1001 Albums: #38 - Sam Cooke - Live at the Harlem Square Club

Sam Cooke - Live at the Harlem Square Club
RCA, 1963



Man alive. I was always a Sam Cooke fan, but hearing him here at his rawest, putting it all out there on stage, well that's something special. The overall vibe of this thing is just awesome. It puts you right in the heart of Miami's Harlem Square Club. The recording isn't crisp, but Cooke's charisma cuts through the quality like a razor. The version of "Bring it on Home to Me" with an extended lead in and its shaggy delivery absolutely blew my mind. That's one of my favorite songs of all time, and hearing him sell it here is absolute magic. There's a reason the best of I have on vinyl is on the untouchable list when I cull. It feels like a cheat that this album--which was released 22 years after the fact in 1985--is slotted in at 1963, but it captures the period so well it's hard to argue. That Cooke was killed a year later at the age of 33 makes this album, which is brimming with life, so absolutely vital.

1001 Albums: #37 - Phil Spector - A Christmas Gift for You

Phil Spector - A Christmas Gift for You 
Philles, 1963

Welcome to our first installment of "Albums You Should Remove From This List and Put a Guided by Voices Album in its Place." Did you know there is only ONE GBV record in this so-called 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die? Only Alien Lanes made the cut, and while I'm sure you could argue that Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes achieve a similar "Peak GBV-Ness," you gotta be joking me when you've got Phil Spector's Christmas Album and Limp Bizkit's Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water on your list. Is this one of the greatest Christmas albums of all time despite the taint of Phil Spector being a psychopathic murderer? Yes, absolutely. Should you have a Christmas album on this list though? Hell no. This album has about a month and a half of utility, otherwise you should be listening to the Crystals and the Ronettes discography proper.

Seriously, CHOCOLATE STARFISH AND THE HOT DOG FLAVORED WATER made the cut. I totally get trying to capture the zeitgeist of a given year, but CHOCOLATE STARFISH AND THE HOT DOG FLAVORED WATER?! At least go for Significant Other. The thing is, you don't need to hear that album before you die. You can go your whole life without ever hearing Limp Bizkit and be totally fine. No audiophiles will give you any crap for not being a Chocolate Starfish head. The indignity. Jesus. Anyway, this is a great Christmas record. Phil Spector was a lifelong sociopath, and it is tragic that he was always on a collision course with murder, but you can't really deny his work as a producer. This is Christmas Magic by way of foreboding terror knowing what you know in hindsight, and it is only amplified by the Spector narrated "Silent Night." But I mean, it's got Darlene Love's "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" so what're you gonna do?

1001 Albums: #36 - Bob Dylan - The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan - The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan
Columbia, 1963



I'm going through my Beatles phase now, but I went through my Dylan phase maybe ten years ago. I picked up this Rough Guide to Bob Dylan from the clearance section of Half Price Books and proceeded to spend the next six months working through his discography and acquiring his albums on vinyl as they came across the buy counter. My copy of Freewheelin' however is a super nice 180 Gram reissue and I vividly remember ordering it after listening to it all the way through for the first time during my Bob Dylan Year. "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" was the first ringtone I bought when buying ringtones was a thing, and it remained my ringtone for at least two full years even though that song makes for a terrible ringtone. It's hard to think of a more perfect kiss-off song. In these latter days I've been listening to the back half of the album more. It's more of its time than the A-Side, but "Talking World War III Blues" is one that feels as potent now as it ever did. 

1001 Albums: #35 - The Beatles - With the Beatles

The Beatles - With the Beatles
Parlophone, 1963

I'm currently going through my Beatles phase. The Beatles have been ever-present in my life forever, like anyone else who grew up listening to Oldies, but until this year the only albums of theirs I had listened to all the way through were Rubber Soul and Sgt. Pepper. It was purely a greatest hits kind of fandom. It has been a lot of fun working through their discography, mostly because it's incredible how much they evolved over the course of a single decade. The group's second album is half covers, and the only Beatles classic in the tracklist is "All My Loving." You could make an argument for "Don't Bother Me" if George is your favorite Beatle, so I'll make the argument for "Don't Bother Me" (that Scorsese doc about him is currently on HBO Max and it's excellent). Also, the Lennon/Harrison duet of Smokey Robinson's "You Really Got a Hold on Me" is fantastic. Also, when I was a kid my siblings and I were at the bowling alley with my dad eating corn dogs and my dad instructed me to play "Roll Over Beethoven" on the jukebox in at our little diner booth and my finger slipped and I accidentally played "Heart of Glass" by Blondie and that is my earliest memory of shame. 

1001 Albums: #34 - Ray Price - Night Life

Ray Price - Night Life
Koch, 1962

I don't know if you're going to find a weirder Track 1 that "Introduction and Theme" in which Ray Price gives a rambling introduction to the album over the title track. But once the album gets going in earnest, man, that title track is a perfect capsule of country and western misery. I'm almost surprised David Lynch hasn't used it to soundtrack some sort of weird depravity. And look, it was written by Willie Nelson. That explains a lot. The book explains that Price and Nelson had a falling out when, "Nelson shot one of Price's roosters." Makes sense. 

