Last Updated on March 15, 2026 by Black Sunshine Media
1971–1972 featured the emergence of jazz fusion and art rock, and the continued development of progressive rock. We’ll hear some cool progressive soul and R&B from Stevie Wonder. Meanwhile, record labels are pushing artists to release two, sometimes three albums per calendar year. Several double-dipping artists will be discussed below.
The Albums You Must Hear Before You Die…Or Not essay series is an ongoing rebuttal to 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die, edited by Robert Dimery. Originally published in 2015. Updated in April 2025.
The original essay series was bundled 1969–1971 and 1972–1974, whereas most essays only covered two years (e.g., 1975–76). As a reclaimation project, I rewrote and reorganized the must-hear albums from 1969–1974 in the traditional two-year grouping strategy. It’s a lot less bulky this way.

The game remains the same. I listen to these “must-hear” records on a mission to answer the question: Is this a must-hear album? Or not?
Must-Hear Albums Rating Key:
- Strikethrough indicates what you probably think it does
- Green indicates highly recommended listening
- Underlined indicates a questionable but ultimately acceptable record
- Red indicates a generally hazardous material
- Blue bold italic indicates ABSOLUTELY MUST HEAR BEFORE YOU DIE
Albums You Must Hear Before You Die…Or Not (1971)
Note: Suggested alternatives are from the same year as the contested entry unless otherwise indicated.
Can – Tago Mago (1971)
Welcome to Art Rock 455: Krautrock. The course syllabus is Tago Mago.
Carole King – Tapestry (1971)
Carole King is a major domino in adult contemporary rock, and there’s nothing rock about adult contemporary music. If you’re going to listen to Tapestry, you might as well listen to the Carpenters and Barry Manilow.
Creedence Clearwater Revival – Cosmo’s Factory (1971)
Creedence is a “greatest hits band.” Most CCR records have one or two hits, plus maybe a sleeper track. The rest is choogle. What is choogle? Choogle is white-boy boogie. There’s a 2007 article in the Austin Chronicle that puts way more thought into it than I’m willing to expend. And we’ve already heard plenty of it.
CCR released seven studio albums, which means they have approximately 20 good-to-great jams, all of which fit quite nicely on a single compact disc, Chronicle, Vol. 1 (1976), also known as Chronicle: The 20 Greatest Hits. [Note: “Keep on Chooglin'” is not on the greatest hits compilation.]
David Crosby – If Only I Could Remember My Name (1971)
Can we be honest about David Crosby? He was fantastic in the Byrds and CSN&Y, but his solo stuff isn’t must-hear caliber.
Elton John – Madman Across The Water (1971)
Like the other piano men, Billy Joel and Barry Manilow, Sir Elton John doesn’t have a must-hear album. He has several must-hear best-of collections.
But if you need proof, here’s Madman Across The Water. Call me when you get to “Indian Sunset”.
Emerson, Lake & Palmer – Pictures At An Exhibition (1971)
Emerson, Lake & Palmer – Tarkus (1971)
Yet another band that’s best represented by a greatest hits collection. If you have time to sit through Pictures at an Exhibition or Tarkus, you have too much time on your hands. Find a hobby.
Faces – A Nod Is As Good As A Wink … To A Blind Horse (1971)
The Black Crowes based their entire schtick on this album.
Faces are a great band, and A Nod is a fun album, but it’s not must-hear caliber. For that, you need Rod Stewart’s solo albums.
Fela Kuti & The Afrika 70 – With Ginger Baker Live! (1971)
With Ginger Baker Live! is one of three albums Fela Kuti released in 1971.
Flamin’ Groovies – Teenage Head (1971)
San Francisco garage rock, represent! “High Flyin’ Baby” sounds like the best outtake from Exile on Main Street.
Funkadelic – Maggot Brain (1971)
Containing one of the all-time best spoken-word album intros, and once you get through the 10-minute title track, Maggot Brain is one of the most delightful psychedelic funk records you’ll ever hear.
