of America’s greatest composers, regardless of genre.

I've previously documented my difficulties with jazz - whilst I can enjoy it live (I can also hate it!), I struggle to engage with recordings.  So, I approached this with some trepidation and low expectations - and 30 seconds into the opening track, I was already sighing.  

But, to my very pleasant surprise, from "Goodbye Pork Pie Hat" onwards, things got a lot better and I enjoyed a surprising amount of this album.  I'd love to be able to explain why, but am unfortunately completely unable to do so - however, I'm very pleased that some kind of breakthrough as occurred.

Wikipedia tells me that the album title is "a corruption of an imaginary Latin declension" - which sounds like there's a bit more intelligence going on here than on your average album title.  Apart from that, it has very little of note to say about the album - but the entry for Mingus himself is somewhat lengthier.  I can't claim to have read it all, but was amused by the "Personality and Temper" section which notes he earned the nickname "The Angry Man of Jazz" - which seems somewhat impressive given the somewhat volatile nature of some of the competition.  "Customers also listened to" all those names from back in the day that I've either struggled with or never attempted - maybe this album will give me the encouragement to (re-)visit them.

So, two pleasant surprises in this round and I'm giving to Lynyrd, but Charlie can consider himself unlucky.

#385-383 - Two winners?  Is that allowed?
#379-377 - OK Yeah Yeah