The Afghan Whigs - Gentlemen (1993)

From allmusic (4.5/5) :

"The Afghan Whigs' sound was growing larger by the release during the days on Sub Pop, so the fact that Gentlemen turned out the way it did wasn't all that surprising as a result ("cinematic" was certainly the word the band was aiming for, what with credits describing the recording process as being "shot on location" at Ardent Studios). While Gentlemen is no monolith, it is very much of a piece at the start. While "If I Were Going" opens things on a slightly moodier tip, it's the crunch of "Gentlemen," "Be Sweet," and "Debonair" that really stands out, each of which features a tightly wound R&B punch that rocks out as much as it grooves, if not more so. Greg Dulli's lyrics immediately set about the task of emotional self-evisceration at the same time, with lines like "Ladies, let me tell you about myself — I got a dick for a brain" being among the calmer points. The album truly comes into its own with "When We Two Parted," though, as sad countryish guitars chime over a slow crawling rhythm and Dulli's quiet-then-anguished detailing of an exploding relationship. From there on in, things surge from strength to greater strength, sometimes due to the subtlest of touches — the string arrangement on "Fountain and Fairfax" or the unexpected, resigned lead vocal from Scrawl's Marcy Mays on "My Curse," for instance. Other times, it's all the much more upfront, as "What Jail Is Like," with its heartbroken-and-fierce combination of piano, feedback, and drive building to an explosive chorus. Dulli's blend of utter abnegation and masculine swagger may be a crutch, but when everything connects, as it does more often than not on Gentlemen, both he and his band are unstoppable."

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Also:
The Afghan Whigs - Congregation (1992)

Galaxie 500 - Copenhagen (1997)

From allmusic (4/5):

"A presumably final punctuation mark on Galaxie 500's work, Copenhagen, released in 1997, is actually a recording from the last date of the band's late 1990 European tour, captured for radio broadcast in the Danish capital in front of a vocally appreciative crowd. One main reason to listen in is hearing how the band's studio approach clearly differed from the concert arena -- while Kramer handles the live sound, the cocooning web of reverb familiar from the records isn't present here. As a result, the performances have a more direct approach, Wareham's voice a little more naked, his thoughts on emotional connection, and the oddities of life easier to capture. Yang's bass gains in prominence as well, almost more so than Wareham's guitar at points, while Krukowski as always keeps the beat well, adding subtle flourishes and touches as he goes. All this would be mere technical notation if the performance itself wasn't worthy, though, and that it is. Touring for This Is Our Music as the trio was, the set list is mostly focused on that, though a fine version of "Decomposing Trees" starts things off. Three of the band's favored covers close the set -- Yoko Ono's "Listen, the Snow Is Falling," the Velvet Underground's "Here She Comes Now," and a version of Jonathan Richman's "Don't Let Our Youth Go to Waste" that provides a great final kick. For all the excellence of the show, one can hear a little more than once in Wareham's soloing what Yang and Krukowski later described as his tendency to play the big rock star toward the end of the band's life. It's not bad work, but the cracks were starting to show. Longtime Galaxie 500 fanatic Byron Coley provides the detailed essay in the booklet, a useful history of the group and its influence."

I've really been feeling this album as of late. It's so hypnotic; before you know it, it's over far too soon.

Anyways, get it here.

Kool Keith - Black Elvis/Lost in Space (1999)

From allmusic (4/5):

"After killing off his Dr. Octagon alias and resurrecting himself as an intergalactic Little Richard named Black Elvis (coiffured appropriately), Kool Keith returned in 1999 with his much-anticipated debut for Ruffhouse. Compared to the scatological bombast sprayed all over his First Come, First Served LP (released as Dr. Dooom on his own Funky Ass label earlier that year), Black Elvis/Lost in Space is remarkably tame. And despite jettisoning cohorts the Automator and DJ QBert, the results sound surprisingly similar to the Dr. Octagon album: sparse 808 beats, a few bizarre, faintly menacing organ lines for hooks, and a sample or two the likes of which have never been heard on a Dr. Dre record (like the odd banjo pickings on "Livin' Astro"). Also cropping up are a few of Keith's patented psychedelic nightmares (reminiscent of "Blue Flowers" and "Earth People"), including "Lost in Space," "Rockets on the Battlefield," and "I'm Seein' Robots." For "Supergalactic Lover," Keith injects a bit of stuttered Timbaland funk into the mix, though this tale of sexual prowess is appropriately schizoid. If Black Elvis/Lost in Space doesn't make quite the splash of 1996's Dr. Octagon, it's mostly because there's a distinct sense that Kool Keith is retreading familiar (through incredibly fun) territory. One thing's for sure, DJ QBert's scratching is definitely missed."