Harry Nilsson – Nilsson Schmilsson (1971)
Nilsson is a barometer for discussions about music. If I’m unsure whether somebody knows what they’re talking about, I’ll drop Harry’s name and wait for a response. If they don’t say, “You put the lime in the coconut and drink ‘m both up,” the conversation is over. Otherwise, I’ll nod and say, “And call me in the morning. Wooo-oooh.” Nilsson Schmillsson is pretty much at the pinnacle of his career.
Isaac Hayes – Shaft (1971)
South Park ruined Isaac Hayes for me. Fortunately, most of Shaft is instrumental. But I can’t help but hear the Chef on “Soulsville”.
Janis Joplin – Pearl (1971)
I’ve said some regrettable, derogatory things about Janis Joplin, but I’m not taking anything back or apologizing. Her brand of white blues rock rubs me the wrong way. Pearl might rub you the right way.
Suggested Alternative: The Electric Light Orchestra – No Answer (1971)
This is the only ELO album with significant contributions from Roy Wood, which makes No Answer the Piper at the Gates of Dawn of ELO albums.1
Jethro Tull – Aqualung (1971)
Jethro Tull albums generally follow the CCR Format. The title song is a timeless classic, “Locomotive Breath”, and one other really catchy jam on here, “Cross-Eyed Mary”, is genius. The rest of Aqualung is a drag. With flutes.
Suggested Alternative: Jimi Hendrix – The Cry of Love (1971)
The only posthumous Jimi Hendrix album worth hearing.
John Lennon – Imagine (1971)
The best line from “Imagine” is, “It’s easy if you try.”
Joni Mitchell – Blue (1971)
She wants to knit me a sweater. Joni Mitchell was the Taylor Swift of the 1960s and 1970s. If you crossed her path, she wrote a song about you. Blue is wildly overrated and torturous.
Led Zeppelin – Led Zeppelin IV (1971)
Everybody gets one shot to hear “Stairway to Heaven” for the first time, and it’s a magical experience.
Leonard Cohen – Songs Of Love And Hate (1971)
Fuck off.
Marvin Gaye – What’s Going On (1971)
There’s nothing not to like about What’s Going On.
Rod Stewart – Every Picture Tells A Story (1971)
When Rod Stewart was on his game, nobody could touch him. Every Picture Tells a Story is Rod in his prime.
Serge Gainsbourg – Histoire De Melody Nelson (1971)
I have no idea if you should listen to Serge Gainsbourg…or not. I made it through the first minute of “Melody” before bailing out.
Historie is a quasi-autobiographical “Lolita” concept album about the middle-aged Gainsbourg randomly crashing his Rolls-Royce into teenage girl Melody Nelson’s bicycle, and the subsequent seduction and romance. Yikes!
Many critics and pedophiles consider this Gainsbourg’s most influential and accomplished album.
Sly & The Family Stone – There’s A Riot Goin’ On (1971)
There might be a riot goin’ on somewhere, but not on this album. Sly is a greatest hits artist.
T. Rex – Electric Warrior (1971)
I kind of “get it” on Electric Warrior. British dudes have been dressing as women on stage since Shakespearean theatre, where women were banned from performing. This tradition helped normalize the concept of men crossing gender boundaries in a performance context. This is also why the U.S. had a lukewarm reception for glam rock. Ten years later, hair metal came out of the closet.
The Allman Brothers Band – At Fillmore East (1971)
The Allman Brothers’ brand of bluesy-swamp rock was essentially unrivaled in 1971. I’m a little too exhausted to argue for or against At Fillmore East, except to say it was produced by Tom Dowd.
The Beach Boys – Surf’s Up (1971)
Surf’s Up is a must-hear album for hardcore Brian Wilson fans and just about nobody else.
The Bee Gees – Trafalgar (1971)
The Bee Gees are insufferable, and they make horrible adult contemporary music. Listen to “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?” and tell me how it’s not the Carpenters.
