Album Review: Black Sabbath - Sabbath Bloody Sabbath (1973)

Back in the 70s, stoners would get together at a good friend's house, armed with nothing but a handful of tinnies, a selection of heavy metal and hard rock records, and a bong. They'd all sit on the floor next to the wood-trimmed stereo hi-fi system - state of the art for those days, and still the case if you live in a country who's minimum wage is three peanuts and one moldy persimmon a week. They would then put on Pink Floyd, and for the next 30 minutes giggle pointlessly and philosophize on random topics until they got so stoned they couldn't remember the next word that would come out of their mouth. One of them would then drink the bong water, change the record to Black Sabbath's Paranoid, and another would break three front teeth and chip another two after subsequently trying to eat it.

Black Sabbath's 1973 album Sabbath Bloody Sabbath certainly doesn't taste like plastic, and you certainly wouldn't want to consume it, but it is tasty nonetheless, especially if you have a diverse heavy metal palette on your musical tongue. Not their greatest album either, but certainly one you would be proud to say you owned. And two of the songs are so good Metallica fused them together and put them on their Garage Inc. album from 1998, with very favorable results. "Sabbath Bloody Sabbath", the title track, is one of the greatest intro tracks to grace a metal album. "A National Acrobat" and "Sabbra Cadabra", the two tracks covered by Metallica, are forgotten classics that should be on any Sabbath playlist. or heavy metal playlist for that matter. "Fluff" is a delightful little acoustic number reminiscent of Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here", and "Who Are You?" is a pseudo-futuristic synth-heavy tune that despite the use of a synthesizer still avoids sounding out of place with the rest of the album. "Looking for Today" is the last and weakest track and would make the aforementioned stoner eat the record had it been the first track played.

All in all, this album is a notable one in the Black Sabbath discography that is often overlooked in favor of albums like Paranoid and their debut album Black Sabbath. But don't let that put you off listening to it. Try it, you'll like it. A-

Album Review: Bob Marley and The Wailers - Legend (1984)

"Greatest Hits" albums are some of the best things to come out of the music industry, in my opinion. If you're like me - broke and with an annual operating budget equivalent to that of Zimbabwe, or just tight as a fish's asshole with money, then one of these babies is a bargain. Or if you're reluctant to try new things because you don't know what they're going to be like, then again these suckers are right up your alley. But however, if you're constantly buying these types of albums and keep telling others 'so and so's latest best of compilation is just the cat's cornhole', then it probably gives them the impression you've got a music collection as great as the Rain Man's - very limited. And probably full of scratched records too, because Rain Man loves broken records.

However, were you to say Bob Marley & The Wailer's Legend is f***ing legendary in the middle of Kingston town, you'll instantly be elected prime minister and bathed in goat's milk, with a harem consisting of three toothless she-male prostitutes and the town bum. Because Bob was practically a national hero in Jamaica, and quite rightly so. Each song on this album with the exception of "I Shot The Sheriff" (Eric Clapton's version is better) brings out Marley's genius with the poetic proficiency of Lewis Carroll on the gravy stroke. Classics like "Buffalo Soldier", "Stir It Up" and "One Love" are guaranteed to turn your front lawn into a makeshift reggae festival, with lesser known (but just as good) tracks like "Waiting In Vain", "Exodus" and "Jamming" keeping your freeloading audience quiet. "Redemption Song" and "Get Up Stand Up" aren't so good as the others and will send some of them home faster than a psychopathic school principal with a bommy knocker who's forgotten to take his medication.

All up, this album is without a doubt the best hits compilation ever made. If you're a music snob, you should own this album. If you don't, you're not a music snob at all, in fact you know about as much about music as Helen Keller. A+

Album Review: Electric Light Orchestra - Discovery (1979)

Mixing classical music with rock and pop, in theory, is a horrible idea. It's like getting a neutered three-legged chihuahua belonging to a socialite to hump a feral Maine coon cat with epilepsy and a festering case of ringworm . They are completely two different genres of music on two opposite sides of the spectrum, they share little in common instrument wise, and the people who like them want the other party either jailed or euthanized. How could you possibly mix cellos and violins with the even lesser old-school stylings of Chuck Berry? Well, Chuck Berry came up with the song, recorded it, made it a hit, and 20 odd years later a Brummie band by the name of Electric Light Orchestra would go one step further and put the Beethoven back into "Roll Over Beethoven." And despite the threat of annihilating all matter in the known universe, it works out brilliantly.