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Cornershop - When I Was Born for the 7th Time (1997)

From allmusic (4.5/5):

"When I Was Born for the 7th Time is a remarkable leap forward for Cornershop, the place where the group blends all of their diverse influences into a seamless whole. Cornershop uses Indian music as a foundation, finding its droning repetition similar to the trancier elements of electronica, the cut-and-paste collages of hip-hop, and the skeletal melodicism of indie pop. Tying all of these strands together, the band creates a multicultural music that is utterly modern; it is conscious of its heritage, but instead of being enslaved to tradition, it pushes into the future and finds a common ground between different cultures and musics. Like Woman's Gotta Have It, large portions of When I Was Born for the 7th Time are devoted to hypnotic instrumentals, but the music here is funkier and fully realized. Cornershop hits an appealing compromise between detailed arrangements and lo-fi technology. There may be cheap keyboards and drum machines scattered throughout the album, but they are used as sonic texturing, similar to the turntables, synthesizers, samplers, sitars, and guitars that drive the instrumentals punctuating the full-fledged songs. When it chooses, Cornershop can write hooky, immediate pop songs -- "Sleep on the Left Side" and "Brimful of Asha" are wonderful pop singles, and "Good to Be on the Road Back Home" is an impressive, country-tinged tale -- but what makes When I Was Born for the 7th Time such a rich, intoxicating listen is that it balances these melodic tendencies with deceptively complex arrangements, chants, drones, electronic instrumentals, and funky rhythms, resulting in an album that becomes better with each listen."

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Also:
Cornershop - Woman's Gotta Have It (1995)

Leoard Cohen - Songs of Love and Hate (1971)

From allmusic (4.5/5):

"Songs of Love and Hate is one of Leonard Cohen's most emotionally intense albums — which, given the nature of Cohen's body of work, is no small statement. While the title Songs of Love and Hate sums up the album's themes accurately enough, it's hardly as simple as that description might lead you to expect — in these eight songs, "love" encompasses the physical ("Last Year's Man"), the emotional ("Famous Blue Raincoat"), and the spiritual ("Joan of Arc"), and the contempt in songs like "Dress Rehearsal Rag" and "Avalanche" is the sort of venom that can only come from someone who once cared very deeply. The sound of the album is clean and uncluttered, and for the most part the music stays out of the way of the lyrics, which dominate the songs. Thankfully, Cohen had grown noticeably as a singer since his first two albums, and if he hardly boasts a range to rival Roy Orbison here, he is able to bring out the subtleties of "Joan of Arc" and "Famous Blue Raincoat" in a way his previous work would not have led you to expect. And while Bob Johnston's production is spare, it's spare with a purpose, letting Cohen's voice and guitar tell their stories and using other musicians for intelligent, emotionally resonant punctuation (Paul Buckmaster's unobtrusive string arrangements and the use of a children's chorus are especially inspired). And Songs of Love and Hate captured Cohen in one of his finest hours as a songwriter, and the best selections (especially "Famous Blue Raincoat," "Joan of Arc," and "Love Calls You by Your Name") rank with the most satisfying work of his career. If Songs of Love and Hate isn't Cohen's best album, it comes close enough to be essential to anyone interested in his work."

