Last Updated on June 9, 2026 by Black Sunshine Media
As a rule, Black Sunshine Media is a good karma website, meaning, I don’t write negative stuff unless it’s exclusively within the context (or boundaries) of whatever I’m writing about. For example, in Top Rock Guitarists of All Time (According to Me), I mention some overrated players and brief reasons for my opinion, but the vibe is openly subjective. I know some of these opinions are out of step with prevailing sentiment, but it’s your job not to take it personally.
I’m going to call bullshit on 25 overrated rock albums, and explain why I think they’re overrated, and you can agree or not.
BSM Standards for Overrated: What Makes an Album Overrated (According to Me)
I haven’t published an “overrated” list since the mid 1990s when I wrote for fanzines in Chicago, when haters were appreciated and/or encouraged. Ever since, I’ve tried to keep things relatively civil, and most of my listicles have standards and criterion built into the narrative.
Each album was reviewed against the following criterion:
- Popularity: Good vs Popular
- Saturation: Its Influence Beyond Record Sales
- Critical Reception: Who Loved or Hated it?
- Listening Experience: Track-by-Track Analysis
- Hipster Cred: Who’s Backstage?
For greater detail, see this post, Hated vs. Overrated: Definitions & Distinctions.
The 25 Most Overrated Rock Albums
Guns N’ Roses – Appetite for Destruction (1987)
There was a time when most run-of-the-mill, American dive bars had a jukebox.1 And the jukebox invariably had Appetite for Destruction, among a dozen other albums like:
- AC/DC – Back in Black
- Bob Marley – Legend
- Santana – Supernatural
- Nirvana – Nevermind
- The Eagles – Greatest Hits 1971-1975
- Fleetwood Mac – Rumours
- Led Zeppelin – IV
- Michael Jackson – Thriller
- Garth Brooks – No Fences
It’s no coincidence that these records are among the best-selling records of all time. In my extensive dive bar experience, Appetite is one of the most played records, if not THE most played record. Bon Jovi’s Slippery When Wet gets an ungodly number of spins, too. The point is I know Appetite inside and out, and I wish I didn’t.
GN’R’s debut album was cool and edgy in 1987, juxtaposed against Michael Jackson’s Bad or U2’s The Joshua Tree, but the music is a beer-bottle spray at the lowest common denominator. The album and the band bridged a gap between the pseudo biker rock of George Thorogood, the zombie butt rock of Sammy Hagar, and the greasy cock rock of Aerosmith.
Despite one of the greatest opening tracks in rock music, Appetite contains three great songs and a bunch of hair metal B-sides. Those three great songs: “Welcome to the Jungle”, “Paradise City”, and “Sweet Child o’ Mine” are undeniably classic tracks that continue to bristle with energy.
The rest of the album (running time of 54+ minutes) is low quality hard rock with glam metal characteristics, ranging from lame to offensive, and Steven Adler is a drummer with great hair.
Appetite for Destruction: Track-by-Track
“Welcome to the Jungle”
As mentioned earlier, “Welcome” is a tremendous opening cut. Almost everything about this jam is phenomenal except for what I call the GN’R Drop [“When you’re high you never / Wanna come down / So down / So down”], which leads into another Slash solo and doesn’t really do anything for the song except kill time. Anyway, it’s such a good track that you might forget about the cowbell and Steven Adler, who’s barely keeping up.
Singing (aka a good voice) is not a requirement for the front man of a rock band. Axl Rose was a volatile if charismatic entertainer, and thus, shouldn’t be criticized for something he never set out to do, but I’m gonna mention it anyway. He’s endearingly awful.
Best Lyric: Do you know where you are, baby? / You’re in the jungle / You’re gonna die!
“It’s So Easy”
Primitive chord progression, zero vocal melody, and WHAT’S WITH THE COWBELL, STEVE? Meanwhile, the bridge is completely aping on Ozzy Osbourne. That’s what they call a “lift” in the business. Otherwise, the guitars sound good, but the riffs are dull and based on 4X, which means repeat four times, move to unrelated riff, repeat four times, etc. Count how many times they go through the riffs. It’s almost always divisible by four. And that’s lazy.
