Fans and critics cite Generator as the album where Bad Religion started to change, and there is some validity to that, but the change is slight, and Generator still has plenty of Bad Religion’s speedy, melodic, and intelligent trademarks to make it a winner.

Taken as a whole, Generator has a different feel than Bad Religion’s previous three records, but each song taken independently could have fit in on any of Bad Religion’s previous three albums. So, the seeds of change might have been planted on Generator, but they were gradually sown and harvested over the next several albums.

Bad Religion’s songs and lyrics have always been provocative, challenging, and pointed, but up until Generator, there wasn’t any central theme uniting the songs on the albums (with the exception of the ever present themes of religion and politics that are on every Bad Religion album). Generator can be considered a semi-concept album that explores the economy, over-population, and political conflict, and there is background information and quotes in the liner notes before the lyrics of each song.

The highlights of the record are “Generator,” “Tomorrow,” “Heaven is falling,” and “Atomic Garden.” There’s also their best slower number to date with “The Answer.” The weakest tracks are “Chimaera” and “Only Entertainment,” the two closing songs. They are definitely filler, and I find it odd that they are tracked together back to back at the end of the album.

There’s also the infamous “Two Babies in the Dark,” which has to be the oddest song in the Bad Religion catalog. I used to hate the song, but it has grown on me over the years, and I can now admit that it has become a guilty pleasure for me.

All in all, there’s a lot to process with Generator. There’s the start of a new sound and the incorporation of a central concept, but the record is still excellent, and it contains some of Bad Religion’s best songs.

“Culture was the seed of proliferation but it’s gotten melded/ into an inharmonic whole/ to an inharmonic whole”…

This opening verse from No Control’s title track perfectly epitomizes the entire album. The music is played ferociously fast; the provocative lyrics are delivered at a super speedy pace, yet behind all the aggression and venom is songwriting based in Beach Boys style melody and multi-part vocal harmonies— which makes the album unbelievably catchy.

1989’s No Control is the second chapter in Bad Religion’s golden trilogy of albums that also includes 1988’s Suffer and 1990’s Against The Grain. These three albums are similar in many ways, but there are discernible differences between each album, and No Control’s differentiating factor is its catchiness. It is not quite as fast as Suffer, and its lyrics are not quite as thesaurus heavy as Against The Grain’s, but it is arguably the most catchy Bad Religion album. Plus, it somehow manages to deliver this unbelievable catchiness without any shallowness or lack of thematic complexity.

The songs on No Control are all short, with only 5 of its 15 songs breaking the 2-minute barrier, but Bad Religion still manages to pack every song with plenty of roller coaster style ups & downs and twists & turns. So although the songs are stylistically similar and short, the pace and tempo changes give the record plenty of surprising diversity.

The album starts with a blitzkrieg of three songs: “Change of Ideas,” “Big Bang,” and “No Control.” These three opening songs all flow together, and they are the clearest example of No Control’s speed and aggression balanced on a razor thin blade of catchiness.

Although the first three songs set an almost indomitable tone and pace for the rest of the album, it does not let up from there, and the remaining songs shoot off at the speed of machine gun fire with precise accuracy. The other major highlights for me are “I want to Conquer the World,” “Henchman,” and “You.”

My only criticism of No Control is the second half of the album is not quite as strong as the first half. But overall, No Control is a complete winner, as it is played fantastically fast, it’s loaded with complex lyrical themes, and it still somehow manages to be mysteriously catchy– with multiple instrumental and lyrical hooks lurking around every corner of every song.

Bad Religion’s 1988 release Suffer is their first signature album, and it is the first release in their golden trilogy of albums that also includes No Control- from the 1989, and Against the Grain- from 1990.

Speed is the name of the game on Suffer. The album moves at a blistering pace that is driven by the twin guitar attack of Brett Gurewitz and Greg Hetson. The record’s total run time is just under 30-minutes, and there are very few songs that break 2-minute barrier, but they still manage to pack every song with pace changes and musical hooks that keep everything diverse, interesting, and never monotonous.

My favorite part of Suffer is reserved for Greg Graffin’s Mensa level vocal and lyrical execution. I love Graffin’s vocal tone, pitch, and articulation. Then there’s the lyrical content. Almost every song on Suffer is centered around controversial topics such as the government, politics, and religion (not your typical dinner table conversation fare), but Graffin sings about these topics with such intelligence and conviction that regardless of your political or religious beliefs, you’ll find yourself singing right along. Plus, both Greg Graffin and Brett Guretwitz (the band’s primary songwriters and lyricists) have commodious vocabularies, which add legitimacy and astuteness to the songs. The most impressive part of Graffin’s singing is that he is able to insert his PHD-level, four syllable words right into the blazing speed of the music and completely keep up. He never misses a note; he is always in complete control of his vocal delivery, and the total package of his lyrical sermons paired with the music is insanely melodic and catchy.

