It’s 2013 and I have five albums left to review.  I promised myself that, if 2012 was a year of retro music for me, 2013 would see me return to today’s music.  I’m a little out of touch with what the kids are listening to these days – is Call Me Maybe still a hit?  Please tell me we’ve moved on…

To wrap things up, I’m going to make one final Rewind Button review that compiles all five remaining albums into one.  The Rewind Button has been an incredible project and I would encourage anyone pondering this challenge to stop thinking about it and just do it.

My thanks go out to Rachel Tynan, who came up with the idea of listening to these albums, and Rebecca Stevenson, who shared the idea with a determined group of bloggers.  It’s been fun reading everyone’s reviews and it’s been amazing delving so deeply into music history.

While I’m not going to be writing reviews anymore, I am going to continue this journey through the “greatest” music according to Rolling Stone.  I still plan to listen to one album every week throughout 2013, I just don’t intend to do so multiple times – I have to leave room for Carly’s next hit right?  Hopefully, by 2014 I’ll be able to say that I’ve listened to the 100 greatest albums of all time.

Here are the final five:

Artist/Album:  Carole King Tapestry
Date issued:  1971
Placement:  # 36
Thoughts:  I enjoyed the soulful and bluesy sound of this album.  I love Carole King’s voice and am amazed that she spent so much time working as a songwriter and never sharing her pipes with the world.  It’s a shade shy of perfect, which makes it all the more perfect to my ears.  James Taylor deserves huge thanks for urging her to step into the limelight.

The presence of so many hits, previously sung by other artists yet written or co-written by King herself, lends a familiarity to the album and a sense of intimacy – the artist finally getting the chance to fully express how she wanted the songs sung.  Of course the greatest of these and the album’s closer is (You make me feel) Like a natural woman.

Interestingly, I recently read that Adele’s 21 had reached the milestone of 10 million copies sold.  It’s a feat in today’s music scene to be sure, but it pales in comparison to the 25+ million copies of Tapestry that have been sold.  Assuming that the rate of an album’s sales diminish greatly over time, it makes me wonder if we’ll ever see so many people share the same vision of what great music is again.  But perhaps I’m speaking too soon.  21 recently knocked Tapestry off the top of one list – most weeks at number one by a female artist, so perhaps there is hope after all.

I thoroughly enjoyed this album, every song.  A timeless record.  I’ll return to it without a doubt.  This truly is chicken soup for the soul.

Artist/Album:  The Eagles Hotel California
Date issued:  1976
Placement:  # 37
Thoughts:  After I learned my chords, strumming and some finger picking, Hotel California was one of the first songs I learned on guitar.  It was the first time I really felt like I’d graduated to a new level of playing, though I still struggle to this day to call myself anything more than a beginner.  But there was something about being able to play such a classic and cool tune that made my mind wander, and there’s something about listening to the song that does the same.

The 52 second guitar intro immediately ingratiates itself to me.  The song has become so ubiquitous that the intro calls the lyrics to mind without them being sung.  As a song, it’s probably one of the most overplayed, but if you can go a long while without hearing it, it will comfort you.

The guitar solo at the end sings to me.  It feels hopeful and hopeless at the same time, as it meanders between Don Felder and Joe Walsh.  It matches the lyrics perfectly, providing tension and space.  This song led the band to continue its thematic exploration of L.A.’s excesses with other songs like Life in the fast lane and Wasted time.

New kid in town, while a hit and an award winner, does little for me as a song; whereas, Life in the fast lane is a rocking foot-stomper that I can get behind.  Victim of love speaks to me when it plays hard, but loses me when the chorus kicks in.  Still, the guitar saves it, pulling away in another worthy solo.

Much like Ziggy Stardust, Hotel California is a concept album, though admittedly a much more subtle one.  Many listeners don’t even notice the overriding theme of America’s excesses.  That The Eagles were able to shroud a concept album behind the strength of its individual hits speaks to the quality of this album.

While it’s a concept album, this album falls into a category I’d describe as excellent musically but not necessarily ground breaking.  For this reason, it’s placement at number 37 is justified, though I enjoy it far more than many of the albums that precede it on Rolling Stone’s list.

Artist/Album:  Muddy Waters The Anthology
Date issued:  2001
Placement:  # 38
Thoughts:  Boy oh boy did I look forward to this album.  Ever since listening to Robert Johnson’s album (an album I still listen to from time to time), I’ve been waiting patiently to let my ears feast on this blues legend.  And feast they did, on two albums worth of content spanning 50 of Waters’ best tracks.