The Doors – L.A. Woman (1971)
It’s not a must-hear album, but it’s probably my second-favorite Doors record after the 1967 debut album. I’m extremely fond of Jim Morrison, the drunk, but Ray Manzarek is doing a lot of heavy lifting on keyboards.
The Rolling Stones – Sticky Fingers (1971)
Sticky Fingers is a very nice collection of songs, but “Brown Sugar” hasn’t withstood the test of time. Those lyrics are atrocious. I can’t believe it still gets played on the radio.
The Who – Who’s Next (1971)
Song-for-song, Who’s Next is the best Who album.
Yes – The Yes Album (1971)
One of the most complete progressive rock albums ever made. Recorded in 1970 and released in early 1971, The Yes Album set a new standard for prog bands.
Yes – Fragile (1971)
In my vinyl-collecting days, I could count on two or three things from the cut-out bin.2 First, brace myself for a sea of Joan Armatrading. Second, I’ll find multiple copies of Fragile. And finally, there’s usually a good reason why these records wind up in the cut-out bin. In this case, it’s all the bullshit that isn’t “Long-Distance Runaround”, “Roundabout”, or “South Side of the Sky”. Eleven minutes of “Heart of the Sunrise” could have easily been a five-minute experience.
I’m not saying Fragile is an awful record. It’s got several breathtaking moments. But the record-buying public wanted The Yes Album II, and we didn’t get it. Hence, the cut-out bin. That’s okay because Close to the Edge (1972) is just around the corner.
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Albums You Must Hear Before You Die…Or Not (1972)
Note: Suggested alternatives are from the same year as the contested entry unless otherwise indicated.
Al Green – Let’s Stay Together (1972)
The first half of Let’s Stay Together is kind of like going to church. The few times that I’ve made it to the cover of the Bee Gees’ “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart” (track 7 of 11), I’m itching to get out of there. I’m at the “Let us now offer each other a sign of peace” moment in a Catholic mass, right before communion, when you know it’s all downhill. It takes about 10 minutes to dish out the wafers, and then the Old Pervert wraps it up with, “Go in peace, to love and serve the Lord,” and you’re out of there like Shazam!
Alice Cooper – School’s Out (1972)
Don’t let the title track fool you. School’s Out is not a five-star accomplishment. We didn’t hear anything else from this record on the radio because it lacks catchy material that leaves an impression. If only Alice had written ten versions of the title track.
There are some nifty moments here and there (“Blue Turk”, “Alma Mater”, and parts of “The Gutter Cat vs. the Jets”), and some stinky-choogle (“Public Animal No. 9”).
Let me clarify. If this afternoon, I heard School’s Out for the first time in my life, it woulda blown my head clean off my shoulders.
Big Star – No. 1 Record (1972)
Alternative rock doesn’t exist without Big Star. No. 1 Record is power pop at its finest.
Black Sabbath – Vol. 4 (1972)
Is Vol. 4 the best Sabbath record? I think so. It’s definitely the best Sabbath cocaine record, with Sabotage (1976) running a very close second place.
Burning Spear – Marcus Garvey (1972)
You don’t need to hear Marcus Garvey unless you absolutely adore reggae, in which case, you’ve already heard this. It’s not a bad introduction to early reggae, but it’s not the first record you should hear. Bob Marley and the Wailers are coming up very soon.
Curtis Mayfield – Superfly (1972)
Superfly is a fantastic soundtrack to yet another Blaxploitation film I haven’t seen. I don’t believe I need to see the film to appreciate the soundtrack.
Ultimately, the late Curtis Mayfield is why you should listen to this album. He’s such a fine singer. Goodness.
David Ackles – American Gothic (1972)
A poor man’s Neil Diamond, not that Neil Diamond was exclusive to the upper class. Neil Diamond, without the sequins and the hits, is a cross between the theatrical camp of Liberace and the everyman denim of Billy Joel.