All the songs are winners, as every song moves along at that same pace and is packed with melodic hooks and perspicacious lyrics. My personal favorites on the first half of the album are “1000 fools,” “When?,” and “Give You Nothing.” But, the real prestige of the album is saved for the last 5 songs: “Part II (The Numbers Game,” “What Can You Do,” “Do What You Want,” “Part IV,” and “Pessimistic Lies.” These provide a spectacular closing and are the true highlight of the record.

Simply put, Suffer is so good and musically catchy that even the Pope couldn’t help but sing along to its proactively charged (and sometimes anti-religion) lyrics.

Anathema’s Weather Systems is full of bright and sparkling sonic musical sequences, but it has just as many dim sections, which— unfortunately— make the album mostly unmemorable.

The record is filled with climbing crescendos, astonishing atmospheric moods, proficient guitar and piano filled instrumentation, uplifting male and female vocals, and razor sharp production. However, it is almost completely void of diversity, it lacks excitement, and the last 2 songs (which account for more than 15-minutes of the album) seem oddly out of place.

The album starts with the uplifting, yet melancholy, combination of “Untouchable Parts 1 & 2.” The first part is heavy and is sung completely by lead male vocalist Vincent Cavanagh. The second part features a duet of Cavanagh and female lead vocalist Lee Douglas, and the juxtaposition of their male and female vocals is simply stunning. These two opening tracks lead into “The Gathering Of Clouds,” “Lightening Song,” and “Sunlight,” which is the best sequence of songs on the album. All three tracks feature great instrumentation and vocals, yet they are all structured almost identically, especially “Lightening Song” and “Sunlight,” which are basically clones of each other, with the only difference being that “Lightening Song” is sung by Douglas, and “Sunlight” is sung by Cavanagh. Nevertheless, they are all great songs, and for me– “Lightening Song” is the true standout of the album, highlighted by a great guitar driven crescendo.

“The Storm Before the Calm” is the epic centerpiece of the album, and it is the one track from the album that shows some diversity of sound, making it easily distinguishable from the other tracks.  It is broken down into three distinct sections. It starts with great vocals from Cavanagh. It then transitions to an atmospheric instrumental section, before concluding with three vocal verses that build upon each other– creating a great emotional climax for the listener. I do think it’s strange that they conclude two of the final verses using the phrases “fucking insane” and “I’m still fucking here.” I’m certainly not offended by the lyrics; they just seem blatantly out of place, as the rest of the album’s lyrics are very universal and revolve around topics such as sunlight, lightening, clouds, and silence. Again, I’m not all offended by the language, but it just doesn’t seem to fit the tone of the album, and I think the lyrics detract from what would have been one of my favorite verses on the record. Here’s one of the verses: “This beautiful feeling soars over the skies/ Moving through my body out my mind/ It rises up and floods my brain/ This is fucking insane/ This is fucking insane.”

Lastly, the album closes with “The Lost Child” and “Internal Landscapes,” which account for more than a quarter of the album’s total run time. Both songs seem oddly out of place compared to the rest of the tracks on the album. “The Lost Child” is a slow and brooding atmospheric piece, and I just don’t connect with it any way. “Internal Landscapes” is even worse, as it starts with over 2-minutes of incredibly cliché narration about a man who experienced a near death experience. Once the narration finally ends, the song drags on for another 7-minutes without any direction, making it easily the worst track on the album. Because these two final tracks are so bland and banal, they completely take away from any energy the first part of the album created.

Ultimately, the measure of any album is how memorable it is, and although Weather Systems is filled with many excellent and even stunning songs, it fails to be overly exciting, and it is also filled with what should have been easily avoidable flaws; therefore, it fails to be memorable.

Alice In Chains Sap (EP) – 1992
RMR Album Rating- 6 (Good)

Sap is a four song acoustic EP that shows Alice In Chains taking a break from their signature metal sound.

For almost any other metal band, this would have been a death wish. But with the release of Sap, Alice Chains actually became more popular. There are two reasons for this. First, grunge and alternative rock fans are more accepting of acoustic music than metal fans. But more importantly, the songs are outstanding. Sap still sounds like Alice In Chains; it just shows there is more to the band’s sound than menacing guitar riffs.