1001 Albums: #33 - Stan Getz & Charlie Byrd - Jazz Samba

Stan Getz & Charlie Byrd - Jazz Samba
Verve, 1962

It's hard to think of a genre more dated than bossa nova, but you can't deny the technical proficiency at play here. It's the platonic ideal of white man's appropriation. I personally don't care for this but it wouldn't be out of place at, say, a throwback cocktail party where everyone dresses like characters from Mad Men. In that circumstance it's required listening. 

1001 Albums: #32 - Booker T & the M.G.s - Green Onions

Booker T & the M.G.s - Green Onions
Stax, 1962

It says a lot about the magic of music that one of the most ubiquitous songs of the 20th century--"Green Onions"--was essentially a jam recorded while the band was waiting for the session to start. Pull up Booker T. Jones' IMDB page and do a search for "Green Onions" and watch the whole page fill up with yellow highlights. I vividly remember it from The Sandlot, but you probably know it from something else. Either way that Hammond Organ line is one of the most instantly recognizable pieces of music on earth, even if no one knows who's playing it. The rest of the songs are alright, but feel more like something to be played between innings at a baseball game than anything else (Save for "Behave Yourself," "Lonely Avenue," and the ones with the pep removed from their step). "Green Onions" though, "Green Onions" is still magic. 

1001 Albums: #31 - Ray Charles - Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music

Ray Charles - Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music
ABC-Paramount, 1962


Ray Charles doing country classics. It's as weird as it sounds, and while it's a bit overproduced (and overstuffed) for my taste, but if you had to record definitive versions of Hank Williams classics, well, you could do a hell of a lot worse than Ray Charles. This one is at its best when the weepy strings are out of sight.

1001 Albums: #30 - Bill Evans - Sunday at the Village Vanguard

Bill Evans - Sunday at the Village Vanguard
Riverside, 1961

Evans' playing on Miles Davis' Kind of Blue gave him some immediate cred in my mind, so I came into this one with fewer White Boy Jazz suspiciousness than I did with someone like, say, Dave Brubeck (note: Jazz is none of my business). Hell of a piano player. It's another one of those great midcentury live albums that I was just talking about (see: Muddy Waters at Newport). You can practically feel the smoke-filled room and see the audience sipping cocktails. A smoke-filled room is both a nuisance and something I weirdly miss. The ambience it lends cannot be matched by a mere smoke machine either: You need to know you're going to have to wash your clothes twice before you can wear them again. I remember seeing Feist opening for the Kings of Convenience at the Bottleneck in early 2005 pre-Apple commercial and pre-indoor smoking ordinance in Lawrence and that set is one of my favorites I ever saw in the hundreds of concerts I went to in my college and post-college years. Sunday at the Village Vanguard is music built for smoke-filled rooms and a glass of scotch. I hate the bass solos but what're you gonna do (Note: Jazz is none of my business, take that with a grain of salt). Evans' piano playing is marvelous.

1001 Albums: #29 - Muddy Waters - Muddy Waters at Newport

Muddy Waters - Muddy Waters at Newport
Chess, 1960

One of this book's big shortcomings is that by starting at the end of the 1950s it pretty much skirts blues music. As a result there are a few blues records and they tend to be these career retrospective types like Muddy Waters at Newport. Considering how influential blues was to the formation of American Rock and Roll music, it seems odd that you have a late career John Lee Hooker (save his 1989 album The Healer), a BB King live album, no Howlin' Wolf, no Robert Johnson, no Lead Belly. I get starting this book at a definitive point--the point where the idea of The Album really starts taking hold--but I feel like this thing at least needs a prologue, especially considering how many times Eric Clapton shows up in it. 

Alas, at least this Muddy Waters record was included. These live albums from the 50s and 60s have been some of my favorites to listen to over the course of this project. This one is particularly good because these songs benefit from being roughed up. You get a lot more life out of them than if they'd been pristinely recorded in a studio. 

1001 Albums: #28 - Jimmy Smith - Back at the Chicken Shack

Jimmy Smith - Back at the Chicken Shack
Blue Note, 1960

While I absolutely love this album's groundbreaking use of the Hammond organ, the album's cover has instantly slotted in to my all time Top Whatever. I love how straight forward it is! I love that bright red shirt. I love the literal chicken shack. I love that good boi sitting there for pets. Smith sets himself apart from a crowded field of jazzmen (remember, Jazz is none of my business) and creates a sound with a surprising amount of swagger. Dude made the organ cool. That's a feat on its own, but this was one of the most pleasant surprises I've come across in the book so far. An album I've put on a couple times already when I needed something to cook dinner to.