Meanwhile, Axl is howling about how “easy” it is to get over on groupie chicks. To say “fucking” on a record in 1987 was kind of dangerous but done before and done better.
“Nighttrain”
Starts off promising but quickly dissolves into a static riff and automotive sexual metaphors. Again, Axl isn’t singing, and he isn’t saying anything. The aural equivalent of a prison tattoo. Slash is particularly squealing, but Izzy Stradlin is holding down the rhythm. Izzy was my favorite.
Slash’s guitar solo is a compilation of multiple takes, and there’s no way he could pull that off in one shot. So, I guess I’m saying the solo is actually pretty good. Moreover, I like Slash. He seems like a cool cat. In a hat. Ain’t nothing wrong with that. He isn’t fat. His father is a diplomat. In a hat.
Oh, and Steve, if you hit THAT FUCKING COWBELL ONE MORE TIME, SO HELP ME!
The last two minutes of the song is “I’m on the night train” and two of the longest minutes in recent memory.
“Out Ta Get Me”
There’s one neat little guitar riff in there somewhere; otherwise, this might as well be Cinderella. The harmonized guitar bridge is quite interesting in the sense that it sounds like they’re trying to do a Brian May/Queen thing, but come closer to a warped ELO cassette tape.
Best Lyric: I’m innocent, so you can suck me / Take that one to heart
“Mr. Brownstone”
The most overrated song on the record, and an irresponsible glamorization of heroin. Dumbest lyrics I’ve ever heard. “We’ve been dancing with Mister Brownstone.” Fuck off. The track is arranged around a set of blues rock riffs lifted directly from a Guitar Player monthly lesson. When guitar players hit the Wah pedal, I think, “Oh great! Pentatonic blues scales!” Slash never disappoints.
STEVE. STEVE. I HEARD WHAT YOU DID IN THE BRIDGE. The infamous Saturday Night Live skit “More Cowbell” feat. Christopher Walken should have been based on this album. Maybe Lorne Michaels couldn’t get the rights, and Blue Öyster Cult was more than happy to give up “Don’t Fear the Reaper”. I dunno.
Best Lyric: Yowzah
“Paradise City”
During the first few bars of the intro I thought, Yikes, John Cougar is pushing the envelope, man. The whistle at the end of the intro = priceless. The verses are anti-melodic except when doubling the guitar licks at the end of a section, but the chorus is a HOOK.
This song is basically “Freebird”: two minutes of a great jam, and six minutes of filler. Slash is soaring on the outro solo, but enough is enough. It’s one of the few songs on the record on which STEVE DOESN’T HIT THE COWBELL.
Best Lyric: I’d have another cigarette, but I can’t see / Tell me, who you’re gonna believe?
“My Michelle”
Hey, the Scorpions called, they want their intro back. Of course, it dives right into a familiar, harmonized repetitive riff, and HERE COMES STEVE AND THE COWBELL. Axl’s vindictive Chuckie doll falsetto is an attention-grabber, but he has absolutely NOTHING to say and repeats it 128X in the chorus and outro.
No, I correct myself. Michelle is an underaged Hollywood heroin addict who had some kind of seedy arrangement with Axl (or an Axl-adjacent character), and now, we’re talking out of school. Makes me wonder if sexist machismo in cock rock is a blanket for cowardice.
“Think About You”
COWBELL. COWBELL. COWBELL. Seriously, this is complete shit. The vocals are forced. The riffs are exhausted. Overall, the band sounds dehydrated and disoriented. That’s pure Cheap Trick in the sub-chorus and outro. This is embarrassing cut and paste shit. Twenty-seven million copies of this record and counting? No wonder the rainforests are disappearing.
“Sweet Child o’ Mine”
Frankly, I would be forced to put this on a list of the 500 greatest rock songs of all time, and another list of the 100 greatest rock songs since 1980.
