Plenty of albums are overrated. Sweetheart of the Rodeo, for example. Fine album, yes. But any student of country music sees that it was mainly homage, and fairly studied homage at that. Songs of the genre were done better, earlier.
Most of Nirvana is overpraised as well. A lot of the Stones 70s stuff is a blur of filler. Clapton, too, when he wasn't ripping off J.J. Cale, was an amazing guitar player spinning his wheels on mediocre material. And, nearly 35 years on, who can stomach both platters of London Calling? There is one great album on there.
But what about those albums that slip through the cracks, get little to no attention, or are even dismissed outright as second-rate efforts? Maybe they carry a minor hit or two, but they quickly go into the clearance bin. Here are five to consider on your next spin through the record shop (hip place that it is now) that are worth digging into:
5. ELO, Time. Coming during that 80s period when many 70s monster bands were faltering, this album went almost unnoticed -- aside from "Hold on Tight," a decent hit single, but hardly the best song on the album. ("Twilight," for example, is among their best songs.) Moreover, it is a concept album whose theme is both interesting and not necessarily intrusive. You can enjoy the album with or without the concept in mind.
4. Freedy Johnston, This Perfect World. I nearly called the major crimes unit when Rolling Stone (more abysmal year after year) didn't include this in its top 500 albums. A gem of an album, without a shred of filler, each song a glistening facet of tainted pleasure ("Delores"), bleak heartbreak ("Across the Avenue"), or mysterious pain ("Evie's Tears"). In a just world, Freedy would be walking next to Dylan and people would nod sagely.
3. Sugar, Copper Blue. Suddenly, back in the early 90s, one of the founding fathers of hardcore started writing impeccably catchy, melodic pop music. The guitars were still grinding, the beat still heavy, but the songs bristled with hooks like a square foot of velcro. "The Act We Act" is one of the great openers, and "If I Can't Change Your Mind" is a mini-masterpiece, the way good pop should be.
2. Jayhawks, Rainy Day Music. Beyond ignored, this album is treated dismissively. But it's the best thing they ever did. There's not a false note on the album, and several of the songs, like "Tailspin" and "Madman," are as good as the genre itself ever got. Why should bands like Whiskeytown and Uncle Tupelo hog all the praise? Jayhawks were thoughtful alt-country before the label even existed, and they prove it here.
1. Neil Finn, Try Whistling This. Neil Finn suffers critical neglect the way Paul McCartney does. Most of his stuff sounds so damn good, but critics are always swooning after the bad boy whose output is objectively crap (look out, Lennon!) and dismissing those "easy" melodies as silly. But easy as the melodies may come from his brain, this album is so deep in songcraft, it seems like a masterclass -- and very little of it is "sweet" in the way Crowded House often was. From a banging workout like "Loose Tongue" to the trip-hop tinged "Sinner" to the meditative "Faster Than Light," this is an adventurous, exploratory album that would have been on every critic's best-of list -- if it had been released by a bad boy.
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