We all know the influence of this artist.  We know that the Rolling Stones took their name from one of his songs and Bob Dylan famously sang a song with that very term in the title.  But how often do you take the time to thoroughly immerse yourself in his music?

I’m not the biggest fan of compilation albums.  I generally prefer to listen to albums as the artist intended them to be heard, and listen to the songs amid their kin.  But with Muddy Waters it really doesn’t matter, because the moment the album begins I’m instantly transported to a gritty Memphis bar.  God I miss Memphis.  And yes, I know that Muddy Waters started out in Mississippi and made his name in Chicago, but I’ve only heard the blues of Memphis first hand, so that’s where I go when I hear this music.

What’s most surprising to me right off the bat is the piano that takes center stage on the first song Gypsy Woman.  Somehow I thought I’d get punched in the face with guitar, but The Anthology leaves me begging for more…at least initially.  By the second song, I can’t be satisfied, I’m, well, satisfied.  And from then on, it’s one long ode to electric blues guitar’s beginnings.

All of the songs are short and snappy, with only one breaking the three and half minute mark.  While I hear some repetition in the music, much as I did with Robert Johnson, I still enjoying hearing this legend perform.  I can only wonder what it must be like in real life, in a dim bar, with a cold beer sweating in a hot night and nothing on stage but a stool and a guitar stand.  The Anthology is definitely an album most worthy of its spot on this Greatest Albums list.

Artist/Album:  The Beatles Please Please me
Date issued:  1963
Placement:  # 39
Thoughts:  It seems fitting that The Beatles would help round out the final two albums on this project, considering they also helped start it.  My opinion of this band changed considerably thanks to this project.  By forcing myself to truly listen to so many of their albums, compare them and learn about their historical influence, my appreciation grew tremendously.

Please Please Me is The Beatles debut album and, considering the incredible influence The Beatles had on music, it is worthy of note for this reason alone.  Add to that the fact that they recorded the majority of the songs in just under 10 hours, it’s downright impressive.

Please Please Me is a virtually live album, performed over three sets during that 10 hour stint.  George Martin originally wanted to record at The Cavern where The Beatles played, but settled on EMI studios on Abbey Road instead.

The album cost just 400 pounds to record and ended with Lennon shredding his vocal chords on the song Twist and Shout.  Martin purposely saved this song for last fearing that Lennon, who was suffering from a cold, might not be able to hold up.

Thankfully, his vocal chords recovered, and The Beatles went on to make history.  This album definitely belongs on the list and, frankly, I’m a little surprised it doesn’t come in a little higher.

Artist/Album:  Love Forever Changes
Date issued:  1967
Placement:  # 40
Thoughts:  I’d never listened to this album before doing so for this project, and I knew very little about it.  Yet, the sound is so quintessentially Summer of Love that I easily pegged its recording year as 1967.

What stands out most is the texture of the album, and by that I don’t mean its physical presentation, I mean the complexity of so many instruments gelling in such perfect unison.  At first you don’t even notice it, but once your mind drifts from the lyrics to the music it’s impossible to ignore.  I listened to this album while wearing headphones and noticed that the interplay of instruments is often broken up between the left and right ears.  The effect is to pull you back and forth until you can do nothing more than accept it all at once somewhere in the middle of your mind.

Whether it’s the electric guitar’s mad journey at the end of A house is not a motel, with its surprising fade into a frantic mess at the end, or the flamenco-inspired guitar slipped throughout the album, this is a thoroughly enjoyable and varied album, and one I wish I had heard sooner.

As Porkie Pig said so fittingly, Th-th-th-th-that’s all folks!  What an awesome journey through the greatest albums according to Rolling Stone, and ending with an epic, five-album review just couldn’t have been better.

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To read what other Rewind Button bloggers thought about this album, click on the links below.  I’ll update them as they post their reviews.

Betty Livin – Carole King

Betty Livin – The Eagles

Betty Livin – Muddy Waters

Betty Livin – Please Please Me

There are many pitfalls to the concept album.  The first and greatest is the possibility that people just won’t get it.  Then comes the fear that they get it, but don’t identify with it.  There’s also the possibility that the concept isn’t worthy of an entire album, maybe a couple of songs but not much more.

