The album sounds beamed in from an earlier decade, but it runs deeper than nostalgia.
Much of Trampin’ finds Smith calling for peace.
On the album, it doesn’t sound like Prince is really trying to reach for the self-inflated magnitude the label requires.
Throughout, the direct segues between songs turn Summer’s career into a luscious DJ set.
For all the band knew, these tunes could’ve been beamed into Brian’s brain from another planet.
Perhaps one recording experience like Rumours, as sweet as the end result was, is all we should wish upon anyone.
U2’s Pop found Bono turning his usual political protest rock toward God, as well as his own personal demons.
Listening to the album is akin to searching for a diamond in the rough.
Snow Patrol has brushed off the softness of their Belle and Sebastian-style past for Final Straw, their major label debut.
Vanessa Daou and Erica Jong: a match made in a labyrinthine vagina that’s as juicy and welcoming as it is intimidating and demanding.
If the rapturous radio response to the album’s first single “C’mon, C’mon” is any indication, bulging bags of cash may be in the cards.
The newly restructured Arista Records is being ushered in with a bang.
The album features a slew of the gooey, structureless sex ballads that have become Janet’s staple.
Fly or Die is pretty damn grounded.
If there was ever a time for George Michael to get his groove back, it’s now.
Eamon manages to salvage a mess with some sort of politically incorrect, tongue-partly-in-cheek charisma.
Finally Woken is a mix of silky pop-friendly hooks, cinematic string samples, and sturdy hip-hop beats.
The Disconnection is the kind of striking rock document that only comes once in a great while.
The album is a horny medley of ’80s dance influences and libidinous come-hither sentiments that would make Prince proud.
Quaye hits his best stride on reggae/dub gems like “Pearls of Wisdom” and “Face to Face,” where he sounds more like Horace Andy than Ben Harper.
America’s Sweetheart is practically unlistenable, but that’s not to say it isn’t a fascinating mess.