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Drive Like Jehu - Drive Like Jehu (1991)

From allmusic (4.5/5):

"Pitchfork was a fine enough band, but whatever happened between those days and the launch of Drive Like Jehu made the newer group a quantum leap forward, as this gripping album demonstrates. Starting with the deceptively calm then ripping "Caress," Drive Like Jehu lives up to the Biblical reference of the group's name by feeling like a heaven-sent storm taking everything along with it at 200 mph. The Rick Froberg/John Reis guitar team sound like they've been dipped in battery acid, wired to a power station, and let absolutely loose, screaming, nervous riffs piled on top of each other and taking off for Mars. Froberg's own wild scream singing suits it perfectly, sounding like something's about to give and leave nothing in its wake. The concluding chorus to "Spikes to You" is a call-and-response from hell, his strangled wail sounding like a last desperate cry for help, while "Good Luck In Jail" sounds even more like something from beyond a violent, horrifying wall of sound. Reis helps out himself every so often, with equally fierce results -- "Step on Chameleon" practically burns with threat both vocally and musically, Froberg's additional interjections on the chorus even more unsettling while the weirdly beautiful mid-song break takes things to an even higher level. Meanwhile, the Mike Kennedy/Mark Trombino rhythm section know when to cut out and when to go full out, throwing in a bunch of tempo shifts and changes per song without sounding like wanky prog rock wannabes. Everything is done in the service of intensity and emotion, winding everything up to explode and then explode again, as with the heart-in-throat shuddering start to "If It Kills You." Even the group's quietest moments loom with threat, sometimes just needing Kennedy's bass or a soft hum of feedback, as on the start of "O Pencil Sharp," to make the point."

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Pale Saints - The Comforts of Madness (1990)

From allmusic (4.5/5):

"When thinking of the finest dream pop records from the early '90s, The Comforts of Madness tends to get lost in the shuffle. Frequently and unfortunately, the Pale Saints were disregarded as just another part of the 4AD sound, lacking distinction and relying on the clichés of the time. Though they might have (arguably) fallen into those traps later in their brief career, their debut really does stick out from the remainder of the 4AD roster as well as the remainder of the then-current scene. The touchstones -- Jesus and Mary Chain, My Bloody Valentine, Galaxie 500 -- are somewhat apparent, but their debut is certifiably unique. Noise and melody duke it out, but in an arrestingly off-kilter fashion. Comforts is really as much of a "quirk-out" as it is a "bliss-out," experimental in many ways and apparently so from the beginning of "Way the World Is." The noisy rattling eventually gives way to wobbly bass and tunefully violent Wedding Present-like strumming, whipping up a tempestuous haze of frenzied pop. Throughout the record, the trio throws in countless tempo curveballs (with no sense of pomposity) and effectively balances the blasting chuggers with levitational banks of piled-on guitarscapes. The somewhat thin production lent by John Fryer and Gil Norton (on separate sessions) actually serves Comforts well, though it may take a few listens to settle in. The somewhat trebly, un-anchored production is properly suited for Ian Masters' boyish vocals, which sound like they're just on the brink of pubescence. His vocals are just as important to this record as Graeme Naysmith's guitars, not vanishing into the gobs of guitars like your typical shoegaze. "Sight of You" (retooled from their debut EP) is the centerpeice, a lovelorn gem that sounds vaguely like the lost track to Psychocandy. In whole, this debut remains a brilliant example of insular, adventurous, and charmingly flawed noise pop."

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Codeine - Frigid Stars (1990)

From allmusic (4.5/5):

"The cover of Frigid Stars sets the mood well -- a negative black and white shot of some stars, looking even more haunting as a result. As for the album, the tone isn't simply being cold or unemotional, but simply gripped by a deep black mood, where everything seems on the verge of suddenly going wrong or collapsing. There's actually a cryptic warmth in the slow tempos and feedback produced from the deliberate strumming and chords from John Engle and Chris Brokaw's guitars. It isn't the narcotic hush of Low -- there's actually a little more relative energy than that! -- or sludgy stoner rock à la Black Sabbath, but something else entirely. Bassist Stephen Immerwahr's vocals lend to that feeling, softly ruminative, sometimes straining, but never sounding self-important or whining (though sometimes the lyrics are creepily macabre -- check out the start of "Cave-In"). If one lets oneself go for the album's general feel, then it all flows together to make a touching, surprising experience, but those seeking variety aren't likely to be happy. It avoids sounding repetitious by virtue of the dynamics -- treat the entire album as an extended mood piece, and it works well. Engle's lead guitar work throws in enough heartbreakingly strong moments to help -- the sudden low swoop on "Pickup Song" is a standout, while the dark, forbidding drones on "Second Chance" are truly chilling. An interesting cover surfaces a few songs in -- "New Year's" (co-written by Bitch Magnet singer Sooyoung Park but not recorded by him until the first Seam album, Headsparks, two years later). Codeine here sound a touch cleaner than elsewhere on Frigid Stars, where the guitars can really sprawl when needed, but Brokaw's drumming and Immerwahr's great delivery mark it out as their version instead of merely a straightforward remake."

