Number 7 - The Money Store by Death Grips

Number 7: The Money Store by Death Grips

Breaking new musical ground

Release: April 20th, 2011
Genre: Experimental Hip-Hop
Favorite Tracks: Hacker, The Fever (Aye Aye), Punk Weight

 

Where I heard it: 

How often to you get to hear music of the likes you've never heard before? As my taste in music has vastly expanded throughout my adulthood, those instances are become more and more sparce by the day. It might be a conceited thought, but I feel as though I've heard just about everything that's out there. However, there's the rare example from time to time that comes along and reminds me that music is an ever-expanding paradigm that will always have something new on the horizon. Death Grips is one of the latest bands that's developed from unknown curiosities to full-blown obsession, and it all started in my garage during the spring of 2015. At the house I was living in during that time, my friends and I would often convene during off days from work and school into my garage for smoke sessions and musical show-and-tell from our own personal libraries. One day, my friend Chase was eager to introduce me to a band called Death Grips that he felt I'd really enjoy. I was played the 2011 single Guillotine, and initially I was on the fence about my opinions on Death Grips. I couldn't quite place a finger on the genre, as it was an intense and confusing mix of hip-hop and electronica that eluded my ears up to this point. As luck would have it, I already had tickets to the upcoming music festival Riot Fest, which featured a brief performance by Death Grips themselves. Reluctantly, I decided to attend their time slot with my friends as one of the opening groups we'd see that day, and I found myself fully immersed within the frantic mosh pit in the center of the crowd that raged along with the band. The set was maybe only thirty to forty-five minutes, but I was left thirsty for more after such an impassioned and somewhat mysterious performance. I still felt so far removed from the passionate community of Death Grips fans, and I desperately wanted to understand more about the deep lore of the group. I was recommended The Money Store as a starting point by more knowledgeable friends of mine, and it's about time I give credit to this album for how much it shattered my perspective on modern music, and really music as a whole.

Drilled a hole into my head
Pierced the bone and felt the breeze
Lift my thoughts out dem sick bed
With a pair of crow skeleton wings
Known nothing since then it seems
Been floating through the nexus threading dreams
~ Get Got

 

What to expect:

What do you get when you cross an MC, an EDM DJ, and a metal drummer? It's not a poorly crafted joke; it's the line up for one of the most revolutionary bands of the 21st century. One of several projects involving prolific percussionist Zach Hill, Andy Morrin and Stefan Burnett (better known by his stage name MC Ride) formed Death Grips in late 2010, wasting little time  before the release of their debut EP Exmilitary in early 2011. Despite their unique conglomerate of musical influences, Death Grips' collective creative direction is all the same: an aggressive sonic assault that utilizes its differences to its advantage. Each song shines a slightly brighter spotlight on individual performers, thereby immersing tracks with the stylistic tendencies of its given genre. The Money Store is a continuation of these ideals bound into a straight jacket, an eclectic hybrid of club bangers like Blackjack,  hood anthems like Bitch Please, and mainstream hits like I've Seen Footage. In comparison to Exmilitary, Death Grips dials back the intensity a tad on their first major release to present something a bit more palatable for general audiences. Make no mistake though; The Money Store is still an abrasive punch to the mouth, thanks largely to the ego-fueled charisma of its musicians. Most prominently, MC Ride is best representative of this trait as the group's vocalist, delivering his verses through ominous mumbles and furious howls that exhibit a reckless abandon of pitch. There's times in songs like Fuck That and The Fever (Aye Aye) where the mic's volume limit is exceeded, momentarily blowing out the mix. MC Ride's performances are guided through his frenzied mood swings, equating into rambling and often nonsensical verses that mask their contrived complexity. Meanwhile, Andy Morrin takes a more reserved approach to his expression, composing arrangements for Get Got and Punk Weight that crank up the bass and speed up the tempo for an exhilarating rush of adrenaline. Morrin's clever sample work is disguised through heavy modulation of cryptic references such as Arabic ringtones, an exercise from the California-based drum corps Blue Devils, and grunts from famous tennis player Serena Williams. With these obscure snippets, Morrin sews together the fragments into highly industrial beats that thoughtfully reimagine its source material. His layering is rounded out by Zach Hill, the driving force behind the mind-bending rhythmic structure of The Money Store. His strategy of balancing electronic drum patches with acoustic kit samples integrated into Morrin's mixing creates a dichotomy throughout the album that emphasizes the modern feel of new-age technology, or the harshness of a good old-fashioned cymbal crash. Hill is remarkably gifted with his talents, flaunting his advanced technical skills with impressive fills in songs like Double Helix that harken back to his math metal roots. Through its distorted filter, Hill's brand of berserk drumming transforms into a mesmerizing trance that perfectly accompanies the energetic elements of The Money Store. The stark contrast among the members of Death Grips cannot be understated, but this album manages to chart new territory with that polarity, even if done accidently. Although that genius is tough to acknowledge at face value, I believe The Money Store is as deliberate a product as you can find these days.

I got this pregnant snake
Stays surrounded by long hairs
A plethora of maniacs and spiral stairs
Make your water break in the Apple store
Sink or swim, who fucking cares
Cut the birth cords
Press send
Yeah, thick
Gaga can't handle this shit
~ Hacker

Why it's my favorite: 

I've always considered my musical preferences to lean toward the extreme; maybe even gruesome at times. There's an emotional response triggered within me when a song pumps me up that gets my blood flowing and my dopamine coursing. I think of it as aural relief, in which I can channel my anger and stress into a medium that translates those feelings. Between dubstep, metal, and gangsta rap, I had plenty of provocative material to mold my impressionable little brain leading into adulthood. The methods used in these genres to elicit that excitement vary, but it's just different means to the same end. When you blend those techniques together, the results are a disorienting fusion that border upon sensory overload as a listener. This procedure can be off-putting to many, but it rewards those that bravely choose to stay and listen with a one-of-a-kind experience that cannot and will not be replicated. Death Grips are more than just a curiosity for older generations to balk at in disappointment; they're retrospectively documenting the history of music that led up to the point of their existence. The Death Grips family tree is an astounding domino effect over time that eclipses a vast range of artists entirely unrelated in nature. They defy the image of the squeaky-clean radio darlings with bizarre, unhinged performances that come through on stage just as much as their recordings.  It's remarkable that anybody could conceive something of this caliber, and yet Death Grips continues to push the limits of their creativity with albums like The Powers That B and Bottomless Pit. Despite my deep love for a lot of the Death Grips catalog, I've always viewed The Money Store as the most complete and comprehensive album experience to listen to. This album is a refined masterpiece that symbolizes a leap forward for experimental music, cultivating a fanbase of rabid audiophiles that idly anticipate the next installment of insanity. To date, I've seen Death Grips three times, and every concert I attend seems to be bigger and better than the last. While their sound may not be your particular cup of tea, it's futile to deny the stranglehold Death Grips has had on popular culture in the last decade, and The Money Store is a huge part of that notoriety. While they may not be at the forefront of the industry, Death Grips has swung the door wide open for artists looking to adventure off into niche subgenres. Who knows what a band inspired by Death Grips could accomplish? Until then, we can only wonder...