“Brother” is a great opener that features guest vocals from Ann Wilson of Heart. She also adds vocals on “Am I Inside.” Her contribution is subtle and fits the music perfectly on both songs. “Am I Inside” features my favorite lyrics and chorus on the album. The lyrics were penned by Staley. So as you would expect, they are dark, but they are also telling. Staley was dealing with a heroin addiction and was severely depressed, and Ann Wilson had become seriously overweight and was also battling depression. Here is the chorus: “Black is all I feel so this is how it feels to be free/ Miles beside himself, miles below himself/ Miles behind himself.” They conclude the chorus by asking “am I inside myself,” which considering their personal situations is truly moving and heartfelt.

My favorite track on the record is “Got Me Wrong.” It is the only song that is not fully acoustic. Cantrell adds electric guitar that drives into each chorus, which sounds profoundly powerful compared to the rest of the acoustic instrumentation.

Although Sap is a simple 4-song release, it shows a different side of Alice In Chains not found on their full length records. This makes it a must own album for Alice In Chains fans and a worthwhile release for general rock fans who are not already familiar with the band.

Alice In Chains’ 1991 debut record, Facelift, is the heaviest of their albums with Layne Staley. Its dark and foreboding instrumentation and lyrics are driven by Cantrell’s sinister guitar riffs and Staley’s inimitable vocals. The album was grouped in with the grunge scene of the early 90’s, but it has much more in common with early Black Sabbath than it does with most grunge music. It can also be considered a prime mover to the sludge metal scene that gained momentum a decade after Facelift’s release.

The three big tracks on the record are “We Die Young,” “Man in the Box,” and “Sea of Sorrow” (the opening three tracks). They set the tone for the album right away with inventive guitar sequences and lyrics focused on death and misery. Another highlight is “Bleed the Freak,” which contains my favorite chorus on the album (“These stand for me/ name your god and bleed the freak/ I like to see/ how you all would bleed for me”). Lastly, there’s “Love, Hate, Love.” It is slower than the rest of the album, and I rank it slightly below the rest of the tracks, but Cantrell is quoted as calling it the “masterpiece of that record” (Wikipedia).

During a time when hair-metal and lighter grunge music dominated the charts, Facelift carved the way for a new metal sound– literally giving metal a much needed new face.

A Perfect Circle Mer De Noms- 2000
RMR Album Rating- 9 (Excellent)

A Perfect Circle’s Mer De Noms is inconspicuously metal at times but overtly metal at others. Similarly, it is inconspicuously calm at times but overtly calm at others. This is accomplished by subtly alternating between thrashing guitar riffs and textured orchestration that flow seamlessly together.

The album is incredibly diverse, but it is always coherent. It is a map of contradictions in style navigated by the perfect balance of Billy Howerdel’s guitar and Maynard James Keenan’s vocals.

For me, the most interesting song is “Judith,” which is also the heaviest song on the record with killer guitar parts from Howerdel and near death metal growls from Keenan. Plus, the lyrics are surprising sentimental, so the song is definitely worth listening to while reading the lyrics.

The rest of the album flows seamlessly between very heavy songs and softer songs. So, if “Judith” is the heavy weight of the album, then “3 Libras” is its reciprocal, which is soft in tone and orchestrated.  Another highlight is “Rose,” which is the perfect balance of the album’s soft and heavy parts within the same song. Lastly, I really like “The Hollow” and “Over,” which open and close the album. “Over” begins after about 30 seconds of silence that end the penultimate track; it then fades out slowly with soft vocals from Keenan.

Simply put, Mer De Noms is a stunning masterstroke.

Fly From Here, Yes’ 19^th studio album is divided into two parts. Half of the album is dominated by a long multi-part suite, and the other half consists of a group of shorter songs

The “Fly From Here” suite accounts for half the album, and it succeeds as a rock epic, but it is a “rock” epic and not a “progressive” rock epic. “Fly From Here” is a great mid-tempo pop-rock song that contains 6 sub-sections and runs for almost 25-minutes. For the most part, it’s beautifully performed, and its run time flies by, but don’t expect the complexity of “Close to the Edge,” “Gates of Delirium,” or “Awaken.” However, you can expect soaring vocals from David Benoit, intricate guitar work from Steve Howe, and some interesting key fills from Geoff Downes. In fact, most of the song’s sections are great with the exception of “Bumpy Ride,” the penultimate section of the suite. It is a keyboard solo by Downes, and simply put; it is embarrassing. It reminds me of the background music to the Super Mario Brothers video game. Luckily, this section doesn’t kill the song because it is relatively short. All in all, I like the track, and it definitely makes the album worth hearing.

Other than the title track, the only other interesting song is the album closer, “Into The Storm,” but the band sounds completely uninspired on it, so it fails to reach its potential. However, it’s not a bad way to close the album, and Benoit David reprises the main vocal section from the title track to end the song, which ties the album together.