Now, ELO's 1979 hit Discovery is a shining example of the musical genius of Jeff Lynne and Co. Some of the better known radio hits are on here: "Shine a Little Love", "The Diary of Horace Wimp", "Last Train to London" and "Don't Bring Me Down." And coupled with the likes of "Confusion" and "On the Run", make for a ideal starter album for the ELO-curious. It's not a A-grade album, somehow it fails to project that kind of aura, yet it's one that you would hastily retrieve if your house was burning down. Some of the tracks have that Beatle-like feel to it (Jeff Lynne being a major Beatles fanatic, apparently), in particular "The Diary of Horace Wimp", and overall it has that very British sound to it that makes ELO's music so fantastic. All up, it's as fun as a cheeky root in the park without a condom. B+

Album Review: Michael Jackson - Bad (1987)

Michael Jackson died a tragic death in a number of ways. Firstly, prior to his death, he'd become a recluse, accused of molesting children and being perceived as a freak, a stark contrast to his Thriller days. Secondly, after his death people were suddenly reminded of how great and how talented an entertainer he was, and sadly, it took his death for this irrefutable fact to come to light once again. The man is a genius, and anyone who says they can surpass him as an entertainer is either lying, or in need of a shrink or a firing squad. An estimated 100M+ sales of Thriller to date is clearly testament to this.

My first exposure to MJ came in the form of a song called Bad. I was five years old, it was 1987 and it was the best thing I ever heard. And it was another 8 frustrating years until I finally got my grubby paws on the album. It was my very first CD, and owning a copy of this fantastic album was, for me about as liberating as a hooker offering half-price specials to fat, bespectacled nerds at a Star Trek convention. It had consistency, melody and that superstar aura to it that made it stand out like facial hair on some street-trawling harlot from Budapest with more kids than teeth and halitosis that'll set off a geiger counter. And it sounds like pop, unlike it's predecessors, which were more disco, funk, and R&B orientated. And despite being taken down a peg by most critics, I still regard this album as a cracker of a record. A-

Album Review : Van Halen - Van Halen II (1979)

Van Halen's debut album was regarded by many as one of the greatest 'lightweight' metal albums ever released, and showcased Eddie Van Halen's talent with the electric ax as an example for future guitar legends to follow. Many a jaw dropped in sheer awe when rock music fantatics first heard his "Eruption" solo, and likewise, many balls dropped when guitar legend hopefuls first heard him shredding that guitar like a cat on catnip trying to tear the living room carpet a new one. Here was a band that made hyperactive, no frills and no 'questions asked' music that dared to try things that, had most bands being asked to do, would've have replied, "We're outta here, man." Take "Ice Cream Man', for example. What the hell does this have to do with heavy metal and hard rock?" you might ask. Well, absolutely nothing. But it demonstrates why Van Halen seems to get away with a lot of things. Their entire discography has seen three lead singers, they've put songs like "Happy Trails" on their albums, and their original (and again present) lead singer has allegedly been diagnosed with ADHD. Surely all this makes for one of the most interesting rock bands in history. And it does. It most certainly does. Van Halen sounds just as good regardless of whoever is behind the mike, be it David Lee Roth, Sammy Hagar, or even Gary Cherone.

Now, looking at Van Halen II, their second effort, the musical prowess of the original album seems absent or watered down, but despite lacking what made their first a success, it is in no way a bad album. They have made better, no doubt about that, but there are worse alternatives. Like Fair Warning, or sodomizing yourself with barbed wire dipped in iodine. Songs like, "You're No Good", "D.O.A", and "Dance the Night Away", are the ones to listen to. Sure, they sound like diluted cuts from their debut album, but even though they lack the same luster of Van Halen, they would still warrant a stabbing were you to give them the fast forward treatment. And if you like faster-than-light acoustic riffs, "Spanish Fly" is right up your alley. My verdict - you should own this album if you like Van Halen. B+

Album Review: The White Stripes - Elephant (2003)

