1. Tago Mago (40th Anniversary Edition)
Reverend Gary Davis wasn't just a bluesman; he was a whole institution. This record, *Harlem Street Singer*, captures the man's profound power with just his voice and a guitar, fingerpicking gospel and ragtime like nobody else. His playing is intricate, almost orchestral, yet utterly raw, carrying the weight of generations. It's foundational stuff, the kind of deep blues and spiritual testimony that fueled so much of what came later, from folk revivalists to rock and roll.
2. Harlem Street Singer
Betty Davis's debut is a feral, unvarnished blast of funk and soul, a seismic event that still reverberates. She wasn't just singing; she was testifying, exuding a sexual confidence that was ahead of its time, even for the early '70s. The grooves are greasy, the guitars are sharp, and her delivery is pure, unadulterated swagger. This record is a proto-punk statement in a soul wrapper, a vital, uncompromising scream from the underground.
3. Betty Davis
The 2019 remaster of Suicide's debut serves to sharpen its original, brutal clarity. This 1977 record hit like a brick, a minimalist electronic punk assault born out of downtown NYC. Alan Vega's haunted croon and Martin Rev's stark, hypnotic beatbox rhythms and cheap synth squall created something genuinely disturbing and utterly unique. It’s industrial, it’s proto-electronic, and it laid down a dark, pulsing foundation for so much to follow. Still chilling.
4. Suicide (2019 - Remaster)
The Slits’ *Cut*, especially in this deluxe form, remains a vital artifact of post-punk rebellion. Ari Up’s raw, untamed vocals, coupled with those angular, reggae-infused rhythms, carved out a sound that was deliberately unpolished and fiercely independent. They dismantled rock's machismo with playful aggression, making a statement that was both deeply personal and universally defiant. It’s still a thrilling, visceral listen, showcasing how to truly break from convention.
5. Cut (Deluxe Edition)
Chrome's dual assault of *Half Machine Lip Moves* and *Alien Soundtracks* is a plunge into the deep end of psychedelic industrial punk. These San Francisco weirdos took the raw energy of punk and filtered it through tape loops, distorted guitars, and sci-fi paranoia. The sound is thick, abrasive, and utterly alien, prefiguring so much of what would become industrial rock. It’s a chaotic, mind-bending experience, two LPs of pure, unhinged sonic exploration.
6. Half Machine Lip Moves / Alien Soundtracks
This Heat's *Deceit* is a stark, propulsive masterpiece of post-punk experimentalism, a record born from Cold War anxieties but sounding timelessly urgent. Their rhythmic complexity, fused with found sounds, processed guitars, and incisive, almost spoken-word vocals, created a dense, challenging landscape. It’s not easy listening, but its intricate structures and dark, atmospheric tension reveal new depths with every spin. A truly intellectual and visceral experience.
7. Deceit
Arthur Russell’s *World of Echo* feels like a whispered secret from another dimension. This is early electronic minimalism applied to the cello and voice, drenched in reverb, creating an almost ambient, spiritual space. His intimate, fragmented melodies and delicate loops build a deeply personal, hypnotic world. It’s a testament to the power of stripped-down sound, a quiet rebellion against excess, and a beautiful, introspective journey that still resonates.