“You’re Crazy”
Like much of the rock music released in 1987, there’s a palpable lack of substance. Beyond aggression and posture, in this case, it’s a bunch of sad riffs pieced together and a kid screaming over the top. Pass.
“Anything Goes”
Hahaha. They’re using percussion that isn’t COWBELL: cassinettes. Please. This is Aerosmith without the Aero or the Smith. Oh, a talkbox guitar solo. Is that Joe Walsh? Assholes.
“Rocket Queen”
We’ve made it this far without mentioning Duff. He plays bass. Slash tries his hand at slide guitar. The porno sounds are gauche. And then, we’re treated to a detour into power pop. Bizarre. But you know we’re returning to the “Rocket Queen” chorus, it’s only a matter of How Many More Times? No detectible cowbell on this jam. THANKS, STEVE.
And that concludes my track-by-track analysis of Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite For Destruction (in real-time, too).
Pink Floyd – The Dark Side of the Moon (1973)
Nearly every list of the best progressive rock albums has The Dark Side of the Moon at #1. It’s one of the most influential rock albums of all time, though light-years from the best, and it’s not even Pink Floyd’s best album (see: The Piper at the Gates of Dawn (1967) or Meddle (1972)).
As much as I dump on what’s left of Pink Floyd’s legacy, some of their work has genuine appeal, but their most successful record is also their most boring work. Saxophone solos are never a good sign.
I’m tired of arguing with people about it, so let’s do another track-by-track analysis.
The Dark Side of the Moon: Track-by-Track
“Speak to Me”
Moody electronic musique concrète and a great setup for a non-concept album and a mediocre listening experience.
“Breathe (In the Air)”
I like this song, but it just sort of plods along. Great for bong sessions and late-night drives across the desert, but really kind of dumb. Breathe in the air?
“On the Run”
More instrumental synthesizer tomfoolery.
“Time”
OK, finally, something I can tap my toes to.
Best Lyric: Hanging on in quiet desperation / Is the English way
“The Great Gig in the Sky”
Pink Floyd’s earlier catalog has several vibey moments in the same vein, but it’s the first time they had a female soul singer wailing over the top. I can’t listen to that Whitney Houston melisma2 shit, man, all that, whoa-oh-whoa-ahh crap. Fuckin’ hate that shit.
“Money”
A solid, vaguely up-tempo rocker, and it’s in 7/4 time.
Best Lyric: Maybe I’ll buy me a football team
“Us and Them”
I mean, it’s nice enough. The chorus crescendos and juxtapositions are cool. Not a big fan of the saxophones.
“Any Colour You Like”
Pfffhhht. Nonsense.
“Brain Damage”
One of the best things they’ve ever done.
“Eclipse”
Pretty cool. An uptempo chugger.
The main components of Dark Side (and most Pink Floyd) albums are monolithic tempos, entry-level sound effects and synthesizers, spacey guitar, and placid vocal melodies. Dark Side has 6 good-to-excellent tracks (out of 10), but it’s low spots put it squarely in overrated territory.
Metallica – Metallica (1991)
I was a big fan of Metallica through Master of Puppets (1986), one of the best metal albums ever made and the band’s defining moment. But they never made another great metal record. Released a month before Nirvana’s Nevermind, The Black Album is corporate pop metal.
“Nothing Else Matters” and “The Unforgiven” set the template for a new kind of power ballad, which is not something I ever thought would be associated with James Hetfield, but here we are. If I were still a fan when these songs hit the radio, I would have been as pissed as the first time I heard R.E.M.’s “Shiny Happy People”.
“Enter Sandman” has a catchy chorus. Kinda repetitive. That opening riff is lame. “Wherever I May Roam” has whiffs and hints of old Metallica. “Sad But True” is plodding and predictable. The rest of the album is a recycling of the same themes and riffs. Nothing has the same urgency as “Battery” or “Master of Puppets”.