At its core, the concept album is about narrative over time, and over space in the case of The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.  If the length of the title didn’t scream it to you, the concept album always does things big, reaching for new plateaus in the exploration of themes.

But Ziggy is more than a concept album – it’s a prophecy.  Ziggy is an alien with a human’s likeness who is trying to spread a message of hope to humans during the final years for earth.  Released in 1972, some 40 years ago, the album is prescient in its theme centered on the end of the world due to a lack of natural resources.  Ziggy is trying to deliver his message using rock ‘n roll, but the kids no longer want rock ‘n roll.  Does any of this sound familiar in 2013?

To deliver his album, Bowie created a sound that seemed fit for outer space, with at times simple drum beats, distant, echoed voices and sparse piano.  The first song sets the stage.  In a way it reminds me of Hemingway’s writing.  He writes in true simple declarative sentences.  By juxtaposing a far out theme with concrete language, Bowie manages to create an album that flirts with silliness while remaining firmly planted on terra firma.

Prophecies are far riskier than concepts to pull off, yet Bowie pulled off both with this album.  I started listening to it long before Christmas, took a break over the holidays, and it was the first album I played in 2013.  I’m glad I gave it time to marinate, because my appreciation grew tremendously.

While I’m not a rabid fan of this album, Ziggy is complex yet enjoyable enough for me to understand why Rolling Stone Magazine would dub this the 35^th greatest album of all time.   Each song warrants multiple listens.  But it really has to be taken as a whole to truly appreciate its value.

I’ll return to this album again I’m sure, when the Rewind Button is finally over and I can revisit the albums that stood out – Ziggy certainly does that.

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I want to like Music From Big Pink.  Heck, I want to like all of the albums on this list.  So many respected musicians and music aficionados contributed to the rankings that I generally feel like my opinion is hardly important.

Still I struggle with some of the albums.  Perhaps because they were recorded in a different time, I find myself unable to truly appreciate them.  I’ve found that doing research about the bands, and the context of the albums I’m reviewing, helps bridge that gap to the past, but I’m still sometimes left a little cold.  I’m afraid that’s what happened with Music From Big Pink, number 34 on Rolling Stone’s list of greatest albums.

Sure I hear The Band’s influence in a lot of other bands, but I still can’t fully appreciate the music produced in the “pink house” in Woodstock from which the album draws its name.  Produced in 1968, it features musicians who’d just spent ’65 and ‘66 touring with Bob Dylan.  Three of the songs also feature lyrics written by Dylan.

The sound is familiar and enjoyable for the most part, but it just doesn’t sing to me.  At times I find it whiny.  At times repetitive.  Such is the case in the album’s biggest hit, The Weight.  At first it’s familiar, then the chorus becomes an unwanted distraction and I’m recalling the sage advice that the secret is knowing when to stop.  The Weight is a great song, it just could have used a musical interlude in the place of a chorus or two.

Much like the Ramones, I don’t have the desire to write much about The Band.  Unlike the Ramones, I don’t hear much that’s groundbreaking in this album.  And while I definitely won’t be buying this album, I also likely won’t listen to it again.  The Band is exactly where they should be – that is, until I listen to the next album, as I’ll likely enjoy it more.

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Betty Livin

In July, I was on a booze cruise in English Bay, sipping a Corona on the starboard bow and watching the million dollar mansions of West Van bounce up and down with every wave.

A light buzz helped give me my sea legs, and some good company kept my mind from the bobbing horizon – who knew English Bay could be so choppy?  Among those who’d settled on the bow was a guy with a long reddish brown beard.  He reminded me of some of the friends I left behind in high school, a grown man embracing a perpetual state of teenage ignorance.

We talked about boats, of which I know nothing (I had to look up “starboard bow” for this post), we talked about kids (I know even less about them), and eventually the conversation turned to music – the great unifier (at least sometimes).

We were both in agreement that one of the best bands we’d ever seen in concert was Pearl Jam.  We went one step further and suggested that Pearl Jam was one of the best bands of the last few decades.  Then my seafaring friend said something that struck me as rather odd.  “But, by far, the best band ever is the Ramones,” he proclaimed.

Suddenly my legs felt weak and it had nothing to do with the sea.  The Ramones?  The best band ever?  He couldn’t possibly be serious.

