Pitchfork's 200 Best Albums of the 60s

[lpfreak1170]

164 – The Beatles – A Hard Day's Night (1964)

Spoiler: From the Pitchfork article

Beatlemania was well underway when the Fab Four created A Hard Day’s Night; they were also simultaneously filming their first feature, and the flurry of activity forced the songwriting team of John Lennon and Paul McCartney to focus on cranking out their first album of original tunes. Some tracks echo their earlier songs and influences—girl groups, Motown, and even Tin Pan Alley—but by synthesizing these sounds, the Beatles wound up with a style that felt like the start of something new. It’s not just the songs, it’s the grace notes: the double-tracked vocals on “Any Time at All,” the country-rock gait of “I’ll Cry Instead,” the 12-string George Harrison wields throughout. The album also opened the floodgates for all the beat groups and blues combos lying in wait in the UK, ready to cross the Atlantic once America was ready to hear them. Every band in the British Invasion owes a debt not just to the Beatles but to A Hard Day’s Night specifically: It is the record that created a whole new world. –Stephen Thomas Erlewine

 

[lpfreak1170]

163 – Big Brother & The Holding Company – Cheap Thrills (1968)

Spoiler: From the Pitchfork article

Janis Joplin proved she was an electrifying performer at the Monterey Pop festival, but she didn’t cement her legend until the next year, on the fourth track of Big Brother & the Holding Company’s major-label debut. “Piece of My Heart” is spare for a Big Brother track, with Sam Andrew and James Gurley’s rock guitars forced into the background by Joplin’s annihilating vocals. She squeezes out the chorus as though she is about to tear open her chest cavity.


Like the rest of Cheap Thrills, “Piece of My Heart” derives some of its power from John Simon’s canny production. By adding crowd noises to Big Brother’s studio recordings, he creates the impression that Joplin was fronting San Francisco’s rowdiest bar band—climbing up on a table, beer mug in hand, to howl about heartbreak to an audience of emotional drunks. On “Turtle Blues,” a ballad that mingles old-school blues piano with nimble guitar riffs, you can hear a glass shatter. The first 10 seconds of “Ball and Chain,” which transforms Big Mama Thornton’s classic into a languid acid-rock jam, sound like a false start. These moments could have felt like gimmicks if Joplin’s sincerity and fervor hadn’t endowed the album with such intimacy. –Judy Berman

 

[axolotl]

165 – Sonny Rollins – The Bridge (1962)

Spoiler: From the Pitchfork article

After releasing over 20 albums from 1953 to 1959, Sonny Rollins found himself being named in the same breath as John Coltrane and Miles Davis. But at the height of his fame, the tenor saxophonist disappeared from the jazz scene. Convalescing from the stresses of addiction and success, he began practicing on the Williamsburg Bridge’s pedestrian walkway, far from the peering eyes of the world (save the chance passerby).


Those three years of meditations led to The Bridge, an album that turns panoramic NYC vistas into ballads and bop of utmost soul. Stylistically, the record doesn’t veer far from the hard bop of Rollins’ celebrated 1956 LP Saxophone Colossus, but it digs a little deeper. The nimble title track, in particular, is a snapshot of his new level of control as his solo winds through a series of tempo changes. While his peers started to explore the structural limits of the genre with free jazz in the early ’60s, Rollins went further into what he knew, into himself, discovering a fount of grace in the process. –Kevin Lozano

Thanks for the Pitchfork review. It informed me of a lot that I did not know.

I would just like to throw in, Sonny Rollins, regardless of age, has one of the best beards in all of Jazz.

 

[Ojai Sam]

170 – Roland Kirk – The Inflated Tear (1968)


Geez, this is some great stuff! The first track, "The Black And Crazy Blues", is just simply amazing!