It makes me happy to know that sales of Metallica continue to make Jason Newsted a wealthy man.
Oasis – (What’s The Story) Morning Glory? (1995)
The unspoken rule of music is that everybody steals from everybody else. It’s how you steal that draws attention. Take away the unibrows, and the Gallagher brothers have snarky banter and massively overestimated confidence in themselves. Accordingly, Morning Glory‘s populist Britpop was significantly more popular in the U.K.
Noel Gallagher is a campfire guitar player, at best, and a cloven-hoofed songwriter who borrows wholesale from T.Rex, David Bowie, and the Beatles. Liam Gallagher is only slightly more tuneful than Axl Rose. Relatively melodic songs like “Don’t Look Back in Anger” have a sour and lumbering taint, like the biggest asshole in your local pub.
And I’ll give you a pick between the new nursery-rhyme power ballads “Wonderwall” and “Champagne Supernova”. You can’t say both are good.
Typical Lyric: Slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannonball / Where were you while we were getting high?
Joy Division – Unknown Pleasure (1979) and Closer (1980)
This might be my most unpopular take, but Joy Division’s music and image always struck me as “dopey,” as in: amateur and dull. Everybody around Ian Curtis was aware of his struggles with mental health, and it’s shameful to keep pushing his legacy. Poor kid. Anyway, there’s a reason you only hear “Love Will Tear Us Apart” on the radio: it’s their only (vaguely) good song. The surviving members became New Order, also dopey and overrated. If I’ve ever overstayed my welcome at your house, drop the needle on Unknown Pleasure and watch me head for the door.
Derek & The Dominos – Layla & Other Assorted Love Songs (1970)
A double album with 14 tracks and only two good songs: “Bell Bottom Blues” and “Layla”. The rest is weak-kneed, derivative blues rock with more pentatonic guitar scales than a Guitar Center showroom on a Saturday afternoon. It’s unusual to have not one but two of the most overrated rock guitarists on the same album, but Eric Clapton and Duane Allman have entered the chat.
The Cure – Disintegration (1989)
I’m a huge Robert Smith-stan, but South Park was out of bounds to call Disintegration “the greatest album of all time.” It’s not even the best Cure album. Granted, it’s got four solid tracks in “Pictures of You”, “Lovesong”, “Lullaby”, and “Fascination Street”, but several tedious tracks like “Same Deep Water As You” and “Plainsong”. For long-time fans, Disintegration is the Cure’s first overtly arena rock album—their Slippery When Wet. Count how many times drummer Boris Williams hits the wind chimes.
Miles Davis – Bitches Brew (1970)
Bitches Brew is one of a dozen albums I’ve repeatedly force-fed myself, hoping to hear something that makes sense of its critical acclaim. The problem with jazz fusion is that it’s not for listening; it’s for playing. They say Davis dissolved the barriers between jazz and rock on this album; however, I think that happened on his previous record, In A Silent Way (1969). No matter how many times I listen to Bitches Brew, I hear tentative and directionless noodling. Nothing really happens. The “free jazz” part of each improvisation never pays off.
U2 – The Joshua Tree (1987)
We could never say U2 sold out because they were designed for stadiums and motivated by world domination, but this album reeks of a God complex like Steve Jobs at Apple. These fuckers have it all figured out for us.
I’ve heard every song on The Joshua Tree at least a dozen times, and I like them less with each listen. “Where the Streets Have No Name” is anthemic garbage that wouldn’t have been a hit without a video on MTV. And enough with the delayed guitar arpeggios. It’s three notes. We get it.
“With or Without You” is the perfect adult alternative power ballad.
“Bullet the Blue Sky” is grasping for a sense of urgency exhausted on The Unforgettable Fire (1984), and Bono’s monologue is laughable. They’re the only band in rock to demand that you take them seriously.
Compared to some of their earlier work, The Joshua Tree is bloated and lackluster, at best.
Joni Mitchell – Blue (1971)
Disclaimer: I like Ladies of the Canyon (1970).