I’ve always viewed the Ramones with a distant fascination.  I know their music, hummed along to their poppy punk sound, but I’ve never thought of them as a band worthy of the “greatest” moniker.

Little did I know on that booze cruise that Rolling Stone magazine seems to agree that the Ramones are a great band, placing the band’s album Ramones at number 33 on its list of greatest albums.

Now, many months later, the summer sun has given way to cold rain and it’s a dreary Monday morning.  I’ve slid behind my desk at work, a cubicle cluttered with the reality of my adult life, slipped some earbuds in my ears and found the Ramones’ eponymous album on YouTube.  I’m immediately assaulted by Blitzkrieg Pop, as I indulge in a first listen of the entire album for this review.

Originators of the punk sound, the Ramones formed in 1974 in New York.  At just over 28 minutes, this album flies by.  Short snappy songs.  Upbeat tempo.  Yet there is such similarity between the instrumentation of each song that I struggle to write much about the album.  Yet the album as a whole has a distinct sound, one that was new at the time and still sounds original for them, though there have been many imitators.  It’s obvious in listening to the album that this band has influenced myriad artists that have followed.

I find it interesting to learn that only one of the Ramones’ albums was certified gold, and it was a compilation album.  Clearly, they are on this list not due to popularity, but due to influence.

Still, we all know their songs and we all know the sound that they created, which makes their music pervasive, if not commercially viable in the same vein as the other bands on this greatest albums list.

In a way, this ads credibility to the “Greatest Albums” list that Rolling Stone has compiled.  The albums that made this list did so due to their artistic impact as much, if not more, than their economic impact.  Commercial viability hasn’t been a necessity for albums on Rolling Stone’s list.  Robert Johnson certainly wasn’t commercially viable for years.  Still he influenced many, and so too did the Ramones.

Unfortunately, I find myself in the camp of people who appreciate the influence of the Ramones more than the band itself.  There have been many albums on this list that I didn’t previously own that I’ve added to my collection.  Ramones will not be among them.  That said, if someone had played some Ramones on the booze cruise this past summer, I surely would have bobbed my head not to the motion of the ocean but to the beat of their music, and today I’d do so even more, having taken the time to listen to them with purpose.

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Betty Livin

Pimplomat

There’s some irony to the fact that the opening track on Let it Bleed, Gimme Shelter, is comforting to me.  As a guitar lover, the first 50 seconds of Gimme Shelter is one of the best album openings of all time, with Keith Richards’ fingers walking the fretboard and creating tension and melancholy, note by slippery smooth note.

Yet at the time of recording, the song was a warning that times were changing and free love was yielding to more ominous expectations.  It marked a psychological shift that coincided with the end of the 60s and was especially prescient in its commentary.

Another song that provides a strangely soothing presence for me is the closing track You can’t always get what you want.  Though this song has followed me my whole life, as I suspect it has yours, it is its placement in the HBO series Californication that has given it new life to me.  It is the best song on the series’ many soundtracks, and most captures the ethos of Hank Moody.

The second song on the album, a Spanish-inspired Love in vain, reminds me that in his autobiography, Life, Richards described at length his love for the song La Malaguena.  He once secured a hotel room in Mexico based solely on his ability to play that song.  Life, by the way, is a must-read, if you can get past the pettiness Richards displays towards Mick.

Let it Bleed is about as unforced an album as I’ve ever heard.  Minimalist production, low-fi to the extreme, it slides into a seemingly impromptu sing-along for its third song Country Honk. Ever enamoured with the music they heard across the ocean, the fiddle in this song is a prevalent reminder that the Blues was not the only sound that captivated the Stones.

But as easy as this album is, there is a flow to it that leaves your ears wanting more at the end of each song.  This was the Stones’ eighth album.  Released in 1969, it was a time when the Stones and the Beatles were still the biggest bands in the world, with Let it Bleed knocking the Beatles’ Abbey Road off the top of the charts temporarily.

The album’s title-track makes me want to throw my arms around the people to my left and right and sway back and forth.  I’ve never been one for joining the crowd, but it’s so unforced, with splashes of electric guitar overtop a steady acoustic rhythm and a piano drifting in the background, it can’t help but envelope you in its mood.

