Number 4 - Nonagon Infinity by King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard

 Number 4: Nonagon Infinity by King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard

Nonagon infinity opens the door

Release: April 29th, 2016
Genre: Progressive Rock
Favorite Tracks: Mr. Beat, Gamma Knife, Robot Stop

 

Where I heard it: 

Growing up, my musical affinity mainly revolved around material that was made decades ago. One unforeseen consequence of my outdated tastes was that many of the groups I loved most were either defunct, or well past their prime for touring. That didn't stop me from making the most of what I had, but I had a realization during the pandemic that current music was not, in fact, the demon spawn of Satan, and there was plenty to discover among active modern groups. Nearing the end of lockdown restrictions, I grew closer with a friend of mine named Aspen, who I bonded with through the absence of a mutual friend during his tenure in the military. Music was a regular point of conversation between us, and around the spring of 2021, they asked me if I had ever heard of the band King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. The name alone caught my attention, and Aspen was persistent that I give them a try. I headed to Spotify to peruse the top songs from King Gizz, starting with their most popular: Work This Time off Oddments. My first impressions were a bit underwhelming, considering the excitement of which Aspen had recommended this band to me with. After listening through Oddments, I jumped over to their 2015 album Quarters!, which piqued my interest in King Gizz significantly more than my previous endeavor. It was around this time where I made the same realization many newcomers have encountered in their fandom: these guys have a lot of albums. By mid 2021, the King Gizz discography was just short of twenty entries. There were periods where they would release five albums over the course of a single year, an unprecedented pace that boggled my brain. Realizing what I had gotten myself into, I understood the daunting task ahead of me: I had plenty of catching up to do. My third foray with King Gizz, I'm In Your Mind Fuzz, was when things finally started to click for me. This album was the bait that snagged me hook, line, and sinker into the wild world of the weirdo swarm, a vast and mystifying realm that still felt ripe for the plundering. I immediately sought out connection with the King Gizz community, heading over to the subreddit to further educate myself in my newfound knowledge. Having most recently heard I'm In Your Mind Fuzz, the unanimous opinion according to the official King Gizz flow chart was to continue on to the album Nonagon Infinity, which expanded upon many of the ideas introduced in its predecessor. Needing little persuasion, I dove head-first into Nonagon Infinity, and as far as I can tell, I've never hit the bottom. I could write you an entire essay on just about any of the now twenty-six albums King Gizz had made, but from a conceptual perspective, Nonagon Infinity is one of the most innovative and groundbreaking pieces of music to be released in the 21st century. Come along with me as we take this adventure together; it's one I never get tired of trekking through.

My body's overworked
It's just the same I know
When can my body work
Cold static overload?
My body works I know
It's just the same I know
My only difference
Is robot influence
I'm up here for the weirdo swarm
I'm the door when you come for more
~ Robot Stop

What to expect:

When it comes to expectations for King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard, it's best to check them at the door. Any description of King Gizz isn't one-size-fits-all, given the expansive and frankly astounding range of genres that the band has covered. Each album is a new opportunity for this prolifically talented band to experiment with a different sound or concept. Craving acoustic indie-folk music to chill to? Try out Paper Mâché Dream Balloon. Looking for something heavier with thrash metal inspiration? Give Infest the Rats' Nest a listen. How about something more electronic and synthesized? Butterfly 3000 has you covered. If there were any group that truly caters to all tastes, King Gizz is certainly it. This brings us to Nonagon Infinity, an earlier album of theirs that houses a familiar garage rock sound the band commonly revisits, but with a few quirks to set it apart among other installments. From a musical standpoint, Nonagon Infinity is a high-energy thrill ride that comes strong out of the gate and seldomly pauses to catch its breath. While they have no true frontman, multi-instrumentalist Stu Mackenzie stands out among the group as a qualified candidate for this position. Providing all the vocals for the album, Stu gets the ball rolling on Robot Stop with his trademark 'woo's and shrill microtonal guitar riffs. "Amby" Kenny-Smith injects another healthy dose of charisma to the band's wacky persona, assuming responsibilities on the keyboards while occasionally ripping soulful harmonica solos during Robot Stop and Gamma Knife. Additional guitarists Joey Walker and "Cookie" Craig act more as a jack-of-all-trades, adding to the chaotic frenzy of strings while filling in on supporting synthesizer in tracks like Evil Death Roll. Rounded out by the resonant bass tones of Lucas Skinner and the clamorous drumming of Michael "Cav" Cavanagh, Nonagon Infinity is intentionally muddled with an incredibly low fidelity filter in an attempt to soften the sheer gusto and intensity of the overall performance. You'll notice early on that King Gizz has a noticeable aversion to common time signatures, a trait that not only persists throughout Nonagon Infinity, but indeed the greater collective of King Gizz albums. These guys aren't afraid to venture off into more complex territory, jamming out seldomly used beat patterns like 7/4 in Robot Stop, 9/4 in Big Fig Wasp, and 3/4 in Gamma Knife. Surprisingly, none of these grooves feel forced together, perfectly merged into a mathematic wonderland that carefully links each phrase. Speaking of which, Nonagon Infinity faithfully preserves each song transition to run into the next, effectively making each track a piece of a larger conglomerate suite. Colloquially known as the Nonagon suite, the five tracks between Robot Stop and Mr. Beat all seamlessly run together before a brief rest in the action, resuming between Evil Death Roll and Road Train. This formula allows the members of King Gizz to exhaust nearly every possibility of this parallel jam session, effortlessly switching between musical motifs that creatively differ, but share the same soul. Nonagon Infinity actually takes this concept a step further in a way that I've never seen any other album do: the transition between the closing track Road Train and the intro Robot Stop is also uninterrupted. In essence, this means that Nonagon Infinity has no real ending or beginning - it's a constant loop that persists within the confines of its microcosm. I'll elaborate further on that detail in the next section, because that choice is such a huge reason why I fell in love with this album to begin with. All I'll say is this: make sure you click repeat on when listening to Nonagon Infinity...and make sure you're paying attention. 

 

Twenty-six gears of petrol power
Keep on trucking hour by hour
One man is at the wheel
He's the dog at Satan's heel
Across the desert to the trees
Obliteration of the place
From the fire into the sea
Nonagon infinity is coming
~ Road Train

  

Why it's my favorite: 

In only three short years, I went from, "Who the hell is King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard?", to "Wow, King Gizz is the shit!". There's so many qualities that make Gizz such a loveable band, from their charming Aussie dialect to their palpable love for the material they create. Other selections such as the recent PetroDragonic Apocalypse and the aforementioned I'm In Your Mind Fuzz came very close to snagging this spot, but ultimately Nonagon Infinity is still King Gizz' magnum opus to me. Its reprisal of key verses tells a narrative through the music, not necessarily through its lyrics. There's even allusions to riffs that appeared in previous releases, specifically the shared hook between Robot Stop, Hot Water from I'm In Your Mind Fuzz, and Cold Cadaver off Paper Mâché Dream Balloon. The concept of interconnectivity, each song bearing relation and dependence to one another, an infinite loop that creates an overarching meta...that's the good stuff, man. It's a stroke of genius that I can't even begin to comprehend its engineering. It seems like only once every generation does a band come along to not only revolutionize the landscape of the music industry, but culturally impact a fanbase to the point of madness and infatuation. The best example of this phenomenon would be the Grateful Dead, a jam band that cultivated an entire subculture of nomadic fans, of which my mom and dad were both a part of. More recently, Phish fans have earned a reputation for their incredible passion and devotion for live shows. Nowadays, it really feels like King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard are gaining traction, setting them up to be the next epic band with an unwavering following. My first live experience of King Gizz came during their legendary Red Rocks residency in 2022, of which I was lucky to pick up a ticket to their newly added third show. I knew how good they were in the studio, but was nowhere prepared for the technical display they'd put on that night. I sat in pure awe watching them do their thing, silently losing my mind that I was in attendance for this spectacle. I've seen Gizz twice more since then at Red Rocks, and I'm scheduled to see them three more times this year when they return to the magical venue. Why am I so gung ho about seeing Gizz? Well...I haven't heard the Nonagon suite live yet. And I really, really want to. With a backlog as extensive as theirs, I can't be too shocked by that. But I'll take any chance I can get, even if it's to the tune of three straight concerts. Nonagon Infinity represents the beginning of this beautiful journey into an extended universe of music that is amazing in its own right, but completely changes how I perceive music. Each release is a continuation of the episodic format that King Gizz has so diligently plotted, treating fans to all kinds of secrets and easter eggs to uncover within. Take it from someone who was on the outside not long ago: you need to listen to King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard. They're on the cusp of something magnificent, and I wouldn't want you to be left behind in the eventual rapture.