Spoiler: From the Pitchfork article

He was a showman, an eccentric, an advocate, and a scholar—but at the core of Roland Kirk’s appeal, there’s the staggering fact that his performance is the sound of one man harmonizing, thanks to his striking ability to play multiple horns at the same time. One of his earliest records for Atlantic, The Inflated Tear inaugurates his idea of jazz as what he, like Nina Simone, called “black classical music,” a wide-ranging tradition that included everything from the cutting-edge avant-garde to generations-old musical traditions to contemporary pop styles. He could start with a melodic and thematic premise as simple as the slow march of “The Black and Crazy Blues” or a base as familiar as Duke Ellington’s “Creole Love Call” and guide his band to places that tapped the deepest spaces of mood-altering sonics. The purity of lighthearted joy on the flute-led tribute to his young son, “A Laugh for Rory,” the manic giddiness of “Lovellevelliloqui”—it’s all overwhelming, so it’s even more of a rush when Kirk goes on one of his spectacular solo runs, like the Coltrane-rivaling tenor sax fusillade of “Many Blessings.” –Nate Patrin

This one was new to me. Kirk took a leaf from Coltrane's book and recorded this one with his own group:

• Rahn Burton – piano
• Steve Novosel – bass
• Jimmy Hopps – drums

I have to admit I never heard of any of these guys. While they are all excellent, they won't make you forget McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison and Elvin Jones. (Who could?)

Moreover, Kirk's tenor work here does owe a lot to Trane. This record would be filed in the derivative drawer but for one thing: Roland also plays manzello, stritch, clarinet, flute, whistle, cor anglais and flexatone. These different instruments lend an exotic feel that elevates this album to a refreshing uniqueness. It has definitely earned more spins around here.

 

[Zeeba Neighba]

This one was new to me.

How is that possible? It was a pick on the original Jazz Excursion

 

[axolotl]

How is that possible? It was a pick on the original Jazz Excursion

Can you prove that?

 

[Ojai Sam]

How is that possible? It was a pick on the original Jazz Excursion

 

[Zeeba Neighba]

Can you prove that?

#102 on my original RYM thread

https://rateyourmusic.com/list/ZeebaNeighba/zeebas_jazz_excursion_through_500_top_albums/2/

I can’t believe you didn’t remember

 

[JazzyRandy]

#102 on my original RYM thread

https://rateyourmusic.com/list/ZeebaNeighba/zeebas_jazz_excursion_through_500_top_albums/2/

And it comes just before Sci-Fi and Earfood. Wow! I need to break those out for a spin around the block.

Now that I scroll through that page of the list, I keep hearing a voice in my head saying "listen to that, ooooohhhh, listen to that, wow, listen to that one ..." That was one fine excursion, Zeebs!

 

[Unsomnambulist]

#102 on my original RYM thread

https://rateyourmusic.com/list/ZeebaNeighba/zeebas_jazz_excursion_through_500_top_albums/2/

I can’t believe you didn’t remember

Your list title says 500 albums, but you actually have 516.

 

[Ojai Sam]

169 – The Sonics – Here Are The Sonics!!! (1965)


I already know what a beast this album is!!

Spoiler: From the Pitchfork article

Rock’n’roll can be a lot of things, but for a certain snapshot of mid-’60s teenage delinquency—an inner world fueled by shaggy Rat Fink scuzziness and drive-in horror double features—the genre reached its ideal form in the Sonics. They weren’t necessarily the first garage rockers, but nobody embodied the style better, from the moment their debut single “The Witch” peeled fake woodgrain off speaker cabinets in 1964. The formula, as ruthlessly displayed on their 1965 debut LP Here Are the Sonics!!!, was simple: Make every instrument hit with the force of a brand new Pontiac GTO smashing through a guardrail. And if you’re going to get that raucous, make sure you’ve got a frontman like Jerry Roslie, whose range stretches from a demented bellow to an unhinged shriek—all in the service of songs about getting your kicks from drinking poison, tearing around in a “turn-on red” Mustang, and absolutely losing your mind over rejection. Throw in some rock and R&B standards performed as though they were all written by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins at his coffin-busting wildest, and you’ve got the big bang explosion that set the standard for everyone from the Cramps to Nirvana to the White Stripes. –Nate Patrin

I've always been a big fan of mid-60's garage rock. This is one of a relative handful of albums of the genre that hold up over repeated listenings. Primitive but effective.

 

[axolotl]

#102 on my original RYM thread

https://rateyourmusic.com/list/ZeebaNeighba/zeebas_jazz_excursion_through_500_top_albums/2/

I can’t believe you didn’t remember

I got you to post it, again. Now off to make some folks pay up.

 

[Ojai Sam]

168 - The Peter Brötzmann Octet - Machine Gun (1968)


Oh I can already tell I will struggle to finish this one.