Rolling Stone has Blue listed as the #3 greatest album of all time, which is outrageously high on a list that covers rock, pop, and crossover hits from funk, soul, hip-hop, and jazz. RS also ranked Sex Pistols’ Never Mind the Bollocks (1977) at #80, so…we can’t trust ’em. Trust your ears.
In my opinion, Blue is one of the few albums on the list that doesn’t have a single good song. At least it doesn’t have a song I’m willing to sit through. I don’t enjoy the sound it makes.
As a rule, “breakup albums” suck because I don’t want to hear about knitting a sweater for James Taylor or whining about Graham Nash and attachment issues. While I appreciate the spare instrumentation on Blue, Mitchell always sounds like herself, which is the hallmark and curse of a true artist. The bare-all intimacy of Blue appeals to fans of Mitchell’s realistic imagery, lilting bird voice, and cringeworthy oversharing of personal information. I’m not here for that.
Given the choice between listening to Joni Mitchell and not listening to music at all, I choose the latter.
Nirvana – In Utero (1993)
Man, I was rooting for Nirvana. Not personally invested in their future, but worried about the prospects. How are they gonna top ‘Teen Spirit’?
I’m not disappointed by In Utero because it isn’t Nevermind II, but the record only has two great cuts (“All Apologies” and “Heart-Shaped Box”, not coincidentally remixed by Scott Litt), and a few highlights like “Dumb” and “Pennyroyal Tea”. I don’t hear many hooks. The songs aren’t there.
Geffen Records called the first mix “unlistenable.” Regardless of how Nirvana and Steve Albini wanted it to sound, Kurt Cobain didn’t like it, and that’s proof enough for me.
“The first time I played it at home, I knew there was something wrong. The whole first week I wasn’t really interested in listening to it at all, and that usually doesn’t happen. I got no emotion from it, I was just numb.”
– Kurt Cobain on In Utero, quoted in Come as You Are: The Story of Nirvana (1993) by Michael Azerrad.
Bob Dylan – Blood on the Tracks (1975)
On the off chance my Dylanophile friend is reading this post, just let me say I’m not talking shit about your guy. Dylan is awesome and I like him plenty. His albums from Another Side of Bob Dylan (1965) to Nashville Skyline (1969) are untouchable.
All I’m saying is Blood on the Tracks is touchable. It’s better than the previous albums since 1970, and that’s why people misapprehend what’s on the album versus what they want to hear. The music isn’t bad, it’s just there, kinda country-ish folky pablum, nothing fancy to get in the way of the lyrics.
At 5 minutes and 43 seconds, “Tangled Up in Blue” could come in around 3 minutes and be just as effective. I’m not sitting through all 8 minutes of “Idiot Wind” and 9 minutes of “Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts”, which might as well be the same song. Would it hurt this guy to write a bridge or two? Man, it’s the same stale routine on every cut. True Dylan fans wait on his every word while I’m waiting for him to shut up already.
“Simple Twist of Fate” and “Buckets of Rain” aren’t too bad. I know what it’s like to work without an editor. I’d be a bigger fan if Dylan had somebody in his ear saying, “Wrap it up, Bob”.
The Smashing Pumpkins – Mellon Collie & the Infinite Sadness (1995)
Siamese Dream (1993) had a couple of good cuts, so I wouldn’t say it’s overrated, but this constipated double album has maybe three tracks? “Bullet with Butterfly Wings”, maybe? I remember first hearing it on the radio, driving south on I-55 at night, and saying out loud, “It’s the singer. His voice. I don’t like it.”
“Tonight, Tonight” is overblown orchestral rock that needed a million-dollar MTV video; otherwise, it’s unlistenable.
“1979” is formulaic alternative rock. Again, without the video, it’s a stupid song. I couldn’t name another track from the album. It all sounds the same with a distinctive whine. A lot of people like the drummer, but he’s making popcorn back there on the kit. Chill out, man, lay off the snare drum rolls and crash cymbals. He’s one of the most overrated drummers of all time.
