I honestly have two posts waiting in the queue that are far more substantial than a simple list, I just haven’t edited them. I figured a fun little post would be good, in between social critiques. The following list of albums are ones which I can listen to in their entirety, where every song is good, and the albums are a cohesive body of work. They are my favourite albums. Without further ado, and in no particular order, number one:

Dark Side of the Moon — Pink Floyd. The Wall is arguably a better album. It tells a story, it’s captivating and it’s Pink Floyd’s magnum opus. However, it’s long. Really long. It’s an extremely difficult album to listen to in a single sitting; one must listen to the first half, then take a break before plunging into part two. Dark Side is a perfect length. It’s less than fourty-five minutes long and every moment is crammed with perfect instrumentation, beautiful sonic textures and colourful imagery. Every square inch of vinyl glass and plastic is used, and no playing time is wasted. It’s one of the very best.

The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place — Explosions in the Sky. Despite the novella of a title, Earth is a masterpiece. It’s arguably the band’s best album, and despite having merely five songs, it runs for slightly longer than the Pink Floyd album above. True to the band’s style, and indeed their genre, much of the album is spent in suspense, waiting for the perfect sonic climax in each song. Every song is a little gem. Every song is precious, and every song captures a certain subtlety, yet every song is breathtaking.

Sing the Sorrow — AFI. AFI’s signing to a major label was met with an amount of disdain by longtime fans, who were certain they were about to lose the precious punk stylings that made their mark. But with larger production budgets and a different studio, AFI cranked every knob to “11.” Fast became faster, hard became harder, quiet became eerier. The style that the band perfected on their previous two full-length albums reached its peak on Sorrow, before they turned a bit screamo (and now alt-rock). This album, though, is magnificent.

The Downward Spiral — Nine Inch Nails. If ever there were a true Nails concept album, this is it. Over the course of its one-hour runtime, we experience the slow self-destruction of the protagonist, introduced with the perfectly sadistic Piggy: “nothing can stop me now, ’cause I don’t care anymore.” The album was recorded at Sharon Tate’s former home, and listeners can almost experience the effect it must have had on Reznor. The album is often violent, occasionally sinister and even distressing, with the melancholic A Warm Place and the classic Hurt. 1999’s The Fragile may be a more musically mature album, but for pure, unadulterated listening pleasure, nothing beats Spiral.

Beggars — Thrice. Every so often, an album comes along that truly moves me, with both the passion infused into the songs and the sheer technical and musical abilities of the band members. I’ve loved Thrice for a long time, and I’m still a massive fan of The Artist in the Ambulance. But no other band I can think of has matured to the same level Thrice has. Music reviewers go mental for Radiohead, but I’d argue that Thrice is better, and not just by a little bit, either. Beggars proves that. Every song ties together, and each are crafted not to technical perfection, but to emotional brilliance.

The Beatles — The Beatles. Earlier, I argued against two prominent double-disc albums (The Wall and The Fragile), instead opting for their single-disc counterparts in the pantheon of great albums. It may seem weird, then, that my favourite Beatles album is the White Album. Like the others, though, I have a very good reason: every song is good. That’s not to say Revolver had a bunch of bad tracks, but White has always seemed to me to be the most cohesive body of work they ever recorded. From “Back in the USSR” all the way to “Good Night”, it’s thirty songs of sheer wonder. Well, twenty-nine — I’ll excuse the existence of “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” because of the huge influence “Helter Skelter” has had in the last 40 years.

Kind of Blue — Miles Davis. Kind of Blue is Davis’ definitive work, and his best-selling record. In fact, it’s possibly the best-selling jazz record of all time. It is possibly one of the most influential albums ever, and is widely regarded to be Davis’ best work. Based exclusively on modality, it was recorded in just two days, and has remained regarded as a pinnacle of jazz for the five decades since.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot — Wilco. This album is part of a genre I like to call “cozy fireplace music”, which sounds exactly like you’d expect. It’s comforting, it’s relaxing, it’s lyrical and it’s interesting. Notably, this also includes the American Analog Set album below. Wilco’s version of this genre is compelling and intriguing. There’s liberal use of acoustic guitars and warm-toned vocals, interspersed with distorted drum beats and glitches. It’s not an album for everyone, but it’s an album for me.

Know by Heart — The American Analog Set. The album opens with a song called “Punk as Fuck.” If you were unfamiliar with AmAnSet, you might expect some roaring guitars or wild drums. As it turns out, the listener is greeted with a soft drum beat, plucked guitar and a buzzy organ. It’s more “Jazzy as Fuck”, but all the same, it’s impeccable. The album continues in a similar vein, each song burying deep into the warmths of your heart, nurturing you on perhaps a cold, miserable day, or a hot summer’s day. Who cares? It’s warm, interesting and beautiful any way you care to cut it.

Electric Ladyland — The Jimi Hendrix Experience. If you play in any rock band, of any particular strain, if you have a guitar, perhaps distorted, you were at least partly inspired by Jimi Hendrix. It’s a simple, unavoidable fact. On Ladyland, Hendrix flexes his substantial guitar muscles, in all his glory. He reaches new highs on this album, climaxing with “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)”, arguably some of the best electric guitar the world has ever heard. Joe Satriani describes it as “the greatest piece of electric guitar work ever recorded. In fact, the whole song could be considered the holy grail of guitar expression and technique. It is a beacon of humanity.” It’s a breathtaking song, on a breathtaking album.

Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death — Dead Kennedys. As usual for the Kennedys, the songs on Convenience are a biting, razor-sharp commentary on contemporary society, sprinkled with wit, improv and Biafra’s unique brand of humour. Every song is loaded to the teeth with no-holds-barred opinion and comment, in a way only the Kennedys can conjure. Some prefer Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables — I like that album, but there’s something about Convenience that keeps me coming back. It might be the slightly eclectic, collective nature of the album, as it’s a b-sides and rarities compilation. Whatever it is, the gung-ho attitude of it works for me.

In Utero — Nirvana. Before departing from this world, Kurt Cobain managed to finish two of the best albums of his career. The MTV Unplugged performance is one example, but the other is the final studio album: In Utero. Steve Albini brought the band back to a more low-fi sound, as opposed to the multilayered, cleaner sound featured on Nevermind, and the dedication to a less polished product worked for the music. The songs sound raw, pure and untouched, as if Cobain’s mouth were just inches from the listener’s ear. It’s a beautiful, touching album, worthy of only the highest praise.