Not surprisingly (to me), Ackles never gained wide commercial success—American Gothic is the first I’m hearing of the dude—but he was a huge influence on certain British singer-songwriters (by their admission) such as Elvis Costello, Elton John, and Phil Collins. I can think of a couple more cats who mighta borrowed a riff or two from Ackles’ shtick, particularly Meatloaf.
David Bowie – Hunky Dory (1972)
David Bowie – The Rise & Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars (1972)
Hunky Dory was technically released in the U.K. in December 1971, but didn’t really find an audience until mid-1972. The album’s sweeping cinematic pop stands in contrast to the brash and sleazy rock n’ roll swagger of Ziggy Stardust.
Deep Purple – Machine Head (1972)
In my review of Deep Purple In Rock (1970), I gave one example of why I hate Deep Purple (the extended guitar and organ solos). There are several reasons, but I said I’d give them another chance when Machine Head came out.
Now, I can articulate the main reason I hate Deep Purple. It’s the ham-fisted assembly of classical music, blues rock riffing, and overblown machismo. The cock rock. And Jon Lord‘s fuckin’ church organ. What little “feeling” may bubble under the surface (the mid-section of “Never Before”) is pummeled by posturing and instrumental gymnastics. The solos sound like rote scales between octaves.
The album version of “Smoke on the Water” is 5:42. The single version sent to radio stations was 3:54, which means somebody in the marketing department said, “You know, we could probably cut about a minute and 50 seconds of that guitar and organ bullshit.” And it became a hit.
Gene Clark – White Light (1972)
See No Other (1974).
White Light is a snooze.
Hugh Masekela – Home Is Where The Music Is (1972)
Home Is Where The Music Is is a very listenable soul jazz (Afrobeat) record from a South African legend.
John Prine – John Prine (1972)
On the whole, stand-alone singer-songwriters are overrated. There’s not much you can do with an acoustic guitar and a microphone, except sing a dozen variations of the same song. In the biz, that’s called a “set list.” At this point in the game, everybody should have followed Bob Dylan’s lead and recognized the importance of a band and the magical interaction between three or more musicians.
Of course, many Singular Joe singer-songwriters had backing bands (at some point in their careers), which is quite different than being the lead guy in a band. For instance, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were a real band with TP as the grand poobah. Wilco is Jeff Tweedy and some other dudes who care a whole bunch. On the other hand, John Cougar Mellencamp had a band, but they never got co-billing on the marquee. You bought John Cougar records, not John Cougar and the Mellencamps records.
John Prine was a songwriter’s songwriter, championed by a busload of folky-dokey artists including Bob Dylan and Kris Kristofferson. I honestly don’t know what that says about him. There’s one truly amazing song on this record, “Angel From Montgomery”, and several other cuts that have been covered by other artists.
By far the best part of this album is the cover, which, as you can see, features Prine posed, uncomfortably bewildered, on bales of hay. The A&R department of Atlantic was run by blind squirrels, but they certainly found the nut on this record.
Thus, my review of John Prine is complete.
Lou Reed – Transformer (1972)
This album sits precariously on the edge of essential listening, and it’s been sitting there since I dunno when.
Lou Reed’s solo albums are questionably important. As an artist, he hardly progressed; he only changed costumes. Some critics suggest that Reed was merely a follower; Transformer is Reed’s attempt to mount the glam rock bandwagon. The next decade of his career was one long question of “What the fuck is this guy doing?”
Transformer was one of the first records I ever bought with my lawn mowing money, based solely on the strength of hearing “Walk on the Wild Side” on FM radio. I was probably eight or nine years old, and boy, was I disappointed by the rest of the album.
Years later, I heard the Velvet Underground and realized that all the Lou Reed you’ll ever need to hear is contained on one of VU’s first four or five albums, from the debut album to Loaded (1969), approximately.
Milton Nascimento & Lo Borges – Clube Da Esquina (1972)
Come on. Couldn’t they put any less effort into the album cover? Pffft.