Number 8 - Both Sides of the Brain by Del the Funky Homosapien

 Number 8: Both Sides of the Brain by Del the Funky Homosapien

Unlimited lyrical potential

Release: April 11th, 2000
Genre: Hip-Hop
Favorite Tracks: If You Must, Pet Peeves, Skull & Crossbones

 

Where I heard it: 

Who ever could have imagined that a game about skateboarding could influence someone's music tastes so strongly? Sadly, this is the last time I get to gush about Tony Hawk's Pro Skater, so it's only right that I pay a proper homage to the second-most influential video game franchise in shaping my music preferences (behind only Guitar Hero). Skate culture was hitting the mainstream at the turn of the millennium, injecting a rebellious aspect of counterculture into a society once appalled by these very creatures. Tony Hawk became a household name through his pioneering of the sport in X-Games appearances that held top billing on reputable networks like ESPN. I'm not sure how the concept of a video game came about, but it seemed like a natural progression when Tony Hawk's Pro Skater released to the masses. I didn't personally catch on until I acquired the third installment for my Gamecube in 2002, and I played the hell out of that disc. I determinedly set out to complete every goal in each level, abusing the cheat codes of the game to rack up the highest combos I could score. All the while, I was treated to an in-game soundtrack that perfectly aided the experience with a plethora of different genres. I heard some of my favorite artists of all-time like KRS-One, Iron Maiden, Aesop Rock, and even System of a Down for my first time because of this franchise. The only problem was that I was still a child, so none of it really resonated with me. However, even as a child, I gravitated toward one particular song off THPS3: If You Must by Del the Funky Homosapien. The song had a bouncy riff that caught my ear at an early age, punctuated by synth patches that really leapt out of my terrible TV speakers. Although I played this game significantly in my youth, it wouldn't be until 2015 that I revisited the soundtrack outside of gameplay due to nostalgic curiosity. I was interested in seeing if any of the songs held up to my tastes after repeatedly hearing praise for them from numerous sources. Quite a few selections I found to be even better then I remembered, which led me to checking out the albums each track resided on. I instantly remembered my love for If You Must during this process, and that reverence has only grown after taking a deeper look at Del. Both Sides of the Brain is easily my favorite rap album, and it doesn't take long to find out why that is.

Yo wassup this is D-E-L

Man, I was listening to these two cats on the street

They was talkin' about which MC was the livest, right?

This one cat was like, "Man, D-E-L, he's so tight, right?"

The other one was like, "D-E-L? He hella weak!
I'll never buy his shit!"

I was sittin' there amazed, like, "Man, I gotta hit the studio, man!
Come up with some new shit!"
~ Signature Slogans

What to expect:

Whether you know it or not, you've likely already been exposed to Del through his uncredited contributions with the Gorillaz on their hit song Clint Eastwood. His bars are no doubt the feature presentation, but it's criminal to base Del off of this performance alone. The accolades Del had notched under his belt to earn him this opportunity in the first place put him way further beyond any of the verses he lends to Clint Eastwood. Cousins with legendary west-coast rapper Ice Cube, Del produced his 1991 debut album I Wish My Brother George Was Here at just 19 years old with the assistance of his famous family. Although the album was well-received, Del was disappointed with the direction of the album, splitting off from Ice Cube's team to join the hip-hop collective Hieroglyphics. Many of its members accompanied Del on his follow-up record No Need for Alarm, while simultaneously participating in the creation of Hieroglyphics' first release 3rd Eye Vision. Del found himself committed to the studio in the latter half of the 90's, pursuing collaborations left and right such as Deltron 3030 that kept his imaginative verses coming. Both Sides of the Brain was dropped right in the middle of this period of activity, containing some of the strongest material Del has ever been a part of. Much like his cousin Ice Cube, Del utilizes playful rhyme schemes and witty songwriting to demonstrate his verbose lyrical content. However, Del contrasts the intimidating demeanor of Ice Cube's gangsta rap with a consciousness that reflects his aspirations to be a rapper and not a criminal. As a result, Both Sides of the Brain largely condemns rappers of this style as inferior novelty acts, dismissing their criticisms towards Del's mindset as feeble attempts to undermine his dedication to the art. Songs like Phoney Phranchise and Fake as Fuck aren't shy in the slightest about putting Del's foes on blast, even going as far as directly calling out Chuck D of Public Enemy in Pet Peeves for spreading inflammatory rumors to the tabloids. Del isn't looking to pick a fight without provocation; he's busy letting his bars do the talking for him. Del's rapping is comprehensive in ways I haven't heard from any other artist. His tantalizing lexicon fluently constructs rambling rhetoric that emulates the improvisational skills of freestyle rappers. While his vocabulary is certainly extensive, the narrative structure of every verse is tightly strung together with a conversational pace that feels completely natural in practice. Similarly, the mixing of the album is orchestrated as such to seamlessly transition from one song to the next. This method gives Both Sides of the Brain a satisfying thoroughness that encourages the listener to stay tuned for the next spectacle. It also allows Del to expand upon a particularly catchy beat to ensure its inclusion isn't thrown away so easily. The symbiotic relationship between artist and producer establishes palpable chemistry you can hear in the clean flow swaps within Pet Peeves and Signature Slogans, each component of the music vying for supremacy. Together, Del's team competes among themselves to make Both Sides of the Brain as enjoyable as possible, a feat I believe they attained with plenty of effort to spare.