I mean, good for them and their success. I just think people eat shit like Mellon Collie because a million flies can’t be wrong.
Deep Purple – Machine Head (1972)
I never liked Deep Purple, but I acknowledge their place and influence in rock music, specifically in the genres of cock rock, hard rock, and heavy metal. Deep Purple in Rock (1970) and Made in Japan (1972) are great records. I’ll give them credit for “Highway Star”, but “Smoke on the Water” is the most overrated rock song of all time and puts Richie Blackmore’s mediocrity on full display. “Space Truckin'” is lame. I hate the organ player. Why does he have to play so much?
Lenoard Cohen – The Songs of Leonard Cohen (1967)
You know, a couple of songs? Fine. But an entire album of monotone poetry over folk guitar is too much.
Arcade Fire – Funeral (2005)
The difference between the similar vocal stylings of Robert Smith and the guy who sings for Arcade Fire is: Robert Smith sounds like he’s an hour into an acid trip and the Arcade Fire guy sounds upset that he missed lunch at boarding school.
Very few albums make it to the top of “Best Of” lists with only one solid track, but Funeral is consistently praised by critics as some kind of indie next-generation Peter Gabriel, with “Rebellion (Lies)” being the one passable cut. It’s bullshit. I’m calling bullshit on Arcade Fire.
R.E.M. – Out of Time (1990)
Selling out in rock music means changing your style of music to match what’s popular and/or anticipate the next trend. Green Day didn’t sell out because they’ve always played a singular style of pop punk, like the AC/DC of their generation.
R.E.M.’s Out of Time is a shining example of how popular doesn’t mean good, and a shocking betrayal of a loyal fanbase. I didn’t expect them to release Reckoning II or anything, but there’s no excuse for “Shiny Happy People”, the new “We Built This City (on Rock and Roll)”.
How do you go from creating some of the best alternative rock albums of all time to this? R.E.M. sold out, man. Sold the fuck out.
Remove “Shiny Happy People” from Out of Time and you still get dollar signs glazing a certain melancholy from one of your favorite bands selling out. We all saw it coming on Green (1988), but what can you do? I stopped buying and listening to R.E.M. records.
The Art of Capitalism
Growth and change are huge parts of the artistic experience, but R.E.M.’s transition from indie guitar rock to adult alternative pop was insulting. From the post-punk meets folk of Chronic Town (1980) to string sections, references to Brian Wilson, and cameos from KRS-One? KRS-ONE? Michael Stipe trying to break the record for saying “Hey hey hey” in a funk rock song?
I lost my religion the first time I heard “Losing My Religion” on the radio. No! No! NO! NO! NO!!!!
I’m bamboozled. It feels like they’re taunting me on “Low”, like, how much less can he like this song?
“Near Wild Heaven” sounds like the demo for “Shiny Happy People” The next track is a maudlin instrumental. Fuck off.
“Belong” is boring. “Half a World Away” obliterates the vibrancy of the band’s earlier work.
“Texarkana” moves around a bit with nice vocals from Mike Mills, but still, not great.
“Country Feedback” is the only great R.E.M. song on the album, but it’s kind of a Neil Young > “Hairshirt” rewrite AND a bitter pill. Now that I know what Michael Stipe is talking about, I genuinely don’t like it.
“Me in Honey” is a duet with Kate Pierson (B-52s) and belongs on a B-sides collection.
Pearl Jam – Ten (1991)
Few albums bring out my true hater like Pearl Jam’s Ten. It hard to name another artist since Jimi Hendrix whose debut album was released on a major label and helped reshape modern rock music. Not to besmirch Pearl Jam’s influence and lasting power, but Ten is ready-made arena rock with hints of alternative rock. Born to Run (1975) for Generation X.
