100 Albums, 100 Words (60-51)

60. Northern State – Dying In Stereo (2003)

This album works because Hesta Prynn, Guinea Love (Spero), and DJ Sprout are master signifiers, verbally cutting down men with verbal acumen. Case in point: “like Derek Jeter, I’m-a make you stop short.” Here Hesta Prynn is signifying on other MCs who think they’re dope; most MCs are male, thus she is spittin’ it at men. Derek Jeter, short stop of the New York Yankees, is a symbol of masculinity. Here she flips the position he plays into “stop short,” simultaneously disrupting Jeter’s masculine power and harvesting it for her own use in signifiying on other (mostly male) MCs. Boo-yah!

59. Saturday Night Fever (1977)

This album could be titled Bee Gees Greatest Hits, Plus. As great as the Bee Gees songs are, both the infinitely popular “Stayin’ Alive” and the actually good “You Should Be Dancing,” the real gems are in that plus half of the equation. Both classically-inspired instrumentals are good, but “Fifth of Beethoven” stands as one of the best instrumentals ever. “Open Sesame” is perhaps the best track Kool & the Gang ever recorded; who can resist the “genie of sound”? Sure, maybe they didn’t need to include two versions of “More Than A Woman,” but this “Disco Inferno” still burns.

58. Black Sabbath – Paranoid (1970)

Ozzy’s crowning achievement, Paranoid is both wicked and good. Case in point: “War Pigs/Luke’s Wall.” “Luke’s Wall” is the definition of instrumental wickedness as Tony Iommi’s guitar swirls around and around. “War Pigs,” the other half of the song, is a righteous denunciation of war for profit. Denouncing the capitalist pigs of the Military Industrial Complex, it is heavy metal’s “Masters of War.” In addition to “War Pigs,” “Iron Man” and “Paranoid” feature the catchiest riffs. “Faeries Wear Boots” is one of the quirkiest titles for one of the coolest songs. Paranoid deserves its spot as a heavy metal landmark.

57. Nirvana – Nevermind (1991)

In middle school, everyone wore flannel. Granted, at my school that was as much indebted to the rise of West Coast gangstas as to grunge, but, really, are they that different? Both attempt to authenticate the voice of a disgruntled youth culture. Regardless, I wanted blue-and-black plaid to rock with my canvas K-Swiss. What my mom bought me was a lavender-and-green plaid Ralph Lauren. You can’t get street cred in that, and it’s a bit too bourgeois for Cobain. Now, more working class than thug, I still want the black and blue, if only to fulfill my manufactured proletarian fantasy.

56. Led Zeppelin – Led Zeppelin II (1969)

The “Stairway to Heaven” is like the stairway up the tower of Babel – it leads to inflated pride for seventies’ rock enthusiasts, but the guitar playing is so intricate and beautiful on “Ramble On” that it makes one forgive the references to Lord of the Rings. “Ramble,” along with “Thank You” and “What Is and What Never Should Be,” make this one of the most lushly gorgeous albums ever. “Whole Lotta Love” and “Heartbreaker” hang on some great riffs and are as experimentally melodic as metal can get. Meanwhile, “Living Loving Maid” cleans house in the straight out rocking category.

55. Guns’N’Roses – Appetite For Destruction (1987)

James Brown writes a song about traveling from city to city on tour; Ernest & Julio Gallo name a bum wine after it, on which Axl Rose gets shitfaced and writes the hardest-rocking tribute to alcoholism ever. The Gallo brothers had the gall to demand payment from G’n’R, but I can almost guarantee they never paid James Brown. Along with the obvious hits, “Mr. Brownstone,” “Out Ta Get Me,” “Think About You,” (featuring Izzy Stradlin’s underrated songwriting) and “Rocket Queen” help to ensure this album’s lasting appeal. You can almost hear the grit of hard living on the Sunset Strip.

54. Bob Dylan – John Wesley Harding (1967)

This album must have sounded like a wet noodle lashing against the monstrous wall of psychedelia when it was released, but its quiet, understated strength made it determined to stand, and it killed psychedelia in one decisive blow. From its rustic matte cover to its simple acoustic strums, John Wesley Harding exudes rootsiness, and is the granddaddy of alternative country. But there’s more going on here, too. The album’s cryptic vignettes, littered as they are with outlaws, retell Biblical tales within the context of the Old West. Dylan records his first piano-based masterpiece here too with the majestic “Dear Landlord.”

53. Outkast – Stankonia (2000)

Stankonia, on the strength of “Ms. Jackson,” is almost the great sensitive male hip-hop album that it probably would have been had Andre 3000 gone it alone, but, even with the inclusion of “Gangsta Shit,” this album comes close to the mark. Big Boi’s contributions are certainly no detriment either, especially on the delightful “We Luv Deez Hoez.” “Gasoline Dreams” remains a bluntly scathing commentary on the glut of white (read: corporate) america (sorry, Marshall, but your song can’t compare). The album does leave one mystery unsolved though: just what are they saying at the end of “Bombs Over Baghdad?”

52. Elvis Costello – Imperial Bedroom (1982)

Following Nellie McKay’s Get Away From Me, this is the second Geoff Emerick production on this list, and perhaps the more Sgt. Pepperesque of the two. Sonically, it resembles the Beatles’ golden period with tinges of Tin Pan Alley. Thematically, the album deals with just what the title suggests, imperialism in the bedroom. This takes shape in a number of forms from incest to molestation to good old-fashioned domestic abuse. Costello masterfully explores the social implications and consequences of these grim practices with an emotional sensitivity that is bared out by a keen focus on the details of paralyzed hearts.

51. Nellie McKay – Pretty Little Head (2006)

It is hard to follow up perfection with brilliance, but that is exactly what Nellie McKay did with Pretty Little Head. Mostly, the album is very good, particularly on tracks like “Columbia Is Bleeding” and “The Big One.” “Pounce” is a personal favorite, especially with its guilty pleasure “meow” chorus. The album buoys itself with many short songs; had it cut off the screamed outro and, possibly, the intro of “Mama and Me” then it would be much more accessible. Likewise, the slurred vocal of “Pink Chandelier” kept it from reaching its full potential. Of course, perfection rarely strikes twice.