The Ramones were made famous because of it, AC/DC gets away with it, and now, in the 21st Century, we have, once again, another act that makes musical simplicity sound cool. So simple, in fact, they only consist of only two members - a former husband and wife duo with a red, black and white color scheme as their image. They are known as The White Stripes, and as far as contemporary music goes they are the best thing since the invention of the zipper fly for the well hung. To me, this album is comparable to a Toyota Altezza (aka Lexus IS200) - it has the potential to be lethargically boring in all it's appeal, yet it has a mystical aura so profound, even the bed-ridden soldier from Johnny Got his Gun (or Metallica's "One" video) could appreciate it. Jack White is a modern day Bob Dylan; he can write a song with thought provoking lyrics and deliver the package with a catchy tune to boot, and this is particularly evident in songs like "Seven Nation Army", "Black Math", and "The Hardest Button to Button." "It's True That We Love One Another" is a pointless, yet fun 'sing-a-long' with an interpersonal twist, whilst their cover of "I Just Don't Know What to Do With Myself" is well done but slow and slightly uninspiring. My verdict - buy this album, or be forever condemned as a nitwit. A

Album Review: Roxy Music - Avalon (1982)

Most music I listen to varies in appeal along a spectrum ranging anywhere between good and bad, but I've often found my view of Roxy Music's work, as well as that of Bryan Ferry's solo recordings, to be rather bipolar, in that one song may be as fun as sucking on an aspirin tablet coated with nail polish, and another will liberate your inhibitions and subsequently have you booked for disorderly conduct of some sort. It's very much a case of black and white, one and zero, yes or no. But the former is easily resolved with a press of the forward button on your music player, whereas the latter will have you wearing the reverse button out. For instance, "More than This" will bring a tear to your eye, with it's melodic, poetic beauty, whereas the silly-sounding, "These Foolish Things" will bring you down faster than elephant tranquilizer. It's either a work of genius or just a filler, and rarely will you say, 'yeah, I guess it's ok.'

Now, along with 10 million Roxy Music/Bryan Ferry greatest hits albums, I've owned a copy of 1982's Avalon since the industrial revolution and only recently have I been able to understand what makes this album so special, and why critics generally held this album in high esteem. When I first bought it all those moons ago I only liked three tracks, "More than This", "Avalon" and "True to Life" - the rest simply sucked, I thought. But going over them again, I can now see why it's on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 Greatest Albums of all Time. The title, the album cover, and the songs all come together to produce a record with a part-nostalgic, part-artistic and part-genius aura to it. You might be thinking I was on drugs when I wrote this, but nothing could be further from the truth - it really has a certain quality to it that I can't put my finger on, and that's why I think it's simply a great album. A-

Album Review: Bob Dylan - Another Side of Bob Dylan (1964)

I really like Bob Dylan's music, don't get me wrong. He is a true legend, the best songwriter ever, and has worn some pretty out-of-it clothes throughout his career. But, like all other greats, he has his pitfalls, and sadly, this album is one of very few. And I'm going to be short and blunt about it. It is pretty much crap, and is one of Bob's worst works. But anyway, let's get down to business...

It terms of musical enjoyment, this album is up there with a colonoscopy, if you'll pardon the pun. It starts with a dreadful prepubescent cacophony called "All I Really Want to Do", which should end with "is return the record", and concludes with the worst song to ever grace a Greatest Hits compilation, "It Ain't Me, Babe." Most of the songs are boring, tedious and coma inducing, except for two notable exceptions - "Motorpsycho Nitemare", the most intelligent song on the album, and "My Back Passage...I mean Pages", which are only really useful for when you have little time left and you need to stretch things out a bit. And putting the track listing on the front cover is frankly a pathetic idea - it's like waddling into a classy uptown bar and trying to score sympathy sex by telling people you're dying of AIDS. Still, at least this album comes to an end, just like the colonoscopy. My verdict - two songs are ok, but overall this album is about as pointless as pubic hair. C-

Album Review: AC/DC - The Razors Edge (1990)

AC/DC is an extremely rare breed of band, in that not only did the band thrive after it's legendary lead singer carked it, subsequently throwing the band's future into jeopardy, but it also holds the accolade of being able to sound the same musically across it's entire discography - and get away with it. In fact, sticking a fork in the power socket is smarter than telling Young, Young & Johnson to come up with a new sound. But try telling it to them in front of their fans and some West Auckland mum's gonna be wearing your balls for earrings. Which would be a fitting statement really, given the nature of some of the band's material - Family Jewels, Ballbreaker, Got You by the Balls...all are appropriate to the occasion. Big Balls - not so much. On second thought, however, it would've taken plums for one to have had the cheek to propose the idea in the first place, so Big Balls is in there too.

