now playing: White Wizzard - Over the Top
I've been meaning to write this post for quite some time, and I think it's something every music fan does eventually. No matter how cliché it is, it's always a fun exercise to see what music you really value enough to bring with you if you're stuck on a desert island—or, in this day and age, a horrible oppressive wasteland where music is forbidden and the horrible dictator Führer King No Fun declares all CDs contraband and you spend the rest of your days sneaking a listen to a few seconds of a song whenever the overseers in the plutonium mines change shifts. Now that I think about it, that would make an awesome concept album.
To qualify for this list, an album must fit three criteria: 1) I must be able to listen to it all the way through and not once feel compelled to hit the skip button; 2) I must have some sort of emotional or personal connection to the album—it has to mean something; 3) I must be in absolutely no danger of burning out on the album after listening to it for the fiftieth time that day. Without further ado, here are the five albums I would bring with me into a sonicbane wasteland. (Have you heard my new band, Sonicbane Wasteland?)
05) Fall Out Boy's Folie à Deux (2008)
 | As you may remember from my review of Folie à Deux, I had nothing but good things to say about this album. A year and change later, all those things still stand up; in fact, I recently re-listened to the album after forgetting it for a little while and it was like the first time I'd ever heard it all over again. Every track hits perfectly and graphs a fantastic contour throughout the entire album. The album, for me, marks the point where I stopped feeling sorry for myself and started following my dreams and writing music as I've always wanted to do. "The (Shipped) Gold Standard" remains my favorite song to this day for that reason. The chorus, "You can only blame your problems on the world for so long / Before it all becomes the same old song", was the kick in the ass I needed to finally do something. And aside from all that, it's just a solid, singable, danceable, rockable album. |
04) Boston's Boston (1976)
 | Now, I live in Boston, so I might be a little biased in putting this album on my list, but you take a listen to "Something About You" and tell me it's not the greatest classic rock song you've ever heard. And I will believe you, because there are better ones out there, but there are not many. Before I listened to this album, I was certainly aware of Boston's existence, but I never really went out of my way to listen to them. I'm infinitely glad I did, because this album rekindled my interest in classic rock and helped shape my own aspirations for the kind of music I wanted to make. The album starts high and keeps rising (as any good mixtape should, if Barney Stinson tells me right), only coming down at the end in a gradual fade on "Let Me Take You Home Tonight", and even that is fast-paced and energetic. The guitar solos, the tones of all the instruments, Brad Delp's amazing voice... do I really have to go on? |
03) Jack Off Jill's Clear Hearts Grey Flowers (2000)
 | If it's emotional response you want, it doesn't get much more intense than this album. I first found out about Jack Off Jill from a few of my online friends who were much more musically-savvy than I. This was in late 2006/early 2007, when I was going through a pretty turbulent time in my college career: Romantic issues, fights with friends, crises of existence—you know, all that fun stuff. So hearing songs like "Nazi Halo" and the title track more or less made my angsty little day. The lead singer, Jessicka, delivered these lyrics with such vindication and pure rage that it was all I could do not to shout along whenever I listened to it. Jessicka's doing quite well for herself fronting Scarling these days, but nothing she ever does will top Clear Hearts for me. It's the rawest, most brutal emotional outlet I have ever heard from any musician. It's musical catharsis, opening quietly and ending with panting, angry breaths. You just feel better after listening to this album. Emotionally exhausted, but better. |
02) Poe's Haunted (2000)
 | This is a tough album to swallow. There's rock, there's merengue, there's funk, noise, happiness, sorrow, vindication, anger, love, love, so much love. I've been listening to it for seven years and I'm still discovering new things. On the surface, it's about the relationship between Poe and her father, Tad Danielewski, aided by audio diaries left by her father spanning back to the day she was born. "If You Were Here", the significance of which should be self-explanatory, is one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard and one of the only ones that can make me cry no matter what. At the same time, the album is a companion piece to Mark Z. Danielewski's avant-garde horror novel House of Leaves. The lyrics interlock with events and characters in the novel; even the thematic elements, such as echoes, show up. Haunted is remarkably complex and highbrow while still being accessible and catchy to the uneducated listener. I didn't even know about the House of Leaves connection until my second year of listening. There's always more to find, which is how I know I'm never going to burn out on this album. |
01) Queensrÿche's Operation: Mindcrime (1988)
 | Here it is: The album that sparked my interest in metal and my love affair with concept albums. I call Operation: Mindcrime the greatest metal album in existence and one of the best of all time. The story remains open to interpretation 22 years after its release, and the ideals of revolution and change in times of political turmoil will hold strong forever. A friend of mine gave me this album in 2004 and not six months later, I saw Queensrÿche in concert. It was my first real metal show and one of the best shows of my life. So yes, as you might be able to tell, I'm rather a fan of the album. It sparked my own musical renaissance, the beginning of an era where I stopped listening to what the radio told me to and started looking for my own music on my own time. I only wish Queensrÿche's other albums were as good. Empire has some decent tracks, yeah, but after Mindcrime, the band really fell from grace. I wish they hadn't put out Operation: Mindcrime II, even if they did get Dio to do guest vocals. Some stories don't need an end. |
Well, there you have it. These are only the ones that made the list, but it was tough narrowing it down to five. Here's a few honorable mentions that missed out for one reason or another.
 | Coheed and Cambria's In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3 (2003) Why not? While a great concept album, IKSSE:3 lacks the emotional significance a desert island album needs. I still end up skipping a few tracks here and there, too. |  | Sonata Arctica's Silence (2001) Why not? A fantastic album, like I said, but I burn out on it way too easily, which is unfortunate considering Sonata's my favorite band and all. |
 | Reel Big Fish's Cheer Up! (2002) Why not? The ska and rock songs are great, but "Sayonara Senorita" and "Boss DJ" never clicked with me. Still a very fun album, but possibly a bit too bold for me. |  | The Sounds' Dying to Say This to You (2006) Why not? Too much new wave. It's awesome, but it's overwhelming by the end. There's only so much synth I can take. Maja Ivarsson is so hot, though. |
 | Blue Öyster Cult's Fire of Unknown Origin (1981) Why not? I love me some BÖC, but the middle of this album is pretty unimpressive. I tend to skip from "Veteran of the Psychic Wars" straight to "After Dark" and shut it off after "Joan Crawford". |  | Lady Gaga's The Fame Mons†er (2009) Why not? Because I have shame. |
Halestorm, a semi-local band (from York, PA), came out with their self-titled debut in April of last year. When describing this album, I've often joked that it's eleven songs about having sex with the frontwoman, Lzzy Hale. That's not entirely fair; I'm pretty sure "Familiar Taste of Poison" is not, in fact, about shacking up with her. The other ten, though? Completely. It's this sort of ballsiness (ovarishness?) that I've found lacking in rock music as of late. With songs about exhibitionism, deflowering virgins, strictly sexual relationships, prostitution, and all manner of other euphemisms for the same basic concept, Halestorm takes the expectations of female-fronted rock music, ties them down to the bed, and makes like Kathy Bates in Misery all over them. It's refreshingly edgy without coming off as trying too hard.