Suggested Alternative: Little Feat – Sailing Shoes (1972)
We lost such a great talent when Lowell George left this world.
Neil Young – Harvest (1972)
Neil Young digs back into his folk roots on Harvest.
Nick Drake – Pink Moon (1972)
I like Bryter Layter (1970) better, but this is a must-hear album for most people. And I think Walt Mink’s version of “Pink Moon” crushes all contenders, but that’s my opinion.
Nitty Gritty Dirt Band – Will The Circle Be Unbroken (1972)
Nope. The circle will remain intact.
We’re in banjo, harmonica, and mandolin territory now, i.e., the Nashville sound. This album’s biggest selling point is the appearance of traditional country artists such as Mother Maybelle Carter, Earl Scruggs, Roy Acuff, Doc Watson, Merle Travis, and Jimmy Martin.
If you were to acquire and listen to this record, you would almost certainly find yourself skipping forward every so often, not because it’s boring or overbearing, but because it’s a triple-fucking LP. Who do these guys think they are, George Harrison?
Suggested Alternative: Badfinger – Straight Up (1972)
Produced by Todd Rundgren and George Harrison, Straight Up is one of the forgotten power pop classics.
Paul Simon – Paul Simon (1972)
I’m exceedingly harsh on Paul Simon’s solo career because I’ve always been a Simon & Garfunkel guy. When they split, Simon took the songs, and Garfunkel left with the heavenly voice and redeeming qualities.
Critics thought highly of Paul Simon and his solo work. I couldn’t listen because I always thought, “How would this sound if Artie were singing?”
Randy Newman – Sail Away (1972)
One of my favorite things about Randy Newman’s songwriting is that he rarely lingers too long. Only 4 of 17 tracks on Sail Away make it to the three-minute mark. He gets in, he gets out. I love that.
Roxy Music – Roxy Music (1972)
This bizarre fusion of glam rock and postmodern avant-pop is one of the first art rock stepping stones.
The cover model is Kari-Ann Moller, who later married Chris Jagger, brother of Mick Jagger.
Slade – Slayed? (1972)
Slade is somewhat underrated. These cats sold their souls for rock n’ roll, back when rock n’ roll meant something. You’re certainly not going to find a band with such a focused aim on the lowest common denominator. These guys spelled stupid, s-t-o-o-p-i-d. They also had a bunch of good-time party jams, many of which all too often sound a lot like choogle. But I like ‘em. They appeal to my inner child. This record is the Saturday morning cartoon of rock music.
I just left the room to have a smoke on the balcony while Slayed? was lingering on the sound system. We were in the vicinity of Track 3. I came back to the room five minutes later to hear “I Won’t Let It Happen Again”, and the first thing that popped into my head was, “Oh, this bullshit is still on? Christ.”
And then the jam faded out. Can you guess what happened next?
“Move Over”. Whoa! I forgot about this jam. This is the best Janis Joplin song I’ve ever heard! Except it’s not Janis Joplin. What a relief!
Steely Dan – Can’t Buy A Thrill (1972)
Not yet. The jazz rock stylings of Steely Dan are an acquired taste. Can’t Buy a Thrill is just OK. Things get cooking next year on Countdown to Ecstasy (1973).
“Reelin’ in the Years” and “Dirty Work” are on this record; so are “Do It Again” and “Turn That Heartbeat Over Again.” This is Steely Dan Jr., and not a must-hear album
Relax, you’re going to hear plenty of Steely Dan.
Stevie Wonder – Music of My Mind (1972)
From 1961–1971, Stevie Wonder was locked into a recording contract with Motown that gave him free rein to produce his music, but the label maintained creative control over the final product.
Wonder turned 21 and let his contract expire. He independently recorded a pair of albums, Where I’m Coming From (1971) and Music of My Mind, that he used as a bargaining chip with Motown.
The label heard these albums and offered Wonder a new contract with full creative control and a better royalty rate.