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Kylie Minogue - Impossible Princess (1997)

From allmusic (4/5):

"By 1997, much of the pop music landscape had changed. The music papers were declaring the "Techno Revolution" was on, Oasis and Manic Street Preachers were ruling the charts, and simple dance-pop seemed to be the domain of teenage girls. So what does the dance-pop diva of the '90s do? She recruits Manic Street Preachers' James Dean Bradfield, Sean Moore, and Nicky Wire, starts writing unaided, and completely changes musical direction. Enter Kylie Minogue's Impossible Princess (the title was changed to Kylie Minogue after the death of Princess Diana). From the trippy cover art to the abundance of guitars and experimental vocal tracks, this was her "great leap forward." The move got her in the papers, but, unfortunately, critical acclaim was lacking (and so were sales). Critics called it a mistake, and the public was less than impressed. Which is sad, because this is a pretty damn good record. Unlike her early work, this album sounds stronger and has a more natural feel. Her songwriting abilities have come a long way, and Impossible Princess actually flows together as an album. Worth another look."

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Throwing Muses - The Real Ramona (1991)

From allmusic (4.5/5):

"The Real Ramona marked the perfect balance of Throwing Muses' angular songwriting and latent pop tendencies. Where Hunkpapa tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to mix these elements, this album succeeds with surreal pop songs like "Counting Backwards" and "Red Shoes." They're catchy and riveting, clearly linked to the band's early material yet more focused and accessible. "Graffiti" and "Two-Step" are two of Kristin Hersh's most appealing pop snippets, but dark, uncompromising tracks like "Say Goodbye," "Ellen West," and "Hook in Her Head" reaffirm that she can still write troubling, fascinating songs like nobody else. And just before she left the Muses to form Belly, Tanya Donelly finally arrived as a full-fledged songwriter with the giddy, gleeful "Not Too Soon" and "Honeychain," proving that she could be a charming foil to Hersh's more challenging style. Their final album as a quartet, The Real Ramona highlights the best points of the group's sound, making it a great starting point for new Throwing Muses fans."

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Also:
Throwing Muses - Throwing Muses (1986)

Catherine Wheel - Ferment (1992)

From allmusic (4.5/5):

"Centered around re-recorded versions of four songs from the band's two Wilde Club singles and the seven minute lovelorn "Black Metallic" - which was referred to as the "Like a Hurricane" of the ‘90s - the deeply rich Ferment firmly established Catherine Wheel amongst the shoegaze contingent of the early ‘90s. The band would proceed to denounce the shoegaze tag, but it was a fitting one, at least with everything they released prior to 1993's harder edged Chrome. Along with bands like Lush, Ride, and Slowdive, Catherine Wheel buried their sing-along melodies in wafts of distortion and blurry production values. Rob Dickinson had yet to find comfort as a lead singer, so his somewhat fey and dazed emoting blended perfectly with Tim Friese-Greene's comfy production. A fair amount of the bands thrown into the same category as Catherine Wheel were criticized for lacking knowledge of their instruments, but a couple listens to Ferment should prove that they were hardly amateurish. The employment of numerous guitar pedals didn't serve as a smoke-and-mirrors ruse, and Friese-Greene knew enough to allow room for bassist Dave Hawes and drummer Neil Sims to flex their able muscles. Dickinson and lead guitarist Brian Futter were immensely skilled and complementary to each other from the band's inception; certainly they were one of the most unrecognized guitar duos of their stylistic brethren. Like all fine debuts, Ferment is varied emotionally, ranging from lust ("I Want to Touch You") to bliss ("Shallow" and "Salt"). It's a record that makes you want to crawl inside its sleeve and remain. It's as welcoming as it is insular and sheltered."