 Check the rearview mirror, the coast is clear
Tryin' to focus here but I can't
Drunk as hell
Bust a rail
Now I'm sailin' off the cliff
High off a spliff plus a fifth
I bust my shit
Now I'm rollin' down the side like a suicide
What will my family do if I die?
~ Skull & Crossbones

 

Why it's my favorite:  

I've only been listening to hip-hop for the better part of a decade, but that duration was long enough for me to know what my tastes in hip-hop gravitate toward: musically challenging, high energy bops with an aura of sophistication to their composition. Albums from artists like MF Doom and KRS-One exhibit these traits to a tee, but they still don't manage to touch Both Sides of the Brain in terms of favorability. Part of that I feel is attributed to Del's laymen songwriting approach to Both Sides of the Brain. Without the reliance of common hip-hop tropes involving sex, money, and violence, Del's raps have broader sources of inspiration that listeners can relate to closer than some of the genre's more exuberant examples. BM's recounts a celebratory trip to Amsterdam after completing a year of drug probation, and Proto Culture flexes Del's close affiliation with the innovative medium of gaming at the turn of the millennium. Both Sides of the Brain can be tongue-in-cheek just as well, with songs like Soopa Feen and If You Must hyperbolizing stereotypes of transient and unhygienic people to form fictional anti-hero type characters that are charmingly lovable, but social nuisances nonetheless. When Del isn't reminiscing upon the simple pleasures of life, he's cementing his legacy as one of rap's great wordsmiths. Although his popularity seldom crossed over into the mainstream, Del is humble enough to embrace his underground label, while simultaneously possessing a cockiness that leaves no doubt in his mind that he's one of the best MCs to ever rock the mic. I've gotta say, I don't have a lot of evidence against him to disagree. Across his entire repertoire, Del has diligently crafted some of the most fun bars I have ever had the pleasure of listening to. I think that's a large part of what modern hip-hop fails to acknowledge in regards to the success of the classics: there was so much room for fun. Del never takes himself so seriously that it damages his ego; he's just gonna do his thing, critics be damned. I wish Del had a greater presence in hip-hop than he does currently, but the fact he is so publicly revered solely off one performance is a testament to the potential Del had to be the next sensation in rap, had he chose that path for himself. Instead, Del's love for the music helped bring forth albums like Both Sides of the Brain that have forever set the precedent for hip-hop groups going forward.

Number 9 - The Great Southern Trendkill by Pantera

 Number 9: The Great Southern Trendkill by Pantera

A Texas-sized thrashing

Release: May 7th, 1996
Genre: Groove Metal
Favorite Tracks: Drag the Waters, The Great Southern Trendkill, Suicide Note, Pt. 2

 

Where I heard it: 

Starting with Metallica in 2008, I've had an overwhelming influx of new metal bands and subgenres to dive into throughout my life. I feel like metal has always been a genre I've had encompassing knowledge on, a natural progression after exhausting the fair majority of the classic rock catalog. In fact, metal has consistently maintained playtime in my listening rotation; it might even be my favorite genre. I've heard the heaviest of its offerings - Cannibal Corpse, Whitechapel, Meshuggah, Carbomb - and yet there's one band I find myself coming back to for a surge of adrenaline no others can provide: Pantera. They're a band I didn't really get into until after high school, but I've always been aware of their existence going back to my origins with metal. As a kid, I spent a lot of time listening to the radio for my musical consumption, and my preferred station was the hard rock haven of southern Colorado's 94.3 KILO. My budding knowledge of metal was nurtured into a full-blown lexicon here, introducing me to Pantera staples like Walk and Cowboys From Hell. For some reason, Pantera never found their way onto my radar until much later, after I'd discovered an astounding assortment of metal groups I adored. The Great Southern Trendkill was available to play in its entirety (sans Suicide Note, Pt. 1) as DLC on Rock Band 4, a modern rebirth for the franchise that I played religiously for years after release in 2015. I was living with my friend Paul in late 2017 when we acquired The Great Southern Trendkill and began chasing the leaderboards, myself on guitar and Paul on drums. We emulated two legends on their respective instruments: Dimebag Darrell and Vinnie Paul. Pantera began to grow on me as we played through the ten available songs from The Great Southern Trendkill, leading me to buy the vinyls for Vulgar Display of Power and Cowboys From Hell. I was officially diagnosed with headbanger's disease, constantly spinning these two albums in my room and rocking out to some of the finest metal tracks ever conceived. However, I never lost that association with The Great Southern Trendkill. When it came time to compile my top 100 albums, it turns out I still haven't gotten over how good this album is.

All the money in the fucking world
Couldn't buy me a second of trust
Or one ounce of faith in anything you're about
Fuck you all
Nothing is worth the sleep that I've lost
Apologies unacceptable now
A blistered revenge awaits in me
This is fucking loveless
~ War Nerve 

 

What to expect: 