Throughout the Rewind Button, I’ve found my appreciation for many of the artists on the list has grown immensely, though none so much as the Stones.  This is saying something, considering Let it Bleed only lands at number 32 on the list.  I’ve anxiously awaited another opportunity to delve into their music and they didn’t disappoint. That said, I didn’t find that this album warranted higher placement per se.  It seems as though the list might be falling into a rhythm of its own as we explore the final albums of this project.

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Betty Livin

Sometimes, the better you get to know someone the greater your appreciation grows.  Sometimes the opposite is true.

Bringing it all back home is Dylan’s fourth entry on Rolling Stone’s greatest albums list.  It marks the introduction of electricity to his recorded work which brings energy, both figurative and real, to this album.  The first side of the album is electric, the second acoustic.

But music, as all things in life, is subject to the vagaries of time and the circumstances upon which you listen to it.  In this case, I review Bringing it all back home fresh from having seen Bob Dylan at Rogers Arena in October.  I’m also nearly finished reading his 2004 book Chronicles.

As you know if you read my post on the concert, Dylan was disappointing at Rogers Arena.  It was enjoyable to see a legend perform, but the performance left much to be desired.  Sadly, it turned me off of his music a little, so I had to warm up to this album.

Luckily, Dylan’s albums provide a window into how the songs were intended to sound, and this album, at number 31 on Rolling Stone’s Greatest Albums list, is surely worthy of another listen.

Released in 1965, this was Dylan’s fifth studio album.  It begins abruptly, a crash of instruments all at once.  No sooner do your ears get used to the sound than the nasal drone of Dylan’s voice takes over.  Arguably one of Dylan’s biggest hits, if not his biggest, Subterranean homesick blues is as familiar and relevant today as it ever was.

Despite the presence of this hit and the buzz of electricity, the album as a whole doesn’t warrant higher placement on the list.  Sure Rolling Stone’s love affair with Dylan continues unabated, but I can’t argue putting this album ahead of most of the others we’ve reviewed.

Bringing it all back home is intriguing because Dylan separated the electric and acoustic songs, giving each its own sides.  Yet neither side sounds remarkably different.  It makes me wonder why the crowd at the Newport Folk Festival lost their minds when they saw him strap a Strat on his shoulder, shortly after releasing this album.  Why folk guru Pete Seeger allegedly ran around backstage with an axe threatening to cut the cords to the soundboard.  It also makes me sympathize with Dylan a little – to think that your fans could so overwhelmingly reject something simply because it was powered by electricity – Dylan deserved more.

For this review, I listened to Bringing it more than a dozen times and it’s grown on me immensely.  It’s also gone a long way towards creating a rapprochement between me and his music.  I’ve let the memory of his concert fade; I’d rather focus on his legacy than his current caricature of himself.  I’ll finish his book tonight, but this too is diminishing my impression of the man.  Luckily his music will always be there to wipe away the tarnish of time.

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Betty Livin

Springsteen didn’t disappoint.  He came, he sang, he crowd surfed, he preached, he converted.

Starting off with material from his latest album Wrecking Ball, Shackled and Drawn instantly became an arena classic and captured the crowd with crushing acoustic strumming.  But it wasn’t long till Bruce was dipping deep into the past with his 80′s hit Out in the street from The River album.

Already there was the sensation that we were in for something special but nothing could have prepared us for what came next.  As Springsteen slid into a pitch perfect Hungry Heart, sauntering through the crowd to a second stage, he turned to crowd and asked:

“We got any strong men out here?  We got any strong women?”

And with that he lay back on the crowd and began the most epic crowd surf of all time – did I mention the man’s 63?  You’d swear he has the powers of Moses considering how he willed the sea of people beneath him to transport him in a straight line directly to the main stage while lying atop their outstretched hands.  It was awe-inspiring.

He dipped back into Wrecking Ball for We take care of our own, the album’s namesake, and Death to my hometown.  Artists who can draw from a catalogue of hits run the risk of draining the energy from the crowd by leaning too heavily on their new material, but Bruce somehow made these songs sound familiar and expected.

Still the hits came fast and furious at times, with Bruce tearing through songs like Red-headed woman, Streets of Fire, Because the night and The Rising.  I saw Springsteen the last time he came to town and amazingly he seemed more energetic and more captivated by his music than ever on Monday night.

To say that this was an amazing concert is an absolute understatement.  Springsteen put on a show that would make much younger rock stars beg for mercy.  And while his gait was bordering on Frankenstein-like (remember the Seinfeld episode when Kramer wears the jeans that are too tight?  That was his saunter) he brought enough youthful enthusiasm to make everyone forget that he’s just two years away from becoming a senior citizen.