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Mazzy Star - So Tonight That I Might See (1993)

From allmusic (4.5/5):

"Thanks to the fluke hit "Fade Into You" -- one of the better beneficiaries of alt-rock's radio prominence in the early '90s, a gentle descent of a lead melody accompanied by piano, a steady beat, and above all else, Hope Sandoval's lovely lead vocal -- Mazzy Star's second album became something of a commercial success. All without changing much at all from where the band was before -- David Roback oversaw all the production, the core emphasis remained a nexus point between country, folk, psych, and classic rock all shrouded in mystery, and Sandoval's trademark drowsy drawl remained swathed in echo. But grand as She Hangs Brightly was, So Tonight That I Might See remains the group's undisputed high point, mixing in plenty of variety among its tracks without losing sight of what made the group so special to begin with. Though many songs work with full arrangements like "Fade Into You," a thick but never once overpowering combination, two heavily stripped-down songs demonstrate in different ways how Mazzy Star makes a virtue out of simplicity. "Mary of Silence" is an organ-led slow shuffle that easily ranks with the best of the Doors, strung-out and captivating all at once, Sandoval's singing and Roback's careful acid soloing perfect foils. "Wasted," meanwhile, revisits a classic blues riff slowed down to near-soporific levels, but the snarling crunch of Roback's guitar works wonders against Sandoval's vocals, a careful balance that holds. If there's a left-field standout, then unquestionably it's "Five String Serenade." A cover of an Arthur Lee song -- for once not a Love-era number, but a then-recent effort -- Roback's delicate acoustic guitar effortlessly brings out its simple beauty. Tambourine and violin add just enough to the arrangement here and there, and Sandoval's calm singing makes for the icing on the cake."

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The Postmarks - By the Numbers (2008)

From allmusic (3/5):

"In 2008, the Postmarks released a new song digitally every month, each song being a cover version of a tune featuring a number in the title that corresponded to the number of the month -- a pretty good idea to fight off the blahs of a tanking music industry and the rigors of recording an album all at once. The songs were all collected and released in November under the title By-the-Numbers. While many of the songs the group selected to cover are intriguing (Ride's "OX4" and the Ramones' "7-11"), inspired (the Jesus and Mary Chain's "Nine Million Rainy Days"), or totally left-field (the Ventures' "Slaughter on Tenth Avenue"), many are also somewhat obvious (the Bond theme "You Only Live Twice," Jobim's "One Note Samba"), ill-suited for the group (the Byrds' "Eight Miles High," David Bowie's "Five Years"), or just plain wrong (Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds"). Luckily, the band treats each song, even the less interesting ones, with a great deal of care and sympathy, wrapping them in warm clouds of reverb and gentle instrumentation that capture the autumnal melancholic beauty that their first album had. Tim Yehezkely's vocals prove up to the task of interpreting each song wonderfully as well (save the version of "Five Years," which just wasn't made for hushed reflection); she gives the sad songs a bucketload of pathos and keeps things somewhat breezy on the more lighthearted tracks. Some songs work better than others, mainly the ones that seem like strange picks. Their take on "OX4" strips away the epic nature of Ride's original and gets to the core of the song's intrinsic loneliness. (Oddly enough, the song ends up sounding more like the Cure than the version of the Cure's "Six Different Ways" the band attempts later.) Also defying expectations are the sprightly girl group-inspired "7-11" that comes complete with Spector-ized percussion, a surprisingly rocking version of Blondie's "11:59," and a totally surprising overhaul of "Eight Miles High" that turns the song into a Morricone-esque epic. Apart from a couple fumbles, By-the-Numbers turns out to be a successfully executed concept and a very pleasant listen. A proper follow-up with original compositions would have been preferable, but as holding patterns go, this one is just fine."