Spoiler: From the Pitchfork article

When hard-blowing free jazz reaches a certain intensity, you start to wonder how far it can go and what its limitations of expression might be. Machine Gun is one idea of how such an impassable sonic barrier might present itself. On it, the German saxophonist Peter Brötzmann and seven fellow improvisors—including British saxophonist Evan Parker and Dutch drummer Han Bennink, who would all make a serious mark in European free jazz—are still tethered to jazz proper, with variations on themes and melody and groove, but the result sounds closer to what we now call noise music.

Machine Gun is a roaring mass of energy that serves as an auditory Rorschach test: Given its title and its initial release during a violent, tumultuous, and war-wrecked year, the album can easily inspire fear, horror, and images of violence. But its spirit of collective invention, and the sheer delight of musicians pushing their instruments beyond their design, also yields an equally vivid joy. It’s the sound of eight creative people confronting musical barriers and working together to annihilate them. –Mark Richardson

This is indeed a challenging album. Wiki sez:

The Penguin Guide to Jazz awarded the release four out of four stars plus a special "crown" accolade, and placed it in its "core collection" of jazz albums. The review states that while "the recording is crude," the three saxophonists "fire off a ceaseless round of blasting," resulting in "fearsome power."

But then, what do a bunch of little black and white birds know about jazz?

 

[axolotl]

This is indeed a challenging album. Wiki sez:

The Penguin Guide to Jazz awarded the release four out of four stars plus a special "crown" accolade, and placed it in its "core collection" of jazz albums. The review states that while "the recording is crude," the three saxophonists "fire off a ceaseless round of blasting," resulting in "fearsome power."

But then, what do a bunch of little black and white birds know about jazz?

They are emperor penguins, you earless seal.

 

[Ojai Sam]

167 – The Impressions – Keep On Pushing (1964)


Now this is just what I need after Machine Gun (which I did actually finish)...some stone classic soul!

Spoiler: From the Pitchfork article

With “Keep On Pushing,” penned in the middle of the civil rights movement, Curtis Mayfield channeled his gospel roots into a moment of motivation. The song’s message of strength and persistence had been stewing in him his whole life—a meditation on love, faith, existing on the streets of segregated Chicago, and how he thought things ought to be. Aided by his bandmates Fred Cash and Sam Gooden’s harmonies, Johnny Pate’s horn arrangements, and of course, the warm flourishes of his electric guitar, Mayfield’s stunning falsetto exuded the power and strength he preached.

Keep On Pushing was the Impressions’ first attempt at a proper album—their previous records were essentially singles collections. Every song is crafted just as beautifully as the title track, with Pate’s expert arrangements backing the trio’s earworm harmonies. Mayfield cements his soul icon status with songs about love affairs that are new (“Talking About My Baby”), forbidden (“I Ain’t Supposed To”), and gone (“Long, Long Winter”). And while Chicago blues is certainly present, gospel is the key ingredient. One year after Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech, the Impressions’ version of the spiritual standard “Amen” is arranged as a march. Mayfield’s first proper LP with the Impressions hinted at the artistic intent that would follow: Not long after its release, the Impressions would further soundtrack the movement with “People Get Ready,” “We’re a Winner,” and several other classics. With Keep On Pushing, Mayfield became a star, and it was just the beginning. –Evan Minsker

This record is the perfect follow up to our dialogue in the B.B. King Album Club thread about smooth vs. rough blues. No one was smoother than Curtis Mayfield, tenor Fred Cash and bassman Samuel Gooden. But their blend of soul, gospel and doo wop served to put across a wide variety of material with honesty and power.

 

[Ojai Sam]

166 – The Byrds – The Notorious Byrd Brothers (1968)


Interesting choice...I prefer Younger and Sweetheart to this one, although it's still a really good album.

Spoiler: From the Pitchfork article

In 1968, the Byrds could be described as Sgt. Pepper’s-curious: a band longing for experimentation but still in touch with their jangly roots. There are moments when they sound like a conservative dad’s worst nightmare: aloof, stoned, and gently rebelling. “Things that seemed to be solid are not,” goes one trippy line from “Change Is Now,” and the song’s guitar solo is the sound of thousands of high school longhairs being threatened with military service. But for every early, intrepid use of a Moog synthesizer, there’s something like the gentle cover of Gerry Goffin and Carole King’s “Goin’ Back,” which came with its own confession: “A little bit of courage is all we lack.” The Notorious Byrd Brothers catches the band in a space between, it’s the sound of psychedelic pop’s sugars fermenting, but not yet turning into alcohol. –Andrew Gaerig

Freak, I