The 10 Best Pop(-ish) Albums Since The Beatles Broke Up

WARNING: Mostly white guys.

1. John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band (1970):

Argh. Where do I start with this one? Pain. Pain, pain, pain. Lots of it. A lifetime's worth of emotional baggage and disillusionment pressed on to one piece of vinyl. Alternative rock before such a thing even existed. Blunt honesty, aching sincerity, and painful, hard-earned truth? Nah. Too pompous. Better start over.
It's not that this is a particularly complicated album from either a musical or lyrical standpoint. Rather, this is an album so simple, so sparse, so bullshit-free, that to try and dress it up in the flowery language of conventional rock criticism would miss the point entirely. All it does is give it to you straight, over musical backing that somehow manages to be as raw, wounded, and intimate as the lyrical content, even when the gorgeous balladry gives way to a gut-wrenching screamfest like "Well Well Well". At the climax of the album, when all the instrumentation drops and Lennon simply sings "I just believe in me", you feel like he's earned it, 'cause you believe in him too.

2. David Bowie - Low (1977):

wait, no

2. David Bowie - "Heroes" (1977):

but then again

2. David Bowie - Lodger (1979):

This is probably Bowie's most underrated release, followed by... um... wait, wait, wait, actually

2. David Bowie - "Heroes" (1977):

By a very slim margin, this is probably the best of David Bowie's groundbreaking late-70s collaborations with Brian Eno, an album that takes all the sonic innovation of Low and beefs it up with 1) more focused songwriting and 2) the always-brilliant guitarwork of Robert Fripp. Bowie - oh fuck I forgot about that album he did with Iggy Pop GOD DAMN IT

2. Iggy Pop - The Idiot (1977):

When David Bowie and Iggy Pop fuck this shit, I wanna talk about something else

3. Ramones - Ramones (1976):

The glorious return of great rock and roll music, now in the form of what would eventually be called "punk". It never improved on the blueprint, though. How could it? No one did simple, straight-up rock like The Ramones, because no one did it simpler, and few rocked harder. Best of all, it's flipping hilarious, too. And in the spirit of their music, I'm keeping this review blurb short and sweet. 
Okay, so laziness is a factor too. Look, I'm writing this at four in the morning and I have shit to do tomorrow. Cut me some slack.

4. Public Image Ltd. - Metal Box (1979):

Coming out the same year as The Clash's London Calling, I've always viewed this as that album's evil twin - all the confrontational attitude of punk, but without any musical concessions to the "general record-buying public" (gee, can I be any more condescending? Never mind.) So what do we get instead? Death Disco. This is Never Mind The Bollocks for snobs, an album that has something to alienate almost everyone. And yet, the amount of musical innovation on display makes it impossible to dismiss. The rhythm section is solid as a rock, pumping out hypnotic, Can-derived grooves over which Keith Levene's guitar spews fractured arpeggios like a lawn sprinkler full of stomach acid. On top of that, John Lydon wails about such cheerful subjects as watching his mother die and being raped and murdered in a forest. And it's gloooooorious.

5. Utopia - Swing To The Right (1982):

Fuck objectivity. I love this album. It deserves to be here. Basically, the premise is this: Todd Rundgren's new wave-oriented side project notices America's going to hell in a handbasket, gets pissed, and releases an album that casually flips the bird at yuppie conservatism (the Steely-Dan-by-way-of-Zappa title track), music industry blowhards (Junk Rock, with its mindless robot chorus of "my name is music, I see that the music gets done"), and hypocrites of all stripes and colors (Shinola). An ancient greek anti-war satire becomes pop song fodder in Lysistrata, and Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 is transformed into an intentionally tacky disco monstrosity. In the midst of all this snarkiness, however, comes Rundgren's glorious ballad Only Human, soaring gracefully above all the spite and cynicism and giving the album the wounded heart it needs to balance out the cranky cleverness. It's also worth noting that, for all the negativity on display, this is still an incredibly fun, energetic album. It's just that the energy is galvanized and angry, and Utopia's usual cheery optimism takes a backseat to an urgent need to comment on what's happening before it gets any worse. It did get worse, of course, but you can't fault them for trying.