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Gang of Four - Solid Gold (1981)

From allmusic (4.5/5):

"Gang of Four's existence had as much to do with Slave and Chic as it did the Sex Pistols and the Stooges, which is something Solid Gold demonstrates more than Entertainment! Any smartypants can point out the irony of a band on Warner Bros. railing against systematic tools of control disguised as entertainment media, but Gang of Four were more observational than condescending. True, Jon King and Andy Gill might have been hooting and hollering in a semiviolent and discordant fashion, but they were saying "think about it" more than "you lot are a bunch of mindless puppets." Abrasiveness was a means to grab the listener, and it worked. Reciting Solid Gold's lyrics on a local neighborhood corner might get a couple interested souls to pay attention. It isn't poetry, and it's no fun; most within earshot would just continue power-walking or tune out while buffing the SUV. Solid Gold has that unholy racket going on beneath the lyrics, an unlikely mutation of catchiness and atonality that made ears perk and (oddly) posteriors shake. With its slightly ironic title, Solid Gold is more rhythmically grounded than the fractured nature of Entertainment!, a politically charged, more Teutonic take on funk. It's a form of release for paranoid accountants. Financial concerns form the basis of the subject matter; the hilarious but realistic "Cheeseburger" is a highlight with its thinly veiled snipe at America: "No classes in the U.S.A./Improve yourself, the choice is yours/Work at your job and make good pay/Make friends, great/Buy them a beer!" This is a nickel less spectacular than the debut, but owning one and not the other would be criminal."

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Erkin Koray - Erkin Koray 2 (1976)

From ignatius' review on RYM (4.5/5):

"This is my favorite Erkin Koray album, thanks to full, baroque arrangements and solid tunes. Here Koray comes across as something like a Turkish Scott Walker, a strong singer steeped in larger-than-life hypnotic melancholia, backed by terse, dizzying strings and some other Turkish instrumentation such as saz and other typical Anatolian percussive aspects, but the richness of the tunes and the blending of east/west pop approaches conquers all. Clearly, he's one of Turkey's biggest rock stars ever. Superb work."

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Also:
Erkin Koray - Erkin Koray (1973)
Erkin Koray - Elektronik Türküler (1974)

The Rosebuds - The Rosebuds Make Out (2003)

From allmusic (4/5):

"The Rosebuds are a hook-laden, energetic indie group from North Carolina plucked right out of Merge's backyard. Their debut long-player, The Rosebuds Make Out, is a strong and memorable record that sounds fresh on repeated listens. The disc is split between up-tempo rockers and weepy ballads. The rockers are what reach out and grab you on initial listens. Tracks like the goofy "My Downtown Friends," "What Can I Do?," and the buoyant "Kicks in the Schoolyard" are pop songs with sharp-as-roses hooks. Ivan Howard has a perfect rock voice, elastic and sharp, able to carry the tunes easily and with verve. For the most part the instrumentation on the record is spare, with guitars leading the way, but the occasional use of big, clunky, unironic synths make ballads like "Wishes for Kisses" and "Back to Boston" sound like a cross between the Cure and the Anniversary. Which is not a sound too many bands have these days. You can also hear bits of the Pixies, Yo La Tengo, and an old-school Merge band, Spent, in there too; all bands that combine energy with melody and end up right square in classic indie rockville. The only track that lets the side down a bit is the last track on the record, the overly long and repetitive "Make Out Song." Despite that minor hiccup, Merge has really picked a winner here; The Rosebuds Make Out is a sweet smelling bunch of songs by a very promising new band."