Pantera has experienced one of the most unbelievable career turnarounds of any band, initially beginning their recording tenure in the early 80's as a glam rock band. They chose to pursue a heavier sound after the departure of original vocalist Terry Glaze in 1986, leading to the recruitment of Phil Anselmo, a grittier vocalist with high vocal range to boot. The band earned a recording contract while on a demanding tour schedule, and suddenly found themselves in the spotlight on the main stage. They knew this opportunity couldn't go to waste, dropping a bombshell with 1990's Cowboys From Hell. Pantera delivers an absolutely unhinged performance that's a far cry from their glam roots, cranking the amplifiers to maximum volume and eviscerating tracks to a pulp with an explosive fury that leaves listeners paralyzed in its wake of destruction. "Dimebag" Darell Abbott put himself on the map with furious fretwork that rivaled all-time greats like Eddie Van Halen. Phil Anselmo ditches any semblance of melody for an aggressive growl which bellows through the speakers with every roar. Pantera were the biggest sensation in metal throughout the 90's with mainstream hits like Vulgar Display of Power and Far Beyond Driven, but the demand took a toll on the band's spirited frontman. Anselmo dealt with chronic back pain caused by years of erratic behavior on stage, but when surgery was ruled out as an option due to his unrelenting work ethic, he turned to sedatives like heroin to keep the machine running. This decision brewed tension among Anselmo and the Abbott brothers, which reached a boiling point during the early stages of The Great Southern Trendkill, resulting in separate recording sessions between Anselmo in New Orleans and the rest of the band in their native Texas. Although Pantera did not see eye-to-eye personally, their vision for The Great Southern Trendkill was crystal clear in its development. The album features its heaviest material yet for Pantera, executed through Anselmo's vehement vocal style. Driven by the mania of his addiction and his wrath toward the outside world, the themes of songs like War Nerve and Suicide Note carry a menacing nihilism that holds potent discontent for life. Anselmo's wretched screams in the title track are completely convincing in translating the mental anguish he suffers in this moment. This demonic display is further propagated by the punishing chords and wailing solos of Dimebag Darrell, a savant of riff-writing that is sure to melt your face off in any scenario. His symphonic strategy of rhythmic pacing puts on a metal masterclass for his predecessors to study. Whether the tempo is trudging in 10's or blistering in Suicide Note, Pt. 2, Dimebag has a hook that is sure to keep your head bobbing in speechless amazement. His brother Vinnie has similarly been bit by the musical bug, commanding the attention with booming double bass and crashing cymbals that triumphantly march through sections of The Underground in America and 13 Steps to Nowhere. The weight of the group's collective force is crushing, building to each climax until it collapses in epic fashion. Pantera has always made its money on tight unison breakdowns, but those moments in The Great Southern Trendkill seem to leave a larger crater upon impact. Often overlooked in their discography, this album has left an indelible impression on me that I simply can't pass over.

 Why would you help anyone who doesn't want it
Doesn't need it, doesn't want your shit advice
When a mind's made up to go ahead and die?
What's done is done, so why cry?
Tortured history, addict of misery, this exposes me
For weakness is a magnet
Watch me do it
Don't you try to die like me
It's livid and it's lies
And makes graves descending down
~ Suicide Note, Pt. 2

 

Why it's my favorite: 

Music has the remarkable capability to influence our moods just by listening to it. Personally, music helps evoke a wide range of emotion based on my feelings at any given time. I have playlists I listen to when I'm particularly chipper, songs I turn to in moments of weakness, and certainly an array of bands to take my aggression out during drives home from stressful days at work. I wouldn't consider myself short-tempered, but I'm no stranger to anger. Life can be tough sometimes, and I tend to hold a resentful attitude toward those tribulations. My most reliable outlet comes through the form of music, blasting some of the most abhorrent things over my speakers to relieve some of that internal angst. My seething never seems to last long after I've stewed over it for an hour or two. The Great Southern Trendkill has been a go-to for a while when I think about albums that embody blind rage. There's two components for me that give the album that reputation, the first being the magnificence of Dimebag Darrell. I've repeatedly told friends when discussing Pantera that Dimebag took all of the good riffs in metal and horded them all to himself. His catchy compositions are the backbone of the album, laying blow after blow with sludgy breakdowns and impervious solos that obliterate your mind. The second piece is exceedingly grimmer: Phil Anselmo's descent into extreme drug abuse played an imperative part in making The Great Southern Trendkill so brooding. The subject matter of the album comes from such a dark place within the catacombs of Anselmo's brain. Pantera's content can be pretty sinister as it is, but songs like War Nerve and Suicide Note, Pt. 2 are downright demented in nature. Anselmo's tortuous, blood-curdling shouts are only made possible through excessive heroin use, producing a horrific gurgling that appears toward the end of extended screams. I liken this performance to a method actor, fully immersed in their role in order to enhance their effectiveness. I'm no advocate for hard drugs, but that is just...the most goddamn metal thing I've ever heard. Conversely, Anselmo exhibits impressive control of his lower register in ballads like Suicide Note, Pt. 1 and Floods, his resonant bass tones echoing throughout. The Great Southern Trendkill represents the shortcomings of humanity's sin, a scar that symbolizes the path that led to its creation. Pantera's entire discography is full of incredible music, but there's something truly evil about this album. Who am I to deny that inner wickedry that resides deep within me? The Great Southern Trendkill allows me to acknowledge that feeling when it arises, and helps me realize that these emotions are only temporary. Much like the legacy of Pantera, nothing lasts forever.

Number 10 - Mir by Ott

 Number 10: Mir by Ott

Feel the vibrations

Release: March 15th, 2011
Genre: Psydub
Favorite Tracks: The Aubergine of the Sun, Adrift In Hilbert Space, One Day I Wish To Have This Kind Of Time

 

Where I heard it: 

What a beautiful platform music provides to share the bands we love most with the communities we hold dearest. I've discovered a few of my favorite bands of all-time purely based off the recommendation of friends. The majority of those friendships were forged during my involvement in my school's marching band program, where I spent countless hours rehearsing and competing on fields all across the state. As a drummer, it meant I was thrown into the fray alongside an eccentric cast of characters and expected to establish team synergy. Although our backgrounds were significantly different, we bonded together as each year passed and more memories were made. One of those who was often associated with those memories is my friend Mikey, a confident and ego-fueled kid that became one of the first people I was ever friends with in high school. Despite our contrasting personalities, we were practically attached at the hip over the course of our four years in high school. Not only did we see each other five days a week at school, we were spending just about every free weekend we had to engage in a bit of harmless teenage debauchery like trespassing and lighting off fireworks. Ah, kids...anyways, I believe it was around winter of 2011 when Mikey got his driver's license, so understandably we were bumping tunes over the stereo any time we traveled to our next destination. We were driving around one night when Mikey implored me to listen to a song he liked, which I had no choice as the passenger but to accept. Mikey switched on Jack's Cheese and Bread Snack by a little-known DJ named Ott, and the nearly thirteen minute epic blew my mind. It sounded futuristic and cutting-edge, completely foreign to my ears. I had only recently acquired a taste for electronic music in dubstep about a year prior, so my awareness of the genre's scope was incredibly limited. If this what Ott brought to the table, I was hungry for more. It wasn't long after that Mikey showed me selections from Ott's newest album Mir, some of the most beautiful pieces of music I've ever heard to this day. I've since familiarized myself with the entirety of Ott's work, but I just can't shake the chills my nostalgia gives me for Mir. It's yet another album that is symbolic of an era of my life, twice over in fact.