The concert ended some three hours after it began, but it felt as though half that time had elapsed.  I easily could have listened to more, which is impressive because even as a rabid music fan I’ve found myself clock watching during some concerts.  With all of the lights on, Springsteen ripped through some of his biggest hits including Born to run, Dancing in the dark and Tenth avenue freeze out.  During Dancing in the dark he even brought an 80 year old woman on stage to dance with him.

After last night’s concert, there is no doubt who the Boss is…his name is Bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuce!

Good lord, can you hear the steel wheels of the train screeching?  Can you hear the rails groaning under the immense pressure of this locomotive coming right off the tracks?  What manner of madness would take us through some of rock’s greatest albums, right up the birthplace of heavy metal and then drop us into some strange Alice in Wonderland-esque acid trip?

Joni Mitchell Blue is single-handedly responsible for Bob Ross keeping squirrels in his pocket when he paints.  Sure I like Bob’s show with his happy little trees and soothing voice, but having listened to Blue from beginning to end, I have to assume that Bob wore this album out on his record player.

I’ve heard about this album plenty over the years, but I’ve never really heard it, in it’s entirety that is.  Thank goodness for that – I’m pretty sure it would have ripped every ounce of testosterone out of me.

This is the moment that Rolling Stone’s list has completely lost me.  I was following the general trend of these albums so far, but I just fell through the rabbit hole and landed in some flower power campfire sing-a-long.  Where’s Willie Nelson?

There are moments on this album that I found endurable if not endearing.  But overall I can safely say this is my least favorite album of the list so far.  Maybe I’m not mature enough for it.  Maybe I’m not effeminate enough.

But I don’t think that’s what’s wrong.  This album has single-handedly exposed Rolling Stone’s hypocrisy.  Case in point – their review from 1971 when it was first released.  Here’s what writer Timothy Crouse wrote about the various songs:

“’River’ is an extended mea culpa that reeks of self-pity”

“Joni’s ponderous piano accompaniment verges on a parody of Laura Nyro, especially the melodramatic intro, which is ‘Jingle Bells’ in a minor key. The best of this lot is ‘My Old Man,’ a lovely, conventional ballad.”

“In ‘This Flight Tonight,’ Joni has walked out on her man, is flying West on a jet, and now regrets the decision. The lyrics, a clumsy attempt at stream of consciousness, are virtually unsingable and Joni’s lyric soprano is hopelessly at odds with the rock and roll tune.”

And my personal favorite…

“The pretty, ‘poetic’ lyric is dressed up in such cryptic references that it passeth all understanding.”

Did Crouse really use the word passeth in print?  This is an unequivocally negative review, yet this same publication places Blue at number 30 on its list of greatest albums!  It defies common sense.

Then there’s Rolling Stone’s justification, years later, for placing this album at number 30.

“The Blue album, there’s hardly a dishonest note in the vocals,” Joni Mitchell told Rolling Stone in 1979.  ”At that period of my life, I had no persona defenses.  I felt like a cellophane wrapper on a pack of cigarettes.  I felt like I had absolutely no secrets from the world, and I couldn’t pretend in my life to be strong.  Or to be happy.”  With song after song of regrets and sorrow, this may be the ultimate breakup album.  Its whispery minimalism is also Mitchell’s greatest musical achievement.  Stephen Stills and James Taylor lend an occasional hand, but in “California,” “Carey,” “This Flight Tonight” and the devastating title track, Mitchell sounds utterly alone in her melancholy, turning the sadness into tender, universally powerful art.

Really? The only equivalent to this equivocation is a parent saying don’t do drugs and then smoking a j when the kids are all tucked into bed.  The truth is that this album is wonderfully flawed.  It has merit, but it’s rife with weakness as well, and I’m not referring to Mitchell’s vulnerable lyrics.

Unfortunately, this is Canada’s first entry on this list, with Mitchell hailing from Saskatchewan by way of Alberta.  She’s also the first female entry on the list, which I hadn’t noticed until this point.  It’s hard to believe that there isn’t a single woman who has produced a better album than this – IN HISTORY!

The New York Times chose Blue as one of 25 albums that represented the “turning points and pinnacles in 20th-century popular music”.  Yet strangely, the Wikipedia page for this album is by far the shortest of any album we’ve reviewed so far.  How can something so revered garner so little interest?

