487. earth [gaia]

“You’ve probably noticed there’s not much stuff from the 1990s on this list even though the cut-off date is officially summertime 2000. That’s because I generally didn’t buy new vinyl past about 1989. Is this fair to the 1990s? No. And I’m sorry about that. This list is not fair. This list is not definitive. Yet it would be a complete farce without stuff from 1991’s zeitgeist bender The Orb’s Adventures Beyond The Ultraworld, because I had to have that one on vinyl, all four sides of it, something I could look at BIG and spread out, while it played BIG and spread out, not unlike the entirety of the universe, known and otherwise.” (Philip Random)

(photo: Mick Hutson)

488. Hard Hearted Alice

I’ve said it before, I’ll no doubt say it again. The last Alice Cooper album anybody needs to own is Muscle of Love, because it’s the last one featuring the Group: Mike Bruce, Glen Buxton, Dennis Dunaway, Neal Smith and a guy named Alice (who sang lead, sometimes wore dresses, and was known to smash baby dolls to pieces). Past that, it would just be Alice (and whoever) going increasingly showbiz and irrelevant. But Muscle of Love – that’s an entirely okay collection. Less conceptual than previous offerings, and perhaps a little more civilized, it nevertheless shows an outfit that knows how to craft relevant rock music. With Hard Hearted Alice a comparatively ethereal offering (albeit sinister) about life on the road apparently.

AliceCooper-1973-group

489. snow in San Anselmo

“The first time I ever heard Snow in San Anselmo, it was my first night in a new apartment, all my stuff still in boxes and whatever. Though I did have my cassette player unpacked. And there on the windowsill, like it had been left specifically for me, was a  homemade Van Morrison tape, care of the previous tenant whoever he was. Moondance on one side, Hard Nose the Highway on the other, with the Hard Nose side cued up. So when I put it on, a little too wired to sleep, too tired to do anything else except just listen, the first song that came up was Snow in San Anselmo, like an offering out of all the chaos of my life, the universe, everything. Like it was meant to be. Thanks, whoever. Eternal thanks.” (Philip Random)

VanMorrison-1973-live

490. let me roll it

“Found on Wings’ 1973 album, Band on the Run, Let Me Roll It has been tagged by some as a Paul McCartney attack on John Lennon, part of an ongoing musical feud that stretched back to before the Beatles even split. But to my ears, it sounds more like an homage, raw and to the point (whatever the point is), and maybe the best track from the best thing he ever did post The Beatles.” (Philip Random)

(Jack Kay, Hulton Archive, Getty Images)

491. lost weekend

“As I remember hearing it, Wall of Voodoo started out wanting to make movie soundtrack music, but somewhere along the line, they just started making their own movies, in the form of songs. Case in point: Lost Weekend. It may be only four of so minutes long on record, but it’s feature length where it matters, in my soul and imagination. Smoke a little dope, pour yourself some bourbon and you can see the whole thing play out. Wasted and true.” (Philip Random)

492. heroine

This gem came out just before Joshua Tree, U2’s The Edge doing some soundtrack work, bringing in an unknown named Sinead O’Connor to sing a lead vocal so strong it inspires thoughts of an alternate pop-history, where U2 never goes supernova. Instead, they break up for whatever reason, Bono runs off and joins Van Halen, and the Edge sticks with young Sinead. They end up going to the Vatican, overthrowing the Pope and ruling the world. Satan (who it turns out was David Lee Roth all along) retires and moves to Calgary. A thousand years of peace ensue, except in Alberta.

SineadOconnorEdge