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Metric - Live it Out (2005)

From allmusic (3.5/5):

"In an effort to prove Metric frontwoman Emily Haines was not the only dominating personality behind the Canadian indie rock group's first album, Old World Underground, Where Are You Now?, the second album hammers home the fact that it's more of a group effort. Production duties were handed to guitarist James Shaw and Haines' trademark synths take a back seat to screeching guitars and more cohesive playing as a quartet. Despite the added punk rock punch the guitar gives, the bite of their debut is dulled by a weaker set of songs, with only minor aesthetic changes to mask the slight sophomoric slump. Live It Out desires to be a major step forward (Emily Haines would release her first solo album, Knives Don't Have Your Back, a year later), but the best moments on the album are the ones that recapture what made the debut such a compelling piece of '80s retro -- showcasing Haines' trademark keyboards and her effective cooing vocals, which manage to sound both cloyingly sexy and gutturally raw at the same time. "Poster of a Girl" transforms a few rudimentary French lyrics and an unassuming keyboard intro into a spacy, groovy dance track. "The Police and the Private" is an effectively simple and haunting keyboard-heavy song that shows Haines' best vocal performances are the down to earth ones (something she thankfully discovered on her solo album). As with Old World Underground, Haines has a tendency for collegiate-level prose when the band gets political, and songs like the "Combat Baby" knockoff "Handshakes" have a smug, elitist attitude about them, without providing much insight into their political beliefs. The first single, the hooky "Monster Hospital," is a light-hearted punk song with great non-sequitur lyrics, but the overdubbed guitars and big production typically reserved for an alternative rock album don't fight the overall motif of Live It Out. There's a reason Haines was featured on the cover of Old World Underground and it's possibly this: she's what separates Metric from other '80s revivalist groups."

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Guru - Jazzmatazz, Vol. 1 (1993)

From allmusic (4/5):

"Though it can reasonably be argued that rap grew almost directly out of funk and its particular beat, there are a lot of overlaps with jazz, particularly the bop and post-bop eras: the uninhibited expression, the depiction of urban life, just to name two. Jazz samples have also had a large role in hip-hop, but the idea of rapping over actual live jazz wasn't truly fully realized until Gang Starr MC Guru created and released the first in his Jazzmatazz series in 1993, with guest musicians who included saxophonist Branford Marsalis (who had previously collaborated with DJ Premier and Guru for the track "Jazz Thing" on the Mo' Better Blues soundtrack), trumpeter Donald Byrd, vibraphonist Roy Ayers, guitarist Ronny Jordan, and keyboardist Lonnie Liston Smith, as well as vocalist N'Dea Davenport (also of the acid jazz group the Brand New Heavies) and French rapper MC Solaar. While Guru's rhymes can occasionally be a little weak ("Think they won't harm you? Well they might/And that ain't right, but every day is like a fight" are the lines he chooses to describe kids on the subway in Brooklyn in "Transit Ride"), he delves into a variety of subject matter, from the problems of inner-city life to his own verbal prowess to self-improvement without ever sounding too repetitive, and his well-practiced flow fits well with the overall smooth, sultry, and intelligent feel of the album. From Jordan's solo on "No Time to Play" to Ayers' vibes expertise on "Take a Look (At Yourself)" to MC Solaar's quick and syllabic rhymes on "Le Bien, le Mal," Jazzmatazz, Vol. 1 (and what turned out to be the best of the series) is a rap album for jazz fans and a jazz album for rap fans, skillful and smart, clean when it needs to be and gritty when that's more effective, helping to legitimize hip-hop to those who doubted it, and making for an altogether important release."

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Saint Etienne - Good Humour (1998)

From allmusic (4/5):

"Good Humor has Saint Etienne back cooking up more delectable lolli-pop. From "Woodcabin," the dubby, bass-heavy opener, Good Humor is a typically arch Saint Etienne album full of easy-listening dream pop. Tracks like the shimmering "Lose That Girl" and the swirling "Erica America" show Saint Etienne at its melancholic best. There are, predictably, some near misses such as the Beatlesque "Mr. Donut," which is as sweet as a strawberry field but fails to deliver the melodic promises made by the smart atmospherics. "Goodnight Jack," with its pastel-shaded flute loops and subtle breakbeats, has a positively cooler-than-cool feel and a wrenching change of pace toward the middle of the song. Sure, Good Humor is clever, perhaps overly so, and yeah, it's full of the Et's contrived coyness and we-know-more-than-you attitude, but it's good stuff. Sometimes you just want to put on a disc, sit back, and let it carry you off to someplace else. If that's all you're looking for, Good Humor is sweet ear candy."