Brian Johnson made his debut on 1980's breakthrough Back in Black, which would go on to sell 42 million+ copies and cement Johnson's image as the perfect replacement for Bon Scott. Sadly, most of the following albums didn't quite hold up as well, until 1990's The Razors Edge came onto the scene. It was brilliant; It had power, cheek, a tiny bit of wit, and plenty of screaming by Brian Johnson. His voice now sounded somewhat different to his previous works, and it sounded better - as if the boogieman had just castrated himself with a sledgehammer dipped in iodine and itching powder, or like Sammy Davis Jr. in Cannonball Run II where Dean Martin belts his knuckles with his shoe. Songs that got airplay, like "Thunderstruck", "Are You Ready" and of course, "Money Talks", are legendary, but set them aside for gems like "Shot of Love", "The Razors Edge" and "Fire Your Guns", because they are what make this album a must-have. My verdict: Buy this album, and stone anybody who dares suggest they create a new sound. A

Album Review: Ladyhawke - Ladyhawke (2008)

The last few years has seen a slightly odd trend in people becoming obsessed with things retro, in particular fashion and, to a lesser extent, music. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing in the case of music - in fact, it's the best thing since sliced bread (unless you're gluten intolerant, for which I apologize half-heartedly for my lack of sensitivity). But fashion wise this has been disastrous. In New Zealand, where I live, for instance, as far back as last year the 'mullet' for a while became all the rage. Which is great for the ego of self-conscious bogans, but not for the rest of society in general. It's a bit like getting 30 stone hookers with stubble, sweatrash and a bikini line like a backyard garden in Jamaica to do nude modeling. It is just plain bad, and should be confined to the era in which it belongs. Another bad example of retro gone wrong is the BMW Mini. Why bother recreating a piddly like brick on-a-roller-skate that's built like a Congolese malaria ward that only made strong sales simply because people felt sorry for it. Plus, the new one is practically German anyway. Painting a union jack on the top of a new Mini is like coating a moldy scone in raisins and calling it spotted dick (as in the pudding). In this day of age, it's small wonder Queen Bess II pomps around in a 2 ton Bentley that has a rated gas mileage lower than the entire population of Bikini Atoll.

But, as I've said earlier, not all things old fashioned are necessarily bad. Ladyhawke's self-titled debut album, for instance, is proof trying to sound retro can indeed be a good thing. And when you do it well, like she has, then you've got an album that belongs on a pedestal. She has done exceptionally well in recreating the 80s sound on "Back of the Van", with the synthesizer punching out melodies like a tired heavyweight boxer and a Cyndi Lauper-like anti-climax on the bridge leading up to the chorus. "Another Runaway", in keeping with the general mood of the album, has the climatic qualities of an 80s power ballad. Even the more mellow tracks, like "Paris is Burning" and "Love Don't Live Here Anymore" hold my attention for the entire duration of the song, which is good for someone who loves tempo. Plus, unlike 95% of music produced these days, you can listen to every single track on the album and spare the fast forward button. Retro never ever sounded so good, and her next album better be as good, if not better, than this one. My verdict - Best album of the 2000s - ever! A+

Album Review: Metallica - ...And Justice for All (1988)

To say that Jethro Tull makes better music than Metallica is like turning down an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord after a week long fast in favor of picking your nose for sustenance. It is the pinnacle of ignorance. In fact, if your ears are bleeding after listening to "Bungle in the Jungle", that's a positive sign...it means you've gone deaf. Had you otherwise listened to that wretched cacophony with fully functioning eardrums, chances are you would've dropped dead immediately. Even Satan himself would turf himself into the Lake of Fire 1000 years early just to get away from that garbage. Personally, I've never liked Jethro Tull's music on the whole, and, pending my own ears ceasing to function, I guess I never will.