Welcome
We think you'll like it here
It's not perfect
But it's really all we've got
Most people you'll find are usually quite nice
And for the time you're here
There's lots to see and do
And we'll be here to care for you
And help you find your way 
~ The Aubergine of the Sun

What to expect:

Certainly, Ott is one of the lesser-known acts among the highest ranking entries on this list. That isn't to say that his music hasn't resonated strongly with fans the world over. Ott's mystifying compositions have captivated international audiences since the debut of his solo record Blumenkraft in 2003, compiled with the expertise Ott fostered as a producer for artists like Brian Eno and Sinead O'Connor. Ott specializes in the sounds of psydub, a subgenre that merges the progressive elements of psychedelic music with the reggae-inspired electronic beats of dub. Each song roots its base with a groovy hook that gradually builds upon itself with multiple rhythmic layers of club-style bass and danceable riffs.  Along with other notable contributors like Shpongle, Ott assisted in pioneering and popularizing psydub throughout the 2000s, setting the standard with the release of 2008's Skylon. In comparison to its off-putting predecessor, Skylon emphasizes its tone of uplifting euphoria with songs written in major key, creating a more musically inviting atmosphere that takes influence from the rich culture of Eastern religion. By the time of Mir's development, Ott was a seasoned professional in utilizing these tactics to engineer a listening experience tailored exactly to his specifications. Although Mir's track lengths can appear daunting, each song is deliberate in is direction and calculated in its cadence, sure of itself long before any music has played. Once the journey begins, Mir is sure to delight with a collection of instrumental odysseys that augment their own realities within the boundaries of their runtimes. Ott guides you through his meticulous sound labyrinths like a musical sherpa, holding the listener's hand with repeated, underlying melodies that establish familiarity throughout more involved and complicated sections of Squirrel and Biscuits and Mouse Eating Cheese. However, the majority of the album's pacing is naturally inherent, leaving little to be explained during fantastic suites like One Day I Wish To Have This Kind Of Time and The Aubergine of the Sun. Even more abstract arrangements possess enough attention to detail to fully flesh themselves out, such as the ethereal soundscape of A Nice Little Place. While Mir remains mostly without lyrics, there are several instances of vocal inclusions such as tribal-type chants in Owl Stretching Time and soundbites from English philosopher Alan Watts to introduce the album. Ultimately, Ott's vision for Mir is realized through a conglomerate of his prolific and creative imagination. This album is invigorated by the impassioned compulsion for perfection Ott holds for his work, and the results of this mindset pay dividends in the form of emotional fulfillment.

Simply close your eyes
And allow your ears to hear all sounds around you

Don't try to name or identify these sounds

Just hear them as you would listen to music

As when you hear a flute or a guitar

Don't bother about what it means

Your brain will take care of that by itself

~ One Day I Wish To Have This Kind Of Time 

Why it's my favorite: 

The nefarious connotations behind psychedelia's etymology are no secret. The phrase alludes to mind-altering substances that expand our thought patterns and enlighten our perception of the world. Mir exhibits these qualities to a tee,  devising meditative pieces that encourage a heightened state of mind to amplify its hypnotic effects. I personally engaged in this ceremonial practice starting in the winter of 2012 when I began associating with Mary Jane. One Day I Wish To Have This Kind Of Time was often the soundtrack to my smoke session as my mind drifted away into absolute bliss. The song provoked thoughtful tangents of serenity, shrouding me in a blanket of comfort that ensured my ensuing high would be one for the ages. Like the dangerous gateway drug it is, cannabis eventually gave way to greater experimentation with psychedelics in my twenties, moving on to LSD and psylocibic mushrooms. It was then that my experience of Ott formulated to understanding, first playing Mir on a trip during early 2019 while sequestered in the darkness of my room. I was laying on the floor, staring wondrously at the ceiling as the music took hold of me and ran through my consciousness. I was suddenly transfixed by the subtle production methods I had once entirely overlooked, with intently disorienting warps and swells that intensified my hallucinations. What amounted to about an hour felt like a lifetime spent within the confines of Mir's mysterious materiality. I was a different person after listening to this album on psychedelics, and I can still feel that change to this day. Mir has inexplicably made me a kinder and empathetic person, and I can't help but feel that Ott knowingly implanted that subliminal message when creating the album. Ott caters to his audience in brilliant ways, constructing remarkable passages that display the genius of the artist at the helm. Mir is a product that transcends music and delivers prosperous gifts that are ripe for the taking, given the right mentality. He's one of my favorite artists to share with other music lovers, an eternal debt I have to pay for the happiness Ott has shined onto my life. A small price to pay, if I do say so myself.

Number 11 - American Idiot by Green Day

 Number 11: American Idiot by Green Day

A pop-punk revolution

Release: September 24th, 2004
Genre: Pop-Punk
Favorite Tracks: Jesus of Suburbia, Homecoming, Holiday/Boulevard of Broken Dreams

 

Where I heard it: 

My first concert ever was on September 24th, 2005 at Oracle Park in San Francisco. I was nine years old with my mom and thirteen year old cousin, pressed against the front rail watching Green Day set the place ablaze with remarkable showmanship for their American Idiot tour. This day might be one of the most momentous points of my life, setting in motion my addiction for live music, and really music in general. Green Day became the first band I ever obsessed over, revolving my entire personality based off the rebellious and charismatic image of the band. I downloaded the CD for American Idiot to every device I possibly could. I'd turn on MTV while eating breakfast before school to watch music videos for American Idiot and Wake Me up When September Ends. My poor friends had to hear the same spiel day after day about how great these guys were, to which they were thankfully quite receptive to. In fact, a few friends and I even shambled together a four piece band, holding one or two rehearsals before playing a sloppy run through of Basket Case at one of my classmates' graduation parties. Ah, childhood memories...those were the good times. I had mostly grown out of my Green Day phase by the time I hit high school, orienting my tastes toward more intense and extreme genres. The lackluster commercial success of Green Day's discography around this time contributed a bit to this transition, framing the band in my mind as a thing of the past. I have no idea what caused it over time, but I guess I just...forgot how good American Idiot was? Look, I've listened to a lot of incredible music since my youth, some of the nostalgic masterpieces are bound to slip through the cracks. As I start to get older and look retrospectively on my life, I'm remembering and growing fonder of the music that shaped the course of my life to this point. There's just no way you can tell my story without the inclusion of American Idiot in there somewhere.

