1. Gospel Train (Expanded Edition)
Sister Rosetta Tharpe, she just tore it up, didn't she? This expanded edition finally gives her the space she deserved, showcasing how she fused spiritual fervor with an electric guitar swagger that was pure, unadulterated rock 'n' roll before anyone even coined the term. Her voice, a force of nature, backed by those raw, driving rhythms, laid down a blueprint. It's the sound of the spirit hitting the street, a holy shout transforming into a visceral, secular tremor. Essential, truly.
2. More Moondog / The Story Of Moondog
Moondog, the Viking of Sixth Avenue, he was writing tomorrow's music yesterday, right there on the sidewalk. These two records, "More Moondog" and "The Story of Moondog," they capture the essence of a genius who built his own rhythmic systems. It’s percussive minimalism, almost like a tribal bebop, but with a classical precision that's just uncanny. He didn't follow rules; he made them up, then proved they worked. This isn't just music; it's a philosophy set to a beat.
3. Rumble / The Swag
Link Wray, man, he invented distortion with "Rumble." It was so primal, so menacing, they banned it from the airwaves, thinking it'd incite riots. This single, paired with "The Swag," just rips. It’s gut-level rock 'n' roll, stripped down to its bare, snarling essence. That guitar tone, like a switchblade scraping asphalt, set the stage for every garage band, every punk rocker who ever wanted to shake things up without caring about polish. Pure, unadulterated menace.
4. Here Are the Sonics
The Sonics, from Tacoma, Washington, they didn't just play rock 'n' roll; they detonated it. "Here Are the Sonics" is a blueprint for every snot-nosed kid who ever picked up a guitar and screamed. It's raw, unhinged garage punk, before punk even knew what it was. That sax wailing like a banshee, Gerry Roslie's voice tearing through the speakers, and drums that hit like an industrial press. This ain't pretty; it's pure, untamed sonic aggression. A foundational racket.
5. The Presidents of The United States of America: Ten Year Super Bonus Special Anniversary Edition
Now, these Presidents, they showed up a bit later, but their "Ten Year Super Bonus Special Anniversary Edition" reminds you that rebellion isn't just about noise; it's about stripping things down. Two strings on the bass, three on the guitar, and hooks that burrowed into your brain like some kind of pop-art industrial drill. It’s playful, sure, but the minimalist approach to instrumentation, that's a direct lineage from early rock's directness, a post-punk rejection of excess. Raw, catchy, and smarter than it let on.
6. Philosophy of the World
The Shaggs, "Philosophy of the World." This record, it’s a beautiful mess. Often dismissed as just "bad," but that's missing the point entirely. It's outsider art in its purest form, a document of unadulterated vision untainted by industry polish or conventional wisdom. The rhythms are off-kilter, the melodies childlike, but there's an undeniable, almost spiritual purity to its awkward charm. It’s what happens when you completely ignore the rulebook because you didn't even know it existed. A true original.
7. Hosianna Mantra
Popol Vuh's "Hosianna Mantra" isn't just music; it's an invocation. Florian Fricke and Daniel Fichelscher crafted something profoundly spiritual, a shimmering, almost cosmic krautrock mass. The early synth textures, the ethereal vocals, the acoustic instrumentation — it all weaves together into this hypnotic, devotional soundscape. It's minimalist in its intention but epic in its emotional reach, pushing past traditional rock structures into a realm of pure, atmospheric transcendence. A genuine journey for the inner ear.
8. La Düsseldorf
La Düsseldorf, the self-titled debut, it's a pure shot of motorik joy. Klaus Dinger, fresh from Neu!, took that relentless, driving rhythm and injected it with a pop sensibility, but kept the krautrock's experimental edge. It’s a trance-like groove that just locks in and propels you forward, but with an infectious, almost celebratory energy. Minimalist, yes, but with a vibrant, almost punk rock immediacy. This record feels like driving into the future, no rearview mirror required. Utterly essential.
9. The Modern Dance
Pere Ubu's "The Modern Dance" erupted out of Cleveland like a broken-down factory siren. This isn't just post-punk; it's a clanking, grinding, industrial-strength take on rock 'n' roll, full of jagged edges and unsettling beauty. David Thomas's vocals, half-croon, half-rant, ride atop a bed of alien synths, distorted guitars, and rhythms that feel both precise and completely unhinged. It's urban decay made musical, a soundtrack to the anxious, exhilarating collapse of the old order. Pure, uncompromised art.
10. 20 Jazz Funk Greats (Remastered)
Throbbing Gristle's "20 Jazz Funk Greats," the title alone is a middle finger to convention. This remastered version just sharpens the razor. It’s industrial music at its most confrontational, a bleak, uncompromising soundscape of electronic noise, distorted loops, and chilling spoken word. They weren’t making music; they were dissecting it, exposing its raw nerves. It’s designed to disturb, to provoke, to scrape away comfort. A truly unsettling, yet utterly vital, declaration of sonic warfare against the mundane.
11. ESGN - Evil Seeds Grow Naturally
Freddie Gibbs' "ESGN" might be a newer vintage, but the spirit here is pure, unadulterated rebellion. This isn't your polished mainstream; it’s raw, unflinching street narrative delivered with a vocal grit that echoes the blues and early soul shouters. The beats hit hard, like formative metal structures, underpinning tales that pull no punches. It’s the sound of survival, of truth spoken plainly, without compromise. A direct descendant of artists who carved out their own path, regardless of the rules.
12. vs.
Mission of Burma's "Vs." is a masterclass in post-punk tension and release. It's got the raw energy of early rock, but twisted through an experimental lens, full of jarring dynamics and the unsettling tape loops from Martin Swope. The guitars are sharp, almost metallic, and Roger Miller's vocals are a snarl of intellect and frustration. This isn't easy listening; it’s a challenging, abrasive, yet utterly compelling record that pushed the boundaries of what a rock band could be. A true sonic assault.