Now, back in 1988, two albums were pipped to take out the Grammy for Best Hard Rock Performance. Metallica's ...And Justice for All, and Jethro Tull's Crest of a Knave. And guess who won? Metallica, you'd think? Alas, they didn't. And what a grave injustice that was, pardon the pun. OK, the songs were a bit lengthy and the album cover is a bit dull. Who really cares? Listen to "One", and you'll see why people love them. Listen to "Blackened", and you'll hear a symphonic masterpiece. Crank out "To Live is to Die", a fitting tribute to the late legendary bassist Cliff Burton, and even the butchest and toughest bogans will wail like a newborn baby being circumcised. Like I mentioned earlier a few of the songs are a bit of a stretch, such as the title track, but overall this album is heavy, poetic, extremely outspoken and lovingly crafted. To this day it is highly regarded by many, and not just metal fans either. It was a visionary piece of work that would eventually open up Metallica to a whole new audience - an audience devoid of the usual tats and mullets associated with metalheads. And that's exactly why it should've won a Grammy. A-

Album Review: Megadeth - Risk (1999)

Back in the late 90s, Metallica drummer Lars Ulrich allegedly advised former bandmate and Megadeth frontman Dave Mustaine to be more "risky" in producing his albums. Well, Dave took heed of Lars' advice, and it backfired - horribly. Disco music and heavy metal go together about as well as a peanut butter, cucumber and licorice sandwich topped with worcestershire sauce. Someone's bound to like it, but whoever they are, they are clearly mutants and should be put down like a half deaf, half blind three-legged cat that's just suffered a crippling stroke. And Risk is no different. Not only was it not worth the 'risk', it's by far Megadeth's most boring album ever. It makes St. Anger look like Rain in Blood, and makes Another Side of Bob Dylan look like Rust Never Sleeps. If you like Megadeth you will eventually buy it, but like St. Anger it'll be for collector's purposes. Overall, it's about as fun to listen to as vomiting with tonsilitis, and half as exciting as morris dancing. D

Album Review: Dire Straits - Brothers in Arms (1985)

Dire Straits have never been known as a band who put out five star albums; yet strangely, there's no shortage of people out there who regard them as five star musicians. Some of their albums have some classic little numbers that'll get over-ecstatic drunkards starting mexican waves within the comfort of their own home whenever "Twisting by the Pool" comes up on the playlist, and rock DJs have no doubt received threats of a wild stabbing by some short-fused reprobate cat rapist from Gisborne on home detention for not playing "Romeo and Juliet" during the song request period. Despite the high regard held for the band by countless fans, the albums as they are never quite stack up, particularly among rock critics and to a lesser extent, the fans themselves. For instance, had "Industrial Disease" been cut from Love over Gold, it's fair to say that the album could very well have ended up in the $2.99 bin at K-Mart for use as a novelty clock or beer coaster.

1985's Brothers in Arms gets off better than the rest of the Dire Straits discography, but not by much. Despite holding the status of being the first album to be recorded entirely using digital equipment (DDD, compared to ADD or AAD), and to have CD sales outstrip vinyl, it still lacks the musical aura and charisma of an typical 12 million+ selling album that you hear every music lover talking about. With songs like "Money for Nothing", "Walk of Life", "Brothers in Arms", "Why Worry" and "So Far Away", it should, by all rights, be hailed universally as a masterpiece, yet it doesn't, probably because most of the songs extend well past the average attention span of a human. "Money for Nothing" got cut back to 4:10, most probably because 85% of listeners tend to drift off to la-la land after then. And apparently, co-producer Neil Dorfsman threatened to cut "Walk of Life", and I can see why; it's like getting Bongo the crack-addled clown to sing cheery kiddie's songs to a group of suicidal emos. It's exactly the opposite of what the whole album is all about. Not necessarily a bad thing though; "Walk of Life" is a song I'll never get sick of. And "Money for Nothing" is a great song to hear over the phone whenever you call the Welfare office.

Overall, the album is a classic, not because it's a collection of fantastic songs, which it should be, but because of its pioneering status, and the fact that it holds great value as a collector's item. Stick to the hits on this one, and forget about the rest. B+

Album Review: Icehouse - Flowers (1980)

Two significant events occurred in Australian music history in 1980 that would alter the industry's direction forever - Bon Scott supposedly choked to death on his own chunder, and a pop group called Flowers would release their most excellent debut album, only to wisely change their name to Icehouse shortly after. When you first buy this album, the first thing you'll do is play all the tracks that got radio play. And that is very wrong. When you listen to this album in it's entirety, you'll be excited, overjoyed, thrilled. It's the same feeling a cocaine-addled streaker gets when he runs across a footy field during the Rugby World Cup grand final. And you would too, only rather than advertising Vodafone's latest and greatest mobile pricing plan you'll be making a complete berk of yourself, waving about a copy of Flowers in your hand and shaking off sarcastic jeers for you to buy a big-as car with the biggest, most powerful motor possible. And with songs like "Sister", "Walls", and "Can't Help Myself," you'll end up chucking your radio out the window. Because when the songs that get radio airplay sound worse (but still very good) than the rest of the album, it means the album deserves classic status. A-