The other tracks are all banal AOR songs that are destined to be background music in a grocery store or a dentist office waiting room. Squire’s “The Man You Always Wanted Me To Be” is the worst of the lot, and it is so sappy that it is tough for me to listen to.  Lastly, Howe’s solo piece “Solitaire” isn’t bad, but it is nowhere near the level of “Clap,” “Mood for a Day,” or “Masquerade,” so it also fails to spark my interest.

Overall, I enjoy the title track, and it is worthy of keeping in my listening rotation. However, it doesn’t seem like there’s enough gas left in the Yes engine to fuel the kind of music that their fans expect to hear.

Close to the Edge is the seminal Yes album, and its three songs (“Close To The Edge,” “And You And I,” and “Siberian Khatru”) make it one of the greatest progressive rock albums of all time.

The record starts with the near 20-minute title track. Although 20-minute songs were common by 1972, “Close to the Edge” is unique. While most extended tracks of that era were just a series of shorter songs sewn together, “Close to the Edge” is one coherent song that follows a very typical song format. Granted, it is not just a typical piece of music, but it is remarkable that Yes is able to take a traditional song structure, stretch it out for 20-minutes, make it incredibly complex, and somehow keep it accessible at the same time.

There are several sections of the “Close to the Edge” suite that really stand out. First, there is Steve Howe’s venomously biting guitar section that kicks in right after the intro. Then, there are Anderson’s ethereal vocals during the “I get up/ I get down” section, which transitions right into Wakeman’s organ solo that provides the perfect build up to the song’s main crescendo. Lastly, the word play used in the repeating main chorus line is wonderful. The main chorus line is repeated six times. The same words are used each time the chorus is repeated, but the order of the words is changed slightly each time. Here are the six variations of the main chorus all built around the same series of words:

Down at the edge, round by the corner/ Close to the Edge, down by the river
Down at the end, round by the corner/ Close to the Edge, just by the river
Down at the edge, Close by the river/Close to the edge, round by the corner
Close to the end, down by the corner/ down at the edge, round by the river
Down at the edge, round by the corner/ Close to the end, down by a river
Close to the edge, down by the river/ Down at the end, round by the corner

The second half of the record begins with “And You And I.” Like “Close to the Edge,” it is a multi-part suite, but it is calmer than “Close to the Edge.” The whole band shines on the track, but Steve Howe’s acoustic guitar work really takes center stage. The record concludes with “Siberian Khatru,” which is almost as instrumentally chaotic as “Close to the Edge,” and it is even more lyrically chaotic. Anderson has stated that he chooses many of his lyrics based on the sounds of the words, not on the word meanings, and “Siberian Khatru” exemplifies this (hence the name of the track). Although the track is chaotic, it is still catchy, and it has always been a staple at Yes live shows.

Yes was basically flawless during their Main Sequence of albums released between 1971 and 1977, and Close to the Edge is the epitome of these releases. Simply put, the music on Close To The Edge is magical, and it should be required listening for any rock fan.

Fragile contains 4 of Yes’ best songs; however, it is plagued by short solo songs from the individual band members.

Personally, I’m not a fan of having solo spots mixed in with the main songs on any album. To me, an album is a complete work that I listen to from front to back, and by mixing solo pieces in with the main songs (even if the solo pieces are good, which most are on Fragile), it typically puts a ripple in the flow of the album.

There are four key songs on Fragile. “Roundabout” is arguably the most well-known progressive rock song in history. It is rooted in progressive rock, but it has enough classic rock appeal to make it a crossover hit with both progressive and classic rock fans. “Southside of the Sky” is a great showcase for Yes’ technical proficiency. It has a heavy rock sound, but it also features a calming classical piano interlude mid-way through. “Long Distance Runaround” starts as a short traditional track, but Chris Squire’s solo spot “The Fish (Schindleria Praematurus)” flows right out of it, forming a single 2-part song. “The Fish” section of the song is much more complex, and it is one of my favorite parts of the album, as it highlights the whole band jamming together. “The Fish” is also the only solo spot that belongs on the album. Although Chris Squire wrote it as his solo contribution to the album, it is a full band effort, so unlike the other solo spots, it doesn’t take away from the flow of the record.

“Heart of the Sunrise” is my favorite track on the record, and it is the album’s most intricate and complex song. It contains several different movements, twists, and turns. Every player shines, especially Chris Squire who creates one of the deepest most menacing bass riffs ever laid down to tape. “Heart of the Sunrise” is absolutely one of the best tracks in Yes’ catalog.

Ultimately, the solo pieces on Fragile  put a murmur in the heartbeat of album and destroy its flow, but the other four songs are outstanding and make up the bulk of the record, so although Fragile is not perfect, it is a must own record for progressive rock fans.