1001 Albums: #27 - The Everly Brothers - A Date with the Everly Brothers

The Everly Brothers - A Date with the Everly Brothers
Warner Bros, 1960

When I first listened to this album, I thought, man, this would never fly today. But then I remembered there's a Kidz Bop version of Pitbull's "Timber" which boasts the line "Let's make a night you won't remember/ I'll be the one you won't forget." It's amazing how many date rapey lines are littered throughout the Kidz Bop canon. And so, the Everly Brothers version of Pure Patriarchal Romance is kind of quaint. That is, unless you adjust for romantic inflation. Check out the second verse:

One day soon you'll have a date

And you'll take her home that night

You'll wonder as you look at her

Would a kiss be right

The more you look, the more you'll find

Those doubts will fill your head

But think real hard and you might recall

The things your old dad said

Girls, girls, girls were made to love

Girls, girls, girls were made to love

Maybe dear old dad should have taught these brothers a thing or two about consent! I'd say you adjust for inflation, that's as bad or worse than Pitbull. Girls weren't made to have their own fulfilling lives with their own dreams and goals, they were MADE TO LOVE, DAMNIT! Another problem with this song is that it's damn catchy. This album also has the first recorded version of "Love Hurts," which I love not because of the hair metal cover by Nazareth, but Bob Pollard and Kim Deal's rendition. It also has "Cathy's Clown," which is one of my all time favorite oldies. Sonically you can hear the influence they're going to have on countless pop-rock bands going forward into the 60s, but lyrically you can...also hear the influence they are going to have on countless pop-rock bands going forward (particularly the early Beatles which I sense are coming soon).

1001 Albums: #26 - Miriam Makeba - Miriam Makeba

Miriam Makeba - Miriam Makeba
RCA Victor, 1960

The second Miriam Makeba started singing, I realized precisely where tUnE-YaRdS copped her sound from. Makeba's vocals go right for your soul without hesitation. Goddamn can this woman sing. Now imagine hearing that in 1960 with some of the post-war whitewashing starting to erode. Gorgeous stuff.

1001 Albums: #25 - Elvis Presley - Elvis is Back!

Elvis Presley - Elvis is Back!
RCA, 1960

I love the mental image of Elvis getting back from the Army and immediately being shoved into a recording studio. Elvis isn't my personal favorite, but his influence among soulful white boys of a certain age is hard to ignore. One of my favorite things about this particular album is how thrown together it feels. That's a feature not a bug. It feels natural, not overproduced. Considering how hungry the adoring public was for new Elvis, the bar was pretty low, and it feels like The Pelvis and his crew went above and beyond to deliver an album that is a lot more fun than it needed to be.

1001 Albums: #24 - Joan Baez - Joan Baez

Joan Baez - Joan Baez
Vanguard, 1960

Finally out of the 50s! And what better way to inaugurate the 60s than to capture some of that folksinger spirit with Joan Baez's debut. Her voice is sublime, but you know that already. That said I can make it about four songs before needing to take a break. Maybe that's why I've never listened to a Joan Baez record all the way through. She's excellent here or there, but so much vocal quavering starts to wear on me after a while. Still, there are some great tunes here, particularly "Silver Dagger."

1001 Albums: #23. The Dave Brubeck Quartet - Time Out

 The Dave Brubeck Quartet - Time Out
Columbia, 1959

I can't listen to this album without recalling one of the most cringeworthy experiences I was ever party to. I went to a small cocktail party (ung) with my buddies at the apartment of some people I didn't know. I sat in a corner most of the time and watched these two hipster dudes pick the music, and vividly remember them putting on this album. It's about as far as you can get from Kind of Blue. Everything about this is clean and precise and perfect, and maybe that's why my initial impression is, "It's fine." I get why it's good, the technical proficiency can't be argued, but there's just something missing. But, remember what I said: I'm the last person you want giving you advice about Jazz. 

1001 Albums: #22. Marty Robbins - Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs

Marty Robbins - Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs
CBS, 1959

I liked this one WAY more than I thought I was gonna. Everyone knows "El Paso," but I was expecting something cornier. There's a certain novelty quality to these cowboy songs, but the way Robbins sells them is masterful. What could be hokey is perfectly marries the time it comes from and the time it is trying to capture. The Robbins' penned tunes--"Big Iron," "El Paso," "The Master's Call," "In the Valley"--are unsurprisingly the most interesting/compelling tracks on the record. "Big Iron" in particular. 

1001 Albums: #21. Miles Davis - Kind of Blue

Miles Davis - Kind of Blue 
Columbia, 1959

Jazz isn't really any of my business. It's a genre I appreciate from the sidelines but lack the music brain to provide a legitimate judgement. I'm assuming all of the jazz records on this list are exceptional. Where I've basically spent the last 20 years trying to shout my opinions about music from the rooftops, I'm perfectly happy to take someone else's word for it here. Despite my lack of music knowledge, I know that having Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Cannonball Adderley, and Bill Evans all playing together is music magic. This record just stops you in your tracks. You can tell that if you google Greatest Jazz Records of All Time this is gonna be the first one that pops up. Try it.

1001 Albums: #20. Ray Charles - The Genius of Ray Charles

Ray Charles - The Genius of Ray Charles
Atlantic, 1959

There's something absolutely timeless about Ray Charles' voice. So many of the albums on this list so far are very much of their time. The huge orchestrations on this album are of their time, sure, but if you strip all of that away and leave only Charles' voice, you've got something that is purely universal.