Album Review: Bob Dylan - Good as I Been to You (1992)

From singing pseudo-witty ballads about smoking pot and getting stoned, to songs of racial bias and injustice, Bob Dylan has, with much justification, made his mark in modern recording history as a renowned folk singer and songwriter, despite the fact his nasal pubescent yodeling has the propensity to set off fire alarms and scare all bird life away within a two-kilometer radius. Despite the lack of vocal prowess, he makes up for it with exceptionally well-crafted and thought-provoking lyrics, with equally happy-go-lucky melodies to boot. Songs like, "The Times They Are A-Changin'", Blowin' in the Wind" and "Like A Rolling Stone" defined a whole generation of Kombi-driving shower dodgers out to espouse and promote the merits of public nudity and the delights of smoking rope fiber. And you're bound to be regarded as one of great musical taste and put on a pedestal if you mentioned that you owned Highway 61 Revisited, Blonde on Blonde or Blood on the Tracks.

Like much of his post 1979 work, 1992's Good as I Been to You is, unfortunately, not so-much thought provoking, unless it's suicide you are contemplating, and it is not so happy-go-lucky. It is dreadful. And unbelievably boring. Bob's voice sounds as if he's recovering from a car accident, and the decision to do traditional folk songs rather than his own was a very wrong one. For Bob to do a version of "Black Jack Davey" is like getting Slayer to do a cover of "Barbie Girl" by Aqua.

In a couple of ways I would like to write more favorably of this album, but that's rather difficult when you're trying to listen to a record that's done nothing for you except induce low-grade narcolepsy. My verdict - Leave traditional folk song covers to funky-smelling street buskers. D+

Album Review: Pink Floyd - A Momentary Lapse of Reason (1987)

Pink Floyd are regarded as sheer musical geniuses by many different people from different walks of life - record store owners, stoners, schizophrenics, bulimic teenagers with attachment issues and a penchant for self-cutting, bogans, the list goes on. And still, many others will see their music as depressing, down and out synthesized cacophonies that even an Emo couldn't stand. Dark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here, for instance, sound deep, dark and brooding after a couple of spliffs, but for the teetotalling it sounds melancholic, pessimistic and makes about as much sense to them as an Amish peasant watching The Matrix. The film rendition of 1979's The Wall is, likewise sheer brilliance to someone who can't stop giggling, thinks running up and down stairs is like watching the Millennium Falcon jump into hyperspace and forgets everything that lands on the tip of his tongue, but like Schindler's List everyone else is just content to drool profusely over the bare boobies scene like a starving Neanderthal at a Valentines all-you-can-eat smorgasbord.

1987's A Momentary Lapse of Reason is different, very different. It sounds exciting, optimistic, and stands out from the other Floyd albums for two main reasons, 1) Roger Waters had quit after their previous album and 2) You'll want to live after listening to it. It doesn't go on about drugged musos with oedipus complexes turning into fascist dictators, nor does it go on about former bandmates losing the plot and spending recording sessions in a catatonic state. But it does project a more positive side to Pink Floyd, even if the lyrics now and then suggest otherwise. And that is good thing, except for when you're stoned. A-

Album Review: Metallica - St. Anger (2003)

Making a heavy metal album that sets out to portray the interpersonal tensions within a band, seems, in theory, to be a great idea. In practice, though, it's like taking relationship advice from Josef Fritzel. And the idea of making an album that portrays a band playing in the garage for the first time is fine, provided the band is a recent startup and the album is actually a demo tape. Metallica made this the theme of their 2003 effort, St. Anger, and despite much hype and anticipation prior to its release, and somehow selling several million copies in the process, public impressions of the album went down faster than a suicidal Japanese businessman jumping off the 55th floor of a Tokyo skyscraper with an anvil in tow. And listening to the album, it's not hard to see why. Firstly, the drum snare is ear-bleeding awful. It sounds like a three year old tanked on caffeine belting the shit out of a empty paint can with a pair of cucumbers. Secondly, some of the lyrics sound like they were written by the Rain Man, being repetitive and bearing little poetic quality. There are some tracks on this album that are bearable, but only on rare occasions. On the whole, this album is the low point of Metallica's career, and unless you are a serious 'Metallifan' or collector, then this album is worth giving a miss. My verdict - most people will shun it; but Rain Man will love it. C-