Number 5 - Emerson, Lake & Palmer by Emerson, Lake, & Palmer

 Number 5: Emerson, Lake & Palmer by Emerson, Lake, & Palmer

Modern day Mozart

Release: November 20th, 1970
Genre: Progressive Rock
Favorite Tracks: Take A Pebble, Tank, The Three Fates

 

Where I heard it: 

If you would have asked me what my favorite album of all-time was a few years ago, today's entry would be my answer without hesitation. Emerson, Lake, & Palmer are a supergroup that came into my life at seemingly just the right time. I was first shown a snippet of their 21-minute magnum opus Tarkus (specifically beginning at 8:46) by my good friend Jack, which featured Keith Emerson on keyboards absolutely crushing a solo. We were gathered on my backyard deck on a late spring night in 2012, when Jack touted this soundbite as the greatest synth solo ever, a sentiment I had little disagreement toward. Soon after, I began independently researching Emerson, Lake, & Palmer, seeking a rebuttal that rivaled the synth solo of Tarkus. I checked Spotify in search of the group's origin point, and the first album listed was Trilogy. From the moment I hit play, I was mystified by the twists and turns taken in the album's musical direction. It probably took me two or three full listens before I ordered a vinyl of Trilogy for my budding record collection. As it turns out, I mistakenly took this to be the band's genesis. Spotify had categorized the group's eponymous debut as a 2012 release, due to a recent re-issue of the album. I felt duped and deceived by my most trusted musical authority, and I've held a grudge against Spotify for it since. Nonetheless, I felt lucky enough to experience such a prolific band like ELP for the first time - again. It felt as if I was digging up relics of the past, and boy did I find a gem with Emerson, Lake, & Palmer. In all my years of exploring the genre, I hadn't heard anything the likes of this. It was a go-to album for years, a point of conversation that I'd attempt to weasel into any musical discussion I could. I was astounded by just how relatively unknown this group was, and I was compelled to spread the gospel upon my unwilling social circles throughout the latter part of high school. This album was such an important part of my upbringing, but after extensive critical analysis for this list, I can admit that Emerson, Lake, & Palmer isn't the greatest thing I've ever heard. Hey, number five ain't too bad though!

Just take a pebble and cast it to the sea
Then watch the ripples that unfold into me
My face spills so gently into your eyes
Disturbing the waters of our lives
Shreds of our memories are lying on your grass
Wounded words of laughter are graveyards of the past
Protographs are grey and torn
Scattered in your fields
Letters of your memories are not real
~ Take a Pebble

What to expect:

Although they're far from household names, Keith Emerson, Greg Lake, and Carl Palmer are three of the most reputable musicians to ever combine their expertise. The group's inception came at a junction in the careers of both Keith Emerson and Greg Lake. Keith Emerson's sudden rise to prominence came from his involvement with a band called The Nice, who achieved modest success under Emerson's guidance. Vocalist Greg Lake had just wrapped up his brief tenure with a little band called King Crimson on some obscure album In the Court of the Crimson King. The Nice and King Crimson would often cross paths during touring slates, formally introducing Emerson and Lake through impromptu jam sessions before sets. When these two found themselves estranged from their original lineups in 1969, it was a no-brainer for them to collaborate on their next project together. Seeking a drummer to round out the group, the duo auditioned a handful of different prospects, including Mitch Mitchell of the Jimi Hendrix Experience. Ultimately, they convinced Carl Palmer of the band Atomic Rooster to leave his position and join the trio of Emerson, Lake, & Palmer. They tested the waters at several festivals across their native England, captivating audiences with an amalgamation of traditional prog rock and interpolations of of notable classical pieces. Two of these songs would be workshopped into The Barbarian and Take a Pebble, later to be included in their inaugural album. Yet, ELP wasn't finished composing one of the most innovative and artistic works of all-time. Each facet of the group contributes incredible performances for Emerson, Lake, & Palmer, but perhaps none more prominently so than Keith Emerson. With years of classical piano training under his belt, Emerson uses his immense wealth of musical knowledge to incorporate the works of composers like Béla Bartók, Leoš Janáček, and Johann Sebastian Bach into his own imaginative arrangements like Knife-Edge and The Barbarian that sound completely unlike their inspired source material. Emerson is no copycat, though; he's perfectly capable of preparing his own epic suite in The Three Fates, displaying a complete mastery of his instrument through unorthodox play methods like strumming the chords of his piano. While Emerson's songwriting tends to be heavily keyboard focused, Greg Lake uses his past credentials from King Crimson to draft tender serenades that lyrically ponder the mystery and fragility of life. Highlighted by emboldened bass tones, Lake's beautiful tonality in both his voice and instrument shine brightest during the 12-minute ballad Take a Pebble and Lucky Man, a song Lake wrote when he was twelve years old. Finally, Carl Palmer advocates for his right to be considered one of rock's greatest drummers, covering an array of percussion instruments like timpani and gong that culminates into what I believe to be the greatest drum solo of all-time: Tank. Palmer literally explores his entire setup in a jaw-dropping flurry of notes that is sure to entertain and delight any listener. Emerson, Lake, and Palmer thrive on the ability to put the spotlight on each of their members' prolific talents in subtle moments of harmonic fusion that flex the band's synchronicity. They've amassed quite a remarkable portfolio across their library, but there's just something so endearing about Emerson, Lake, & Palmer that I can't seem to dismiss. I love just about everything ELP has put out, but this album is still my instant recommendation when the opportunity to share it arises.

 He went to fight wars for his country and his king
Of his honor and his glory the people would sing
Ooh, what a lucky man he was
A bullet had found him
His blood ran as he cried
No money could save him
So he laid down and he died
~ Lucky Man

Why it's my favorite: 

My appreciation for classical music came as a direct result from my involvement in band. When we weren't sweating in the summer sun preparing our show for marching band, we were in the music room tirelessly practicing our winter repertoire to showcase at regional competitions. I had the privilege of playing some of the most emotionally gripping pieces throughout high school, some of which I got to play in grand destinations like Dallas. The stories music can tell are amazing, and none more so than in the classical genre. Emerson, Lake, & Palmer evokes that same joy I received from interpreting centuries-old arrangements during band class, with a synthesized modern twist that perfectly aligned with my musical tastes. Their songs expand upon the ideas of renowned compositions by giving them the full band treatment, reinventing riffs into all-out jams that revolutionized the British prog rock scene alongside legendary acts like Pink Floyd and Yes. Yet, ELP remains largely overlooked in talks about these very same bands. What a shame, considering ELP possesses one of the most talented pianists to ever stroke the keys in Keith Emerson. I adore each member of Emerson, Lake, & Palmer, but I have to admit my total enamor and admiration for the one and only Keith Emerson. As the mastermind behind the majority of the album, his intricate and involved solo work on each track is commonly the main attraction, if not an eyebrow-raising interlude that accompanies (and tries its best not to overshadow) the featured player. The duality between his extravagant acoustic symphonies and jazzy organ solos creates a fascinating dichotomy, merging the archaic and the cutting-edge into one groundbreaking product. In later installments, Emerson's synthesizer modulations open the door to a whole new range of oddities and possibilities. This guy made me very seriously consider learning piano so I could better comprehend his style. Needless to say, Keith Emerson is a giant musical influence of mine. In March of 2016, only a few years after I'd discovered ELP, I came across an article that publicized the death of Keith Emerson at age 71. Following this news, it was revealed that Emerson was deeply depressed after nerve damage in his wrists and hands hampered his playing ability, resulting in Emerson taking his own life. Thinking back, this was the first celebrity death that I remember feeling personally impacted by. The events surrounding Keith Emerson's tragic death contextualized for me how important the music I loved was to him. Emerson put his heart and soul into everything he made, and he wasn't satisfied with having that gift revoked. I sobbed that night while listening to the years of recordings Keith Emerson provided us to remember him by. Every time I hear this album, I can't help but be reminded of the passion and devotion that Emerson poured into every second. It transports me back to that wide-eyed wonder I had when first hearing this album, and the grievous mourning I had when learning of Keith Emerson's passing. There will never be another like him. Perhaps that's why Emerson, Lake, & Palmer is so special to me. Hearing his spirit flow through the music is what keeps him alive, and that's something I'll continue to do for as long as I live. Rest in peace, Keith.

