1. Mwandishi
This isn't your grandfather's jazz; Hancock, already a master, dove headfirst into electrified frontiers here. The Rhodes, the ARP synthesizers, the intricate polyrhythms—it's a dense, almost psychedelic tapestry. It’s fusion, yes, but with a spiritual depth that few could touch, recorded with a warmth and presence only multi-track analog tape could properly render. A truly intellectual journey.
2. We're Going on a Yeti Hunt
This one's an oddity, isn't it? A peculiar blend of angular guitar work and a vocalist who sounds like he's narrating a particularly vivid fever dream. The production feels deliberately stark, almost skeletal, yet there's a definite tension built through those unusual rhythmic shifts. It's the kind of art-rock curio that the bigger labels wouldn't touch, but which resonated deeply with a certain fringe.
3. In the Sign of Evil
Before thrash became a stadium spectacle, there was this primal, unholy racket. Sodom's early '84 statement is a raw, unpolished assault, brimming with a genuine menace that later, more polished efforts often missed. The drums are a thunderous clatter, the guitars a buzzsaw, and the vocals—pure, guttural venom. It's the sound of aggression, captured on tape with zero compromise.
4. The Affectionate Punch
Bill MacKenzie's voice alone was an instrument of exquisite drama, twisting phrases with an almost operatic sensibility. Here, it’s paired with angular, post-punk guitar lines and a rhythm section that knew how to both drive and subtly subvert. It’s art-rock, certainly, but with a pop hook sensibility buried deep in its eccentricities. A triumph of the era's adventurous spirit, recorded with impeccable clarity.
5. Christmas Mischief
Ah, the holiday novelty record. This one, however, transcends mere kitsch with its surprisingly tight boogie-funk bassline and those impossibly cheerful synth melodies. It's a saccharine confection, yes, but precisely engineered for maximum early-80s dancefloor cheer. The gated reverb on the drums is a dead giveaway; a prime example of analog studio wizardry attempting—and succeeding—at festive sonic escapism.
6. Alleys Of Your Mind
Before it had a name, this was the sound of the future echoing from Detroit. Juan Atkins and Richard Davis crafted something truly revolutionary here. Sparse, clinical, yet utterly hypnotic, those Roland TR-808 patterns paired with the pulsing analog synthesizers laid the groundwork for an entire genre. It’s pure machine soul, recorded with a starkness that only amplifies its groundbreaking vision.
7. The First Family of Soul: The Best of The Five Stairsteps
This collection showcases the undeniable vocal prowess and exquisite arrangements that defined the Five Stairsteps. Their harmonies are simply sublime, often layered over lush, string-laden productions that only analog studios could truly capture. It’s classic, heartfelt soul music, brimming with a warmth and organic feel that simply can't be replicated digitally. Every track is a masterclass in emotional delivery.
8. The Serpent's Egg (Remastered)
Dead Can Dance always occupied a unique, ethereal space, and "The Serpent's Egg" is perhaps their most potent distillation. Lisa Gerrard's voice, a force of nature, weaves through these meticulously crafted sonic landscapes. It’s darkwave, certainly, but infused with ancient, almost liturgical gravity. The production, dense yet spacious, relies heavily on natural reverb and a masterful blend of acoustic and synthesized textures.
9. Season's Speedings from Cars Land: Holiday Songs from Mater & Luigi
One might dismiss this as mere commercial fluff, but consider the audacity! A holiday record, presumably from animated vehicles? The early-80s certainly had its share of bizarre novelty efforts, and this one, hypothetically, would fit right in. Imagine the rudimentary synth horns, the saccharine vocal effects, the relentless cheer. A curious artifact of a time when any premise, no matter how absurd, could become a record.
10. GL///TCHES
Before "glitch" was a digital aesthetic, there were artists pushing analog boundaries to create sonic disruption. This hypothetical track would be a prime example: tape loops stretched to breaking point, circuit-bent synthesizers spitting out controlled chaos, and a rhythmic underpinning that feels both mechanical and utterly unstable. It's industrial noise as art, a raw, uncompromising exploration of sound’s outer limits.