I wanted to like this album, but I can’t.  I’m sure it has a place in Bob Ross’ pocket but I’ll leave it for the squirrels and I’ll leave you with the following lyrics – if someone can explain their redeeming quality, please do so.

Oh you are in my blood like holy wine
Oh and you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you
I could drink a case of you darling
Still I’d be on my feet
Still I’d be on my feet.

Rolling Stone, you have knocked me off my feet – and not in a good way.

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Betty Livin

It was 1994 and my musical mind couldn’t possibly handle any more revelations.  This was back in the days when the internet was nothing more than a bunch of databases and Hotmail was the Victoria Secret catalogue that arrived on our doorstep quarterly.

I had a yellow Sony ghettoblaster, the kind that you could take to the beach and was water and sand-resistant.  It was my only connection to the music world that, for me, lived in Montreal, some 45 minutes away by car.

Nirvana had opened the flood-gates to grunge and my cd library was a who’s who of flannel and Doc Martins bands – Soundgarden, Pearl Jam (I cut class to buy their second album on the day it was released, driving to Cornwall some 30 minutes away), Red Hot Chili Peppers, and on and on.

But a radio station in Montreal kept me honest.  While Chom 97.7fm had introduced me to grunge, it never strayed too far from its classic rock roots.  Chom’s playlist leaned heavily on AC/DC, Metallica, the doors and, yes, an oxymoronic band known as Led Zeppelin – their eponymous album lands at number 29 on Rolling Stone’s Greatest Albums list.

Released in 1969, Led Zeppelin marked the union of Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, John Paul Jones and John Bonham.  Legend has it that the name came from a conversation between Page and The Who’s Keith Moon.  Moon apparently said the band would either take off or fall like a lead zeppelin.

Recorded in just 36 hours over a few weeks, Page financed and recorded the entire album before going to Atlantic Records with a finished product.  He’s said that he wanted artistic control in a “vise-grip”.  This put the success of the album squarely on his shoulders (and his bandmates’) and, initially, the album was widely panned with many critics tearing it to shreds.  Even Rolling Stone magazine ripped the band, claiming they were a distant second to the Jeff Beck Group and needed a producer and some decent material.

There were some critics who praised their original take on the blues, but they were few and far between.  Listening to the album today, You shook me is dripping with drawn out blues riffs to echo Plant’s droning, moaning howl.  When you compare it to Jeff Beck’s take on the same song, it’s clear who the winner is in terms of originality.

Two of the songs, Babe, I’m gonna leave you,  and You shook me were covers of Joan Baez and Muddy Waters respectively, though Zeppelin provides such an original take on the songs that it’s hard to hear the original in them.

Meanwhile, in Dazed and Confused, I hear elements of Jimi Hendrix even though this was originally a song by folk singer Jake Holmes.  It’s possible that leaning so heavily on covers cost this album a higher placement on the Greatest Albums list, even though Page felt he’d changed enough on Holmes’ song to call it his own.  The courts agreed in 2010 when Holmes tried to sue Page for copyright infringement but failed.  Still, rounding out the top 30 is no reason to complain.  It’s clear where Rolling Stone puts the golden age of rock.  ‘69 is right in the thick of things, with music pulling away in so many different directions yet somehow all tied together.

Case in point, the heaviness of Led’s music counterbalanced by its blues soul.  Some credit them as the first heavy metal band.  Certainly, it’s one of the most successful.

If they were the first heavy metal band, I find their placement on this list intriguing.  I would think being the first to forge a new style of music would warrant higher placement.  Perhaps, if they’d included Stairway to Heaven on this album, Rolling Stone would move them up a few spots.

While I appreciate that a lot of the bands on this list so far had a huge impact on music, to lessen the impact Led had on so many bands seems odd.  Every few years I make my way back to my hometown and I never fail to turn the dial to Chom.  I also never fail to marvel at the fact that the station is still playing songs from the same playlist and Led Zeppelin is among them.

Led Zeppelin will forever take me to a time I never knew, but relived in my own time alongside those bands that followed them on the Montreal radio station that crawled into my room at night as I studied (or pretended to study).  Classic rock radio gods – yep, Led Zeppelin are the kings.  Just ask Wayne.

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Betty Livin

Pimplomat