1. Free Again
Gene Clark, man. This one's a ghost from '68, a whisper of what could've been, finally seeing the light. It's got that Byrdsian melancholia but stripped back, leaning into a country-rock desolation. And you can hear the blues in his voice, a weary soul just trying to shake off the dust. A foundational piece for anyone tracing the roots of that lonesome sound.
2. The Futuristic Sounds Of Sun Ra (Remastered)
Before the full Arkestra madness, there was this, a glimpse into Sun Ra's cosmic blueprint. This remastered version really brings out the bebop roots twisted into something entirely alien. You get those early electronic touches, a real dive into what he called "outer space music." And it still sounds like nothing else, a true prophet's vision.
3. More of The Monkees (Deluxe Edition)
Yeah, I know, The Monkees. But this deluxe edition, it shows the sheer craft. It’s Brill Building pop, sure, but with a surprising kick. You hear the studio wizardry, the early rock energy that defined a generation, even if it was manufactured. And for all the purist scorn, it had hooks that burrowed deep. It’s got a certain charm, you gotta admit.
4. Silver Apples
This ain't just electronic music; it's a primal hum. From '68, but it sounds like tomorrow. Simeon Coxe, with his homemade oscillators and drums, laid down a blueprint for minimalism and drone that still reverberates. It’s got that psychedelic edge, but also a stark, almost industrial pulse. And it still cuts through the noise like a serrated blade.
5. Free Your Mind... And Your Ass Will Follow
Funkadelic, raw and unhinged. This is where the soul got heavy, where the blues went psychedelic. George Clinton and the crew just tore it up, blending garage rock grit with that deep, greasy funk. It’s a rebellion, a declaration, and it kicks like a mule. And you feel that raw energy, that push against the establishment, right in your gut.
6. Faust IV (Deluxe Edition)
Krautrock at its most deliberate and sprawling. This deluxe edition lets you really dig into their sonic architecture. It’s got that motorik pulse, but also these vast, echoing soundscapes. You hear the experimentation that would inform post-punk, the industrial leanings. It’s a journey, man, not just a collection of songs. And it’s still kinda unsettling.
7. Suicide (2019 - Remaster)
This 2019 remaster brings a chilling clarity to a foundational slab of urban dread. Alan Vega’s primal yelp over Martin Rev’s stark, electronic pulses. It’s proto-punk, it’s industrial, it’s pure New York '77. And it was confrontational, minimalist, stripping rock 'n' roll down to its skeletal, vibrating core. Still sounds dangerous.
8. Dub Housing
Pere Ubu, man, they were always marching to their own beat. This is Cleveland post-punk, angular and art-damaged, but with a strange, almost soulful heart. David Thomas’s vocals are pure outsider art, and the band builds these intricate, jarring soundscapes. And it’s got that industrial feel, a gritty urban landscape translated into sound.
9. 20 Jazz Funk Greats (Remastered)
Throbbing Gristle. The title’s a joke, but the music ain't. This remastered version just makes the abrasive textures even clearer. It’s industrial music, pure and uncompromising, a cold, calculated assault on convention. And it’s got that post-punk bleakness, but taken to its absolute extreme. Still unsettling, still essential.
10. Slates
The Fall, always the Fall. This EP, it’s got that classic repetitive drone, Mark E. Smith's sardonic bark just cutting through the noise. It’s post-punk at its most insistent, its most angular. And you can hear the roots of a thousand bands who tried to emulate that rhythmic trance. Still sharp, still vital.
11. The Crossing
Big Country, they carved out a unique space in the early 80s. That guitar sound, man, it was like bagpipes filtered through an electric current, truly distinctive. It took the energy of post-punk and gave it a sweeping, almost Celtic anthemic feel. And it still holds up, a powerful statement that wasn't quite new wave, not quite rock.