Number 6 - The Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd

 Number 6: The Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd

Total eclipse of the art

Release: March 1st, 1973
Genre: Progressive Rock
Favorite Tracks: The Great Gig in the Sky, Us and Them, Money

 

Where I heard it: 

Asking someone about their first time hearing The Dark Side of the Moon is like asking where they were on 9/11: everybody remembers. This album serves as a rite of passage for prog newcomers and aspiring psychonauts alike, a momentous experience that has transfixed and delighted audiences for decades going strong. It's been around long enough for people to famously speculate a farfetched conspiracy theory revolving around moments of synchronicity between the album and The Wizard of Oz. The Dark Side of the Moon has transcended popular culture and achieved its own musical meta among the industry. I certainly caught wind of Dark Side's branding well before I heard anything from Pink Floyd, donning the iconic cover art of light refracting through a prism. The first time I heard the name Pink Floyd was at the recommendation of my seventh grade teacher, as they were one of her favorite bands. At that time, I was fully entrenched in exploring the classic rock genre, but I never quite made it past the surface when it came to prog rock until I was a bit older. Coincidentally, my introduction to Dark Side of the Moon actually occurred only a few hours after a story I have previously recounted during my entry for Electric Ladyland. To bring you up to speed: I was home alone one spring weekend, belligerently baked after a planned afternoon of reefer and relaxation. I had bought two footlong Subway sandwiches for my lunch and dinner, but I was so high that I ate both in one sitting and greened out on my couch. After awakening disoriented and confused from a three hour nap, I begrudgingly resumed my checklist for the night's activities: finally give The Dark Side of the Moon a proper run-through in all its glory, under the perfect set of circumstances. I filed through my stepdad's bulky vinyl library, placed the record onto the phonograph, turned on my stepdad's state-of-the-art sound system, and sat back on the couch. Frankly, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I remember staring up at the popcorn ceiling of my living room in the dim light of the bar lamps as On the Run played through the speakers, and it made me question whether or not the music I was listening to was actually real or just part of my hallucinations. In a little under forty-five minutes, everything I had ever heard about Pink Floyd and The Dark Side of the Moon finally clicked. I'm pretty sure there were tears in my eyes as the needle dragged toward the center following the album's conclusion Eclipse. It's a precious musical memory that I may never live to replicate, and it's about time I pay my respects.

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine
Staying home to watch the rain
And you are young and life is long
And there is time to kill today
And then one day you find
Ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run
You missed the starting gun
~ Time

What to expect:

The timeline of Pink Floyd's expansive history can be daunting to follow, but classifying each period into a few distinct eras helps distinguish the gradual evolution of the band's sound. After original frontman Syd Barrett was replaced by David Gilmour following the 1967 debut The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, Pink Floyd would establish their core lineup of Roger Waters on bass, Richard Wright on keyboards, and Nick Mason on drums, recording a majority of their discography with this personnel. Right off the bat, Pink Floyd established their signature brand of experimental rock and psychedelia with ethereal, mysterious songwriting overlaid upon distant, twangy guitar tones. This formula helped the band garner a cult following during the latter part of the 60's and start of the 70's, winning over listeners with several deep cut classics like Atom Heart Mother and Meddle. While these albums are essential to the Pink Floyd library, their arrangements are notably more withdrawn in comparison to more popular works. There do exist glaring exceptions, such as the monolithic epic Echoes off Meddle, or the long-winded Several Species of Small Fury Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with a Pict from Ummagumma, but they acted within a vacuum of otherwise tame material. 1973 would mark the beginning of Pink Floyd's next great epoch, lead by their mainstream breakthrough The Dark Side of the Moon. Heavily inspired by the oversight of then-EMI sound engineer Alan Parsons, he was responsible for introducing the band to the most cutting-edge synthesizer technology available on the market at the time. With new toys to play with, Richard Wright's traditional organ style took a giant leap forward into the future, creating some of the most awe-inspiring augmentations with his newfound digitation. Altogether, The Dark Side of the Moon displays dramatic improvement in its production, given the numerous technological advancements. Cross-fading, speaker oscillation, and seamless song transitions are only a few tools the band utilizes to manufacture a thorough, immersive, and emotional adventure. While this album is an industrial marvel of music, its thematically centralized songwriting by Roger Waters is ultimately seen as the catalyst for its success and popularity. In contrast to the superfluous philosophical musings of previous projects, The Dark Side of the Moon takes a down-to-Earth approach to its conceptual narrative. Its lyrics reflect a deep contempt of the mortal coil of life, including the rapid and steadfast passage of the years in Time or human obsession with greed and wealth in Money. Its narrative of being driven into insanity is best exemplified in songs like the nightmarish soundscape On the Run or the tender lullaby Brain Damage. Although these issues are never truly resolved, there's a sense of comfort and company in the end that stems from the shared psychosis of existence we all experience. The Dark Side of the Moon unties humanity together, linked by our sorrows and broken dreams of a capitalist-fueled society. It's a grim and longingly optimistic perspective, but it's one of the most gripping concepts I've ever heard from a piece of music. Beyond its allegories, The Dark Side of the Moon has withstood the test of time, recognized for its achievements throughout history. It might be a no-brainer of a choice for this list, but its inclusion requires no justification.

And all you create
And all you destroy
And all that you do
And all that you say
And all that you eat
And everyone you meet
And all that you slight
And everyone you fight
And all that is now
And all that is gone
And all that's to come
And everything under the sun is in tune
But the sun is eclipsed by the moon
~ Eclipse

Why it's my favorite: 

I mean...I don't have to explain to you why The Dark Side of the Moon is this high on the list, right? It's the album. One out of every five people in the United States owned this record. It's colloquially accepted as one of the finest pieces of music across any genre to ever be released. Honestly, hyping up this album feels a lot like beating a dead horse, but I'm gonna ride this one all the way to the races. There's a reason why so many people are adamant about The Dark Side of the Moon being prerequisite material for any music lover: it displays complete mastery of conceptual progression and thematic storytelling in an age where that sort of thing was uncommon. Speak to Me is the perfect opener for the album, briefly foreshadowing climactic segments of the album like the ticking clocks of Time, the cash register rings of Money, the maniacal giggles of Brain Damage, and the wails of The Great Gig in the Sky. The way Pink Floyd recycles and reprises notable riffs to develop motifs throughout the album is nothing short of theatrical, and it pays off by the end with a satisfying thoroughness that vindicates the arduous journey. I'm ashamed to admit how choked up I get by the time Eclipse starts playing. I feel like I've made it to the end of something meaningful. Each side of the record is its own musical suite, delivering an uninterrupted stream of music that washes over you so deeply, it's jarring to emerge back on the surface. As the last fleeting harmonies resonate on the album, I find myself not wanting it to end in selfish indulgence. Perhaps that's what makes The Dark Side of the Moon so beautiful; it offers plenty, but leaves you wanting more. I've had so many intimate moments in other albums like Wish You Were Here and The Wall, but none so profound as my memories of The Dark Side of the Moon. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't convince myself by the submission of this entry that there was any better Pink Floyd album than this one. It's special not just to me, but to generations of fans that passed down this unbelievable work of art. There's a aura of exclusivity that surrounds The Dark Side of the Moon, and the only terms of entry are to press play. I'll put it as simply as possible: if you haven't heard The Dark Side of the Moon...you're missing out.

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.