Left me here alone
And I should've stayed home
After ten cups of coffee I'm thinking
Nobody likes you
Everyone left you
They're all out without you
Having fun
~ Homecoming

What to expect:

Champions of the 90's punk scene, Green Day were starting to look like relics of the decade by the turn of the millennium. Their 2000 album Warning was met with lukewarm reception, and the release soon after of a greatest hits compilation International Superhits! all but sealed the group's posthumous fate. The band held several meetings to discuss the direction of the group before deciding to give it another go. Nearly 20 songs for their next album entitled Cigarettes and Valentines were recorded, until the demo tapes were stolen in a disastrous turn of events. This was a pivotal moment for Green Day, who could have very easily elected to rerecord the material. Instead, frontman Billie Joe Armstrong admitted to himself that these songs weren't representative of Green Day's best work, and returned to the drawing board with an attitude of rejuvenation. Along with Armstrong, bassist Mike Dirnt and drummer Tre Cool ambitiously crafted individual snippets that were initially disjointed, but gradually took form as the songwriting process unfolded. These series of songs would eventually become the five-part epic Homecoming, inspiring Green Day to develop an episodic format with the majority of the album. It wasn't until the title track American Idiot was written that Green Day began to establish a concept for the album: a rock opera that highlighted the fear and hysteria of the younger generation in an age dominated by politics, war, and greed. American Idiot focuses on the internal conflict of rage versus love with theatrical bravado inspired by plays like West Side Story and The Rocky Horror Show. The tracklist follows the anti-hero Jesus of Suburbia, a disparaged teenager looking to find a greater purpose by moving to the metropolis of San Francisco. There, he meets Saint Jimmy, who embarks our character on a journey of disobedient debauchery against the oppressive society that constricts them. In his plight, Jesus of Suburbia fosters a relationship with Whatshername, a bastion of revolution that contrasts the ethics of Saint Jimmy with her belief in a brighter future. Jesus of Suburbia chooses to follow Saint Jimmy, ultimately self-destructing and returning home to reflect upon the wreckage. The careful balance between music and lyrics is perfectly calibrated on American Idiot, embodying the band's usual eclectic energy with an overarching commentary on the world at large. Billie Joe's amazing lyrical arrangement keeps the flow of the story intact while simultaneously maintaining each song's integrity as a standalone hit. The narrative is there for the audience to follow; it's a choice whether or not the listener pays attention. Otherwise, you'll still be treated to over-the-top power chord riffs that seamlessly progress into passionate ballads dripping in poignancy. American Idiot was an undertaking Green Day had never seen the likes of, but paid off in massive dividends. They absolutely dominated the airwaves with a handful of charting singles like Holiday and Boulevard of Broken Dreams that spread like wildfire, but just don't attest to the wholistic experience the entire album brings. American Idiot is an album best ingested from start to finish, as the band intended.

Welcome to a new kind of tension

All across the alien nation

Where everything isn't meant to be okay

In television dreams of tomorrow

We're not the ones who're meant to follow

For that's enough to argue

Don't wanna be an American idiot

One nation controlled by the media

Information age of hysteria

It's calling out to idiot America 

~ American Idiot

Why it's my favorite: 

It's a strange sensation when the band you once considered to be your favorite is no longer that. I don't necessarily like Green Day any less; my tastes have just broadened considerably since I was nine years old. I think that's true of pretty much everybody. There's a fair amount of albums that aren't on my top 100 list because of the rose-tinted lenses I had previously viewed them through. These albums were merely a product of my own nostalgia exaggerating the reverence I had for them, and at first I thought American Idiot might have suffered that same impression. I listened to it for the first time in years in preparation for this list, and it just...put me right back. From a sentimental standpoint, it reminds me of the times where Green Day was my entire world. From a conceptual angle, American Idiot's criticisms of the Bush administration and resulting trauma of an entire generation from events during his tenure spoke to me personally. I experienced that same confusion and angst American Idiot encapsulates so concisely, even down to the detail of living in San Francisco. The dramatic twists and turns the album's plot takes are tangible and relatable instances that carry enough emotional weight to resonate personally with the listener. It's so easy for me to insert myself into the spot of the fictional protagonist in American Idiot's story, and I'm willing to bet it's the same for anybody else around my age. We've progressed so far as a society since W was in office, but Green Day had enough foresight to document the public demeanor of this time as a sort of time capsule for the future. My my, how quickly we forget. American Idiot's themes in turn have been rendered a timeless classic that boldly proclaims its statements against tyranny and oppression. It's tough to come up with anything else that even touches this monolithic work of art. Well...I can think of maybe ten.

Number 12 - The Number of the Beast by Iron Maiden

 Number 12: The Number of the Beast by Iron Maiden

One hell of an album

Release: March 22nd, 1982
Genre: Metal
Favorite Tracks: Children of the Damned, The Number of the Beast, 22 Acacia Avenue

 

Where I heard it: 

Iron Maiden...the name conjures imagery of gothic fantasy and torturous agony, all encased within a heavy metal frame. What a fitting name for one of metal music's most prolific and successful bands throughout the 80's and 90's. Like many classic rock bands, I have Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock to thank for my exposure to Iron Maiden. The Number of the Beast was one of the hardest songs to play on the setlist, and I attempted run after run for a chance to make it past the solos and complete the song. Not long after the sudden rise in popularity of rhythm games came developer Harmonix to challenge the Guitar Hero franchise with their own entry Rock Band, which drew appeal for its full-band model that included drums and vocals. Even as a devoted Guitar Hero fanboy, I looked on in jealous rage at those who had the entire Rock Band setup. Even when Guitar Hero: World Tour introduced their own version of drum and microphone peripherals, I looked on in jealousy toward the overall user experience of Rock Band. It just looked so fun to get everybody involved and feel like a true rock star. One of my better friends in middle school had the whole Rock Band getup that I played at a Halloween party he hosted, and I couldn't put the sticks down after trying my hand at drums. With the blind confidence of a teenager, I figured that if I was already an expert at Guitar Hero, it should be a natural skill transition onto any instrument. I demanded that we try the hardest track on the setlist, Run to the Hills, and promptly got my ass handed to me by the steady hi-hat that proved too quick for my abilities. Humbled but undeterred, I returned to my friend's house on a near weekly basis to stay the night and play Rock Band some more, honing in my drumming in hopes of capturing my white whale. Both Run to the Hills and The Number of the Beast were titanic goals of mine to conquer in middle school, but I didn't really hear the album they reside on until the start of high school. I was prompted to take a listen to The Number of the Beast with encouragement from my stepdad at the time, who played Piece of Mind in his van on a random drive around town that caught my attention. I didn't know very much of the Iron Maiden catalog; I was more interested in thrash metal like Metallica and Slayer. However, one listen to The Number of the Beast showed me that there's more to metal than just playing fast.