Again, let’s count the good cuts. “Even Flow”, “Jeremy”, and “Alive”. That’s it. On the downside, “Black” is an overblown power ballad with one good lyric (“I hope someday you have a beautiful life / I hope you’ll be a star / In somebody else’s sky / Why can’t it be mine?”). “Once” and “Porch” are just flouncy arena rock. Nickelback doesn’t exist without this album.
I have a limit on Eddie Vedder’s voice. He’s alright, man, I’m not dissing him. I just can’t listen to anything on Ten for more than a minute. Pearl Jam’s next album (Vs. (1993)) was significantly more enjoyable-ish. I dunno. “Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town” isn’t a bad cut.
George Harrison – All Things Must Pass (1970)
A triple album with maybe four good-to-great songs, All Things Must Pass set a new milestone for Most Filler on a Rock Album.
The Byrds – Sweetheart of The Rodeo (1968)
The Byrds remind me of R.E.M. in terms of how far from their original sound they eventually wandered. Sweetheart of the Rodeo is generally considered the first country rock album, and features contributions from Gram Parsons, one of the most overrated artists in rock music. “Hickory Wind” is faux country at its worst. Nobody can tell me cosplay cowboy Gram Parsons was a good songwriter when there’s ample proof to the contrary.
Aerosmith – Rocks (1976)
Toys in the Attic (1975) is a much better album, with at least four great songs. Rocks has maybe three good tracks: “Back in the Saddle”, “Last Child”, and “Nobody’s Fault.” Rocks is another overrated ’70s rock album where you can really hear the cocaine.
Dire Straits – Brothers In Arms (1985)
Mark Knopfler might be a great guitarist, but I strongly resent him for every track on this album, starting with “Money for Nothing” and peaking around “So Far Away”.
Patti Smith – Horses (1975)
Horses isn’t something I would listen to every day, every month, or every other year. It’s an album that deserves its place in history, but we don’t really need to hear it more than once a decade, at most. People talk about Patti Smith’s importance to the early punk rock scene in New York, but that’s the problem. She was important to the scene, not the listening public. As a listening experience, the blend of poetry and unsophisticated musicianship on Horses gets boring, fast.
Van Morrison – Astral Weeks (1969)
Van Morrison went through some acrimonious contract disputes in the late 1960s. The owner of Bang Records died suddenly, and his widow took over Morrison’s contract. The “Brown-Eyed Girl” crooner struggled to find work until Warner Bros bailed him out and released his second solo album. Critics love Astral Weeks, but it sounds to me like boozy, pseudo-poetry over some hastily recorded backing tracks and spackled with strings. Oh, wait. That’s pretty accurate. The word “mystical” gets used to describe Astral Weeks, but I think they’ve misspelled “long-winded.”
R.E.M. – Automatic for the People (1992)
Number 96 on Rolling Stone’s 500 greatest albums of all time, and I’m calling extra-special bullshit. Nothing about Automatic for the People is even vaguely reminiscent of the band who made Murmur (1983) or Life’s Rich Pageant (1985). If I sound bitter, it’s because R.E.M. used to be one of my favorite bands. And I wish I could time-travel back to my 16-year-old self and say, “Listen, don’t invest too much in this band because five years from now they’re going to fart in your mouth.”
Critics hailed Automatic as the softer, gentler, and wiser version of R.E.M., but never acknowledged the sell-out. The band proved they could ship units without touring for Out of Time, so they doubled-down on the formula. “Drive”, “The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite” and “Everybody Hurts” are just as bad if not worse than “Shiny Happy People”.
- I mean, legitimate dive bars like Pittsburgh’s Pub in San Francisco (before new ownership rebranded to Pitt’s Pub), Frank n’ Hank in Los Angeles, Delilah’s in Chicago, or Kay’s Place in Mesa, Arizona. ↩︎
- Melisma is a vocal technique where a single syllable of text is sung while rapidly changing pitches across a series of multiple notes. Also known as a “vocal run” or “riff”, it is frequently used to add dramatic flair, showcase a singer’s agility, or add emotion to a song. ↩︎