Album Review: ZZ Top - Recycler (1990)

ZZ Top's music has always been seen as the kind you'd associate with blokes sporting handlebar mustaches, who drive American muscle cars that'll make an SS Commodore look like a Reliant Robin and, paradoxically, have heart tattoos on arms thicker than tree trunks with the word 'mum' written across it. In other words, if one of these blokes told you to soil yourself, you would, for fear of being robbed of anything on you worth more than $29.95 and subsequently fed to a giant metal behemoth known as a Salvation Army clothing bin. This is partially true of their 80s and early 90s albums, where guys would turn up to their local servo in a 454 big-block powered hot rod cranking out "Sharp Dressed Man", wearing sunnies and tight black shirts with flaming skulls on them, just to project the image of manliness, when in reality they are actually saying, "I'm hung like a half chewed Tic Tac, I urinate with tweezers whilst sitting down, I have to wipe my nuts when I'm finished, I hope you don't get any ideas." And in reality these guys are usually skinny little 5"6" runts who probably had their fair share of being rolled home from school in a steel garbage can wearing the back of their undies on their heads.

Recycler is one of those typical ZZ Top records. On the whole it seems to follow on from Eliminator and Afterburner, however in other ways, notably a reduction in tempo and the absence of synthesizers, it also marks a change in musical direction. "2000 Blues", for instance, sounds like Afterburner's "Rough Boy" on pot. Other tracks, like "Penthouse Eyes", "Lovething" and "Tell It", also reflect the slower change in pace, as well as introducing a new, seemingly experimental sound. In contrast, "Burger Man", "Decision or Collision" and "Doubleback" could quite comfortably squeeze in amongst tracks likes "I Need You Tonight", "Thug" or "Velcro Fly." And of course, there's the final track, "Doubleback", which was featured in Back to the Future III. As a slightly interesting fact, the band actually featured in the movie, minus their trademark sunnies, with Gibbons and Hill plucking away on accoustic guitars and Beard beating away on a primitive drum kit.

Overall, Recycler is an album that will appeal to the more adventurous and open-minded ZZ Top fan, and although it is closely related to it's two predecessors, it's probably not the ideal album to listen to for those who are justing getting into the Texas Weird Beard's works. B+

Album Review: The Offspring - Smash (1994)

The last time I got into The Offspring, it was 2001, and the album was Ixnay on the Hombre. There were two songs that I thought were just the cat's ass, "The Meaning of Life" and "I Choose." The rest of the album got pooh-poohed faster than a drunken flasher at a Women's Refuge. Since then I never thought once about investing or even listening to an Offspring CD, until recently. Smash is one of those very rare albums where the crappiest tracks get radio play and all the good ones don't. It is, in many aspects, very much the opposite of Ixnae on the Hombre. You can forget "Come out and Play" and "Self-Esteem", they are bollocks compared to the rest of the album, and will put you to sleep faster than a London pantomime in 35 degrees celsius weather. Therefore you should only really listen to them when you've been excessively liberal with your caffeine intake and you need to get up early the next morning, or you want to die and need something to help speed up the process. Hell, even that pointless and stupid 26 second intro, "Time to Relax" is more exciting. All up, however, it is a very good album, and is an essential addition to any punk rock fanatic's collection. A-

Album Review: Green Day - Dookie (1994)

Green Day, for me, has the accolade of being one of the very few 90's rock bands I actually like. Along with the likes of The Offspring and Rancid, they successfully reintroduced punk rock back into the mainstream. Pop music flourished and produced countless memorable hits during this era, but for me, rock was nearly dead. Comatose and on life support, would be a better way of putting it. But, to be honest I must confess I'm a closet punk rock fanatic, despite my many years of living in denial. Discovering the greatness of punk for me, is like a morbidly obese unemployed bricklayer making a futile attempt to jump for joy after seeing his penis for the first time since he was 6. And after listening to Dookie, their breakthrough album, I feel like a serial arsonist walking into a convienience store to buy a new lighter. Of course, there's the tracks that got airplay, like "When I Come Around", and "Basket Case", but forget about those, everybody likes them. To really appreciate this record, listen to the rest of the album, and you'll be glad you were stingy enough to take notice of the bargain bin outside the front of the record store. A-