Music of My Mind didn’t sell very well, but it represents the start of Wonder’s classic period, and he’ll dominate the charts in the next few years. The highlights include “Love Having You Around”, “Superwoman”, and “Happier Than the Morning Sun”.
Stevie Wonder – Talking Book (1972)
As I was saying about Stevie Wonder’s classic period, here we go. I can do without “You Are the Sunshine of My Life”, but the rest of Talking Book is killer.
T. Rex – The Slider (1972)
Did you know that Ringo Starr produced a documentary about T.Rex called Born to Boogie (1972)? It goes a long way toward explaining how Marc Bolan’s brand of glam rock and boogie became such a sensation. I still don’t get the appeal, but I understand it better now.
Eagles – Eagles (1972)
Do we call them Eagles or the Eagles? It’s always been so confusing. Lebowski says, “I hate the fuckin’ Eagles, man.” According to their official website, it’s just Eagles.
The Eagles’ debut album featured three Top 40 singles with “Take It Easy”, “Witchy Woman”, and “Peaceful Easy Feeling”, which are now inescapable from pop culture. The album played a major role in popularizing the Southern California country rock sound. Cunts.
If there’s anything worse than “Peaceful Easy Feeling” on this record, there are two things for certain. (1) It was written (and sung) by Glenn Frey. (2) It’s called “Chug All Night” and repulsively, it’s not about drinkin’ beer and shootin’ at possums in the woods out back; it’s about Glenn Frey’s sweaty, fermenting paunch, repeatedly slamming against the tramp stamp of some unfortunate, camel-backed woman he met at a Weight Watchers seminar.
Suggested Alternative:
Anything. Any fucking record you can find.
The Rolling Stones – Exile On Main Street (1972)
Everybody says this is the best of the must-hear Stones albums, and I say it’s just another victim of the Double LP Syndrome. There is one album of good jams on this record. They are:
| Side 1 “Rocks Off” “Rip This Joint” “Tumbling Dice” “Sweet Virginia” “Torn and Frayed” “Loving Cup” Side 2 “Happy” “Ventilator Blues” “All Down the Line” “Shine A Light” “Pass the Wine (Sophia Loren)” “Dancing in the Light” |
The Temptations – All Directions (1972)
Even though the Temps were at the forefront of so-called psychedelic soul, you must hear about five minutes of “Papa Was a Rolling Stone”, which clocks in at 11:45 total running time.
I feel bad for these cats. They got jammed into the psychedelic soul trope by Motown. They were better than that.
Todd Rundgren – Something/Anything? (1972)
I’m a robust Todd Rundgren fan, yet I struggle to make it through another double album in 1972. But you can count on Todd to deliver some classic power pop (“Couldn’t I Just Tell You”), R&B (“Wolfman Jack”), psychedelia (“Breathless”), and avant-pop (“Hello, It’s Me”).
Something/Anything is the sound of Rundgren learning to use the recording studio as a compositional tool. Many songs start with a C major 7th chord, but they go wildly different places.
War – The World Is A Ghetto (1972)
Yes, but…no. But yes. Let’s stick with yes. We could use more psychedelic and progressive soul music in our lives.
Yes – Close To The Edge (1972)
This is the last must-hear album in the Yes catalog, and, quite possibly, the best progressive rock album of all time.
Did you enjoy our breakdown of the must-hear albums from 1971–1972? Let us know in the comments, and share this post on social media!
- Piper at the Gates of Dawn (1967) is the only Pink Floyd album to feature significant contributions from founding member Syd Barrett. In my opinion, Piper is the best Pink Floyd album. ↩︎
- Record stores selling new and used vinyl have a “tiered system” of displaying records. Super pricy imports and specialty records are on the wall behind the counter, out of reach. Mainstream merchandise is between waist and eye level. For used vinyl, the good stuff will be in the mainstream bins. The next-to-worthless records are in bins on the floor. We call this the “cut-out bin”. ↩︎