Woe to you, oh Earth and sea
For the Devil sends the beast with wrath
Because he knows that time is short
Let him who hath understanding
Reckon the number of the beast
For it is a human number
Its number is six hundred and sixty-six
~ The Number of the Beast

What to expect:

Since their inception in 1980, Iron Maiden have released a whopping seventeen studio albums, and are still going strong. An immense discography like this can be pretty intimidating, so what better place to start than the beginning? The Iron Maiden lineup of today looked a whole lot different upon the release of their first two albums Iron Maiden and Killers. Only bassist Steve Harris and guitarist Dave Murray have maintained consistency within the revolving cast of the band, acquiring their permanent pieces later in the process. Their first acquisition came in between Iron Maiden and Killers with the addition of secondary guitarist Adrian Smith, increasing the firepower of their arsenal with trade-off solos. Their next and perhaps most important change came after the departure of vocalist Paul Di'Anno. In his place, Bruce Dickenson was recruited on the spot after a stellar audition. Dickenson impressed both Harris and Murray with his high-flying vocal range, and the duo intrigued Dickenson with their professionalism in comparison to his previous operation. The new era of Iron Maiden had officially begun, launching into the stratosphere with the epic installation The Number of the Beast. The band's recent alterations are immediately apparent, as Dickenson's theatrical timbre injects a powerful energy to the production that compels every member to deliver a performance worthy of Dickenson's efforts. Iron Maiden rises to that occasion on every single track from this album, composing masterpiece after masterpiece with remarkable group synergy. Dickenson's sheer vocal intensity opens up the door for Harris' songwriting to take full form, weaving extraordinary tales involving mythical lore and triumphant battles. Steve Harris is one of the most involved bass players across all musical genres, shattering the stereotype of useless bassists in bands with subtle yet intricate interludes in 22 Acacia Avenue and Run to the Hills. The partnership between Adrian Smith and Dave Murray collectively double the length of solos in songs like The Prisoner and Invaders, each looking to outdo the other with a friendly competitiveness that pushes the duo to greater and greater heights. Although he would be replaced by the band's current drummer Nicko McBrian, Clive Burr deserves a nod for his excellence on the drums. Even in the quickest of tempos during Children of the Damned and Run to the Hills, Burr shows unwavering precision in keeping this careening ship on course. Iron Maiden is a spectacle to behold when the motor is churning, but I think some of the most gripping moments from The Number of the Beast are their sinister ballad-style intros from Children of the Damned and Hallowed Be Thy Name. These sections build enormous amounts of tension and anticipation before exploding into the electric riffs the group is known for. There's so much versatility among the members of Iron Maiden, and The Number of the Beast is a playground for such exploration. This album represents a rebirth for the group, and it's spawned from the very depths of hell. There's no other explanation for these otherworldly talents. 

As I walk, my life drifts before me

Though the end is near, I'm not sorry
Catch my soul, it's willing to fly away
Mark my words, believe my soul lives on
Don't worry now that I have gone
I've gone beyond to seek the truth
When you know that your time is close at hand
Maybe then you'll begin to understand
Life down here is just a strange illusion
~ Hallowed Be Thy Name
 

Why it's my favorite: 

I'm always surprised by how long it took me to become hooked on such a staple like Iron Maiden. I always knew they were good, but certainly never considered them among my favorites of all-time until I was well out of high school. Sometimes it takes listening to everything else that's out there to realize and appreciate what's always been there. Most of the time, all I have to do is attend a concert to understand the potency behind a band's legacy. This was the case for Iron Maiden in 2016, when I attended a stop on their Book of Souls tour as a birthday gift from my mom. I had tickets for the lower bowl, but I desperately wanted to be in the pit for this show. I bided my time before the show started until I successfully snuck my way through security onto the floor, where I got to experience one of the best concerts of my life. They played all the hits and didn't miss a single beat, even at their growing age. Every person on that stage was integral to the performance, and I think that's when the draw of Iron Maiden kinda clicked for me. With the omission of any of the band's members from 1982 onward, there's a significant loss within the creative vision of the band. Bruce Dickenson's voice has since become synonymous with the iconic Iron Maiden brand. Without Dave Murray and Adrian Smith (as well as Janick Gers later on), we wouldn't have some of the cleanest and most sensational licks known to man. Steve Harris is an unsung hero that provides enthralling narratives with a caliber of songwriting is second to none. Nicko McBrian might be the most expendable of the bunch, but there's years of chemistry with the band that go to waste without him. The Number of the Beast laid the foundation for the quintessential Iron Maiden album, and the band has tirelessly worked for decades to preserve it. Hell, they may have set the precedent for heavy metal as a whole. It's not shocking to me at all seeing them recording albums and selling out arenas after all this time. It's clear that Iron Maiden's love of the music drives them to continue their passion. That's the kind of genuine attitude that makes an album like The Number of the Beast so admirable: you can tell the musicians enjoy making the music almost as much as their audience enjoys hearing it. With how seriously metal acts can be perceived these days, maybe the genre could take a page out of Iron Maiden's book and just have a little fun for once.

Number 13 - Toxicity by System of a Down

 Number 13: Toxicity by System of a Down

Why'd you leave the keys upon the table?