6. Michael Jackson - Thriller (1982):

Meticulously calculated pop perfection, an album that somehow translates obsessive studio craftsmanship into pure, unadulterated fun. Oh, of course Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' and Billie Jean are incredibly paranoid, uncomfortable songs at their core, but when put in the same context as the guilty-pleasure wimp-balladry of The Girl Is Mine and goofy horror-funk of Thriller, it just feels like another part of the same awesome party. Sure, you could make a lot of valid arguments against this album based on it's cultural impact. Yes, you could certainly do that. Go right ahead. I mean, if you insist. Oh, cheer up.

7. Public Enemy - Fear Of A Black Planet (1990):

Hey, check it out, I think I got this whole "rap music" thing down! All you need is an authoritative, commanding MC with all the charisma of a political leader, a lovably spastic sidekick, and a stew of samples and turntable scratches so dense and overwhelming that it's impossible to process in one sitting. I mean, simple, right? No? Well, maybe I still don't get it. But regardless of your own musical inclinations, I'd say you need to hear this album at least once, if only to realize how it puts most of rock's ideas of "musical sophistication" to shame. These guys (specifically their production team, The Bomb Squad) stack up samples in the same way Jimi Hendrix played guitar or Jaco Pastorius played bass. Put another way, it legitimizes the sampler as a bona fide musical instrument. Best part is, it never upstages Chuck D's considerable lyrical prowess, which is somehow every bit as dense and uncompromising as the music backing it up. It all adds up to some serious sensory overload, an album that doesn't just reward but flat-out demands your attention. It's worth every second.

8. Nirvana - Nevermind (1992):

I still can't imagine what a breath of fresh air this must have been when it came out, bridging as it did the gap between the ever-marginalized underground and the increasingly-lousy mainstream. In a way, this is like The Sex Pistols' Never Mind The Bollocks, revolutionary music in a naggingly catchy, slickly produced candy coating. Still, no amount of effects can dull the razor-sharp edge of songs like Breed or Territorial Pissings. Likewise, Smells Like Teen Spirit is still one of the best, most misunderstood generational anthems ever written. I'll even (almost) forgive the way Come As Your Are swipes the main riff of Killing Joke's Eighties because the rest is just that good. Grunge may have been a dead end road, but this album at least shows why people were to follow it that far.

9. Shudder To Think - Pony Express Record (1994): 

Two years after "alternative rock" hit the mainstream, this album ritualistically disemboweled it, turning the remains into a grisly, Damien Hirst-like piece of corpse art and leading the way to a bold new era of musical experimentation and open-mindedness. At least, that's how I like to imagine it anyway. Unfortunately, the truth's a little more depressing. Alternative rock was co-opted by the mainstream, and genuinely challenging bands like Shudder To Think were relegated to obscurity. I guess one can cram only so many musical revolutions into one decade, especially when one of your main revolutionaries looks like an much-gayer Michael Stipe and sings cryptic, prosaic lyrics in a nasal, octave-jumping vibrato as the band plays mind-bendingly complex, ugly-chorded hard rock that sounds like what you'd hear at a mosh pit in a David Lynch film. Nope, definitely not the stuff of a musical revolution. Still, in a more just, forgiving universe, some radio station like The Buzz is playing No Rm. 9, Kentucky with all the frequency that oldies stations play Stairway To Heaven.

10. Radiohead - Kid A (2000):

Well, it's not for everyone, that's for sure. This is an alienated, alienating album, full of cold, harsh, abrasive textures, nearly all of them either electronic or electronically modified. Thom Yorke sings like he's been frightened into paralysis. The lyrics barely make any rational sense. You have to look for the guitars with a fuckin' map. Even the softest ballads are nearly drowned out by their effects-heavy arrangements. Have you seen the cover? The spiky, computerized mountains and the apocalyptic, blood-red sky? That's what this album sounds like. It's the sound of feeling completely lost in a remote, alien world. It's like all the numbness and isolation that once informed their lyrics got translated directly into musical form via binary. It's like... it's like... fuck it. You know what? It's a Radiohead album, and this list needs a Radiohead album. There. I'm done. Go away.