1. Gospel Train
This is primal stuff, the raw, untamed spirit of early American song. Before amplified guitars, before the drum kit was a standard, you had voices rising, shaking the rafters with pure conviction. It’s the deep well where blues found its sorrow and rock 'n' roll found its fire. A foundational rhythm, a fervent call-and-response that still resonates with an undeniable, visceral power. You hear the roots of everything, the unvarnished soul pushing through.
2. Link, Vernon and Doug
This outfit, if you can even call them that, laid down something truly ragged and glorious. Not polished studio fare, but garage-band ethos before there were garages. It’s got that greasy, backwoods stomp, a kind of primal rockabilly or untamed blues that just hits you in the gut. Before punk snarled, this was the sound of defiant youth with cheap guitars and something to prove. Unvarnished, essential noise.
3. Out To Lunch (The Rudy Van Gelder Edition)
Dolphy’s vision was pure avant-garde bebop, a dizzying, angular landscape of sound. The ’64 session itself was a wild beast, but Van Gelder’s touch on the remaster finally lets those dissonant horns and percussive explosions breathe with the clarity they deserved. It's a challenging listen, sure, but the intricate interplay and sheer audacity of its composition still cuts through the noise, demanding attention. Pure unadulterated genius.
4. The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators - 2008 Remaster
Roky Erickson and his crew were pushing boundaries before most knew what a boundary was. This 2008 remaster finally gives the jug and those snarling guitars the punch they always needed, stripping away some of the original’s murk. It's garage rock turned inside out, fueled by lysergic visions and a raw, almost frantic energy that birthed a whole new strain of counter-culture sound. Truly ahead of its time.
5. Zuckerzeit
Cluster’s 1974 offering is quintessential Krautrock minimalism, a stark electronic landscape that feels both alien and strangely inviting. Its motorik rhythms, stripped-down synths, and subtle melodic shifts laid crucial groundwork for ambient and early electronic music. It’s not about grand statements, but about hypnotic textures and sustained moods. A true blueprint for what machines could achieve beyond disco's shimmer, profoundly influential and still captivating.
6. Suicide Squad: The Album
Alright, so this isn't exactly a '70s basement tape. But listening to the chaos of this collection, you hear the echoing fragments of what we once called 'rebellion' repackaged for consumption. It's a disjointed sonic collage, a cacophony of styles, reflecting the fractured attention span of modern times. Not a cohesive artistic statement, but a mirror to the unruly, commercialized sprawl, a strange artifact of contemporary noise.
7. Dub Housing
Pere Ubu’s '78 masterpiece cemented their place as post-punk architects. This isn't just noise for noise's sake; it’s a meticulously constructed cacophony, full of jarring angles and David Thomas's unique, almost theatrical yelp. The album blends industrial grit with jagged rock 'n' roll, creating a sound that’s both unsettling and utterly compelling. It’s a blueprint for experimental rock, a snarling, intellectual beast that still feels fresh.
8. Yeezus
Now, a lot of folks wouldn't put this in my usual beat, but listen closer. The industrial throb and minimalist electronic aggression on this '13 record owes more to Suicide or early Throbbing Gristle than any mainstream hip-hop. It’s raw, confrontational, and stripped bare, using distortion and primal beats like a metal band wielding a sledgehammer. A jarring, compelling statement that, for all its modern sheen, taps into an old, rebellious spirit.
9. 20 Jazz Funk Greats (Remastered)
Don't let the title fool you; Throbbing Gristle’s '79 effort is a confrontational, industrial assault. This remastered version finally delivers the visceral sonic punch, letting the bleak synthesizers, processed vocals, and harsh textures cut through with disturbing clarity. It's anti-music as art, a deliberate rejection of prettiness, instead opting for a cold, mechanical dread that shaped the very notion of industrial sound. Unsettling and brilliant.
10. Come Away with ESG
ESG nailed a minimalist funk groove that felt utterly new in '83. Stripped-down, raw basslines, sparse percussion, and direct vocals created something magnetic. This wasn't disco's excess; it was the skeletal framework, a foundational beat that early house producers and hip-hop acts would plunder for years. It's dance music with an edge, unpretentious and infectious, proving that less often means so much more. Pure rhythmic genius.
11. World Of Echo
Arthur Russell’s '86 album remains a singular, haunting statement. His cello, processed through delays and reverb, alongside whispered vocals, creates an ethereal, minimalist soundscape that defies easy categorization. It’s part avant-garde classical, part experimental electronic, part deeply personal folk. The album is a masterclass in atmosphere, a solitary journey through sound that reveals new depths with every listen. Quietly revolutionary.