Release: September 4th, 2001
Genre: Alternative Metal
Favorite Tracks: Prison Song, Toxicity, Deer Dance

 

Where I heard it: 

Now that we're getting into some of my favorite bands of all-time, it's becoming increasingly difficult to pinpoint a singular instance in my life that led me to my fandom. Some groups I knew about long before I heard any of their content. Such is the case for System of a Down, who I first heard around 2004 or 2005 after looking up the music video for Chop Suey!. There's a portion of the video where the camera rotates on a fixed point, which one of my cousins' friends had made an animated GIF of for her DeviantArt profile picture. Man, I really dated myself with that sentence. Anyways, the band's freakish and somewhat demented appearance in the video really made an impression on me as a child. These scary guys were yelling about makeup and tables or something; it's not easy to forget when you're a fairly sheltered kid. It wouldn't be but a few months later when I sat down one morning for breakfast, turned on MTV, and saw the music video for System of a Down's latest single B.Y.O.B.. If I wasn't intimidated by them yet, this is the point I was truly frightened by the band's work. The eerie imagery of the footage paired with the satanic screams of the song's breakdown left a permanent scar on my susceptible young mind. However, I was strangely drawn to my fear like a moth to a flame, and sought out to learn more about this crazy band through my own research. I discovered such classics as Sugar and Toxicity that received regular radio airplay before downloading deeper cuts like Chic 'N' Stu and Violent Pornography to my iPod in middle school. 2013 would be a pivotal year in my SOAD fandom, as my friend group started to discuss music more regularly, which led to a discussion on System of a Down. I took a closer listen to each of their five albums during this time, and attempted to narrow down which was my favorite. For a long time, their eponymous debut album took that crown, but I've found Toxicity to be the most enjoyable experience in recent years. There's a noticeable evolution from the first album to the second that really cemented the creative direction of such a unique band as System of a Down.

All research and successful drug policies
Show that treatment should be increased
And law enforcement decreased
While abolishing mandatory minimum sentences
Utilizing drugs to pay
For secret wars around the world
Drugs are now your global policy
Now you police the globe
I buy my crack, my smack, my bitch
Right here in Hollywood
Drug money is used to rig elections 
And train brutal corporate-sponsored dictators
 Around the world
~ Prison Song
 

What to expect:

In the realm of alternative metal, System of a Down is about as 'alternative' of a sound as you can find. When you imagine the traditional qualities of a metal song, normally traits like heavily distorted guitar chords and blast beat drums come to mind. You'll find all of that in System of a Down, but it's very clear right off the bat that these guys carry themselves much differently than other rock groups. Especially toward the latter half of their discography, System of a Down's albums have a sophisticated and theatrical feel to their production. Toxicity was a launching point for this mentality, as it introduced the clean harmonies and sporadic outbursts of guitarist Daron Malakian, who worked diligently to align his vocal caliber to that of vocalist Serj Tankian. The combination of Daron and Serj's vocals elevates Toxicity from a squabbling shouting match to a thoughtful musical masterpiece, adding a layer of depth to impactful tandem segments in ATWA and Aerials. This duo is aided by the rhythm section of bassist Shavo Odadjian and drummer John Dolmayan, who exhibit impressive amounts of range in their arsenal. The majority of Toxicity embraces an intense, high-volume approach to its choruses that double the string parts to emphasize its frenzied riffs. In contrast, verses will display an astounding amount of control and independence among its members, each accountable for establishing the appropriate mood in the moment. One contributing factor that plays into their distinct compositional style lies in the band's Armenian heritage, which brings middle-eastern inspired musical scaling that's most evident in songs like Science and Arto. An unintended side effect of System of a Down's Armenian-American descent is a heightened political consciousness in their music, as Armenia has endured generational conflict and atrocity by surrounding nations in the middle-east. The fury behind the screams of Serj and Daron have weight and purpose to them, exposing societal failures in the prison and military industrial complexes with Prison Song and Deer Dance respectively. While the importance of the message in these songs is explicitly conveyed, some commentaries are better disguised through abstract convolution like Bounce's views on promiscuous sex or Jet Pilot's take on the devastation caused by weapons of mass destruction. No matter the occasion, Toxicity utilizes its variety of tactics to evoke an emotional response from the listener towards its shocking material. System of a Down takes the concept of social justice that groups like Rage Against the Machine helped foster, and reinvents itself to appeal to the new-age sound of the time. I've noticed alternative metal making a revival in popular culture lately, and Toxicity is still considered paramount in its era.

 Making two possibilities a reality
Predicting the future of things we all know
Fighting off the diseased programming of centuries
Science fails to recognize
The single most potent element of human existence
Letting the reigns go to the unfolding is faith
Science has failed our world
Science has failed our Mother Earth
~ Science

Why it's my favorite: 

It's story time once again! I had the pleasure of attending the Riot Fest music festival in August of 2015, which featured System of a Down as the headlining band. I saw a ton of fantastic groups that day I never would have bought tickets to see otherwise, but System of a Down was at the top of the list of bands I wanted to see live for a while. Long time fans understand the exasperating patience of waiting for a new album that seems less likely by the day, so I knew seeing the band in concert would be the next best thing. When the group opened up with Deer Dance, the audience rushed forward about 100 feet and chaotically jumped in unison, allowing me to mosey my way through the crowd until I suddenly found myself about ten feet from the stage. The density of the mob was crushing, recklessly flowing at the will of gravity's momentum. System of a Down was relentless in their pursuit to play as many songs as possible, rolling on promptly from one track to the next in a medley marathon. I made it about halfway through the setlist before I found myself missing both my shoes and one sock in the dirt lot of the festival grounds, and I knew I had to bail out before things got any more dangerous. I proceeded upon my exodus through the masses of people toward the back, stumbling for what felt like hours before posting up at a merch tent and watching the rest of the show from a distance. Simply put, System of a Down is my favorite concert experience to this day. I regret not proportioning my energy to stay involved throughout the show, but I felt compelled to give it everything I had in that mosh pit while in the presence of some of my musical idols. System of a Down's music infiltrated my soul that night, and the personal significance of the songs on the setlist hold irreplaceable sentiment to me. There was a point where Daron paused the show to lead the crowd in a circle mosh before the breakdown of Toxicity, playfully singing along to the guitar riff before unleashing an explosion of sound on the crowd, inciting a massive riot congregated within the center. Out of the dozens of shows I've attended, I've yet to replicate the feeling I experienced that night years ago. What does that have to do with my love for Toxicity? Well, it just kinda comes with the territory. Realistically, I could put any album from System of a Down onto this list, and I'd still have the same reverence for this band. There's just a certain affinity I have for Toxicity that I can't necessarily explain. Hopefully I did well enough with this entry.