1. Link, Vernon and Doug
Before punk spat its first chord, there was this primal scream. Link Wray, alongside Vernon and Doug, laid down the blueprint for every raw, untamed guitar riff to follow. It’s garage rock before the garage was even built, a visceral, snarling beast with no pretensions, just pure, unadulterated rock 'n' roll energy. Feel that grit? That's the sound of the foundation cracking.
2. Out To Lunch (The Rudy Van Gelder Edition)
Dolphy's 'Out To Lunch' isn't just jazz; it's a deconstruction. This Rudy Van Gelder edition strips away any sonic doubt, revealing the sharp angles and disorienting beauty with pristine clarity. Horns squawk and clatter, but with purpose, navigating a landscape where bebop's traditions are stretched to their breaking point. It’s challenging, yes, but utterly essential for understanding where the avant-garde took its first bold steps.
3. Insane in the Brain (1960s Soul-Jazz Live version)
A "1960s Soul-Jazz Live version" of this tune? Now *that's* a deep cut. Imagine a smoky club, the Hammond B3 groaning, a greasy tenor sax improvising over that instantly recognizable, hypnotic riff. It’s the kind of raw, funky exploration that could only emerge from that era’s fertile ground, translating a future urban psychosis into a blues-infused, sweat-drenched, live performance. Pure, unadulterated groove.
4. Faust IV (Deluxe Edition)
Faust IV, especially in this deluxe treatment, remains a monumental slab of kosmische experimentation. Its motorik pulse drives through a landscape of industrial textures, found sounds, and disembodied vocals, charting a course far from rock's conventional paths. It's less an album and more a journey into a strange, beautiful, often unsettling sonic architecture. This is where krautrock solidified its reputation for fearless, forward-thinking audacity.
5. Suicide Squad: The Album
A "soundtrack" with this title from *my* era? If it existed, it'd be a desperate cash-grab, full of studio hacks trying to graft a punk aesthetic onto commercial pap. Picture some second-rate industrial outfit, trying to sound edgy, but delivering only derivative noise. It’s the kind of soulless product that paved the way for the utter artistic vacuity of the mainstream. Best left in the void it crawled from.
6. Pink Flag (2006 Remastered Version)
Wire’s 'Pink Flag', even decades on and polished by this 2006 remaster, still hits like a blunt object. These aren’t songs; they’re urgent, angular statements, stripped bare of fat, delivered with a precision that belied the chaos of '77. It redefined punk by injecting it with intellectual rigor and brutal economy, paving the way for post-punk’s entire existence. Essential listening for anyone who thinks less isn't more.
7. Hex Enduction Hour (Expanded Deluxe Edition)
The Fall's 'Hex Enduction Hour' is a monolithic, grinding testament to Mark E. Smith’s singular vision. This expanded edition only underscores its hypnotic, repetitive power and raw, caustic energy. It's a post-punk beast, steeped in industrial drone, full of sardonic narratives barked over a relentless, primal rhythm section. Not for the faint of heart, but utterly vital for understanding the true grit of the early '80s.
8. Come Away with ESG
ESG's debut is pure, unadulterated rhythmic genius. Stripped down to bass, drums, and sparse, sharp guitar, it’s a masterclass in minimalist funk that’s as raw as early blues but as forward-thinking as proto-house. There's no fat, just infectious, primal grooves that demand movement. This isn't just music; it’s a pulse, a heartbeat, a clear lineage from the deepest funk to the early dance floor.