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Polysics - Neu (2000)

From allmusic (4/5):

"Will there be punk rock in 2050? Polysics pummels this question with an authoritative, "one, two, three, go!" before exploding into a crushing blast of spastic energy accented by insane, hiccupping electronic sound effects. The songs are concise, melodic and bursting with a twisted, angular intensity. If Cornelius was set on fire while fronting Brainiac, or Melt Banana was playing Wire and Devo covers in an arcade, it would probably sound something like this. Neu is marvelous, messy, and manic, with ballistic circus beats under fit-inducing raw crunches of guitar and psycho screams that may be too much for those prone to epilepsy. The pace is exhausting and the electronic squelches can border on annoying, but just when things start spinning out of control on Neu, the sleek, "What" brings the BPM down to half-speed for three-and-a-half minutes with a vocoder and sexy funk bass over a sound that resembles a dying Colecovision. Just before the song completely settles, it slams into an overdriven combination of synth loops, drum crashes, raging guitar, and a Japanese imitation John Lydon. There is a touch of camp factor involved, especially on the animé-influenced "Black out Fall Out," but the sugary cuteness balances out the raw, hard-to-stomach caffeine bursts for a wonderfully twisted adrenaline cocktail. If you are a fan of convulsive and hyperactive post-punk/new wave inspired music turned up full blast, treat yourself to a dose of this record. But, like coffee, it's well advised to start with just a little taste and work your way up from there: too much Polysics for a first-timer can result in a headache or a nervous twitch."

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Françoise Hardy - The Yeh-Yeh Girl from Paris (1965)

From allmusic (4/5):

"From the Bardot-like cover shot of a windswept and gorgeous Françoise Hardy to the oddly chipper title, this 1965 U.S. debut (originally released on the proto-world music label Four Corners) is clearly pitched at the adventurous edge of the U.S. pop market, pitching Hardy as the Gallic Petula Clark. (Clark was, unbeknownst to the U.S. market at the time, making terrific French-language pop records herself at the time.) Complicating this, of course, is the fact that Hardy's music, for all its catchiness, is stripped down to its barest essentials -- acoustic and electric guitar, bass, minimalist drums, very little else -- and Hardy herself sings her (mostly self-penned) lyrics in an attractive but chilly drop-dead monotone that's far removed from the perkiness of almost every other female singer (minus Nico and Mary Weiss of the Shangri-Las) of the '60s. Even the perkier tunes, like the enormous French hit single "Tous les Garcons et les Filles," have a measured, restrained quality. The Yeh-Yeh Girl From Paris is an outstanding record, but it's the '60s pop equivalent of Shaker furniture: free of ornamentation and exquisitely simple."

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Also:
Françoise Hardy - Ma jeunesse fout le camp...(1967)
Françoise Hardy - La question (1971)

Cocteau Twins - The Pink Opaque (1985)

From allmusic (4.5/5):

"After having built up a considerable reputation in the U.K. and Europe, the Cocteaus first fully reached America via this compilation, cherry-picking some of the group's finest moments for this trans-Atlantic co-release between home label 4AD and then-stateside label Relativity. None of the ten tracks had been released in America before, but whoever assembled the release knew exactly what they were doing in terms of whetting appetites. The only absolute rarity on the disc was "Millimillenary," originally turning up on a compilation tape given away by New Musical Express. It's a fine number, recorded soon after Raymonde joined the group -- a good mix of the Cocteaus' instrumental lushness and Fraser's vocal acrobatics. The version of Garlands' "Wax and Wane" included here is slightly remixed and arguably even better than the original, bringing out everything a little more clearly and powerfully. A sage decision was the inclusion of all three tracks from the Pearly-Dewdrops' Drops EP; as flawless as that was, all deserved inclusion, while beginning the compilation with "The Spangle Maker" was also inspired. Other cuts include "Hitherto," "From the Flagstones," "Lorelei," and the then-recent single "Aikea-Guinea." Concluding with the similarly album-ending "Musette and Drums" from Head Over Heels, The Pink Opaque is a lovely taster for anyone wanting to discover the peerless early years of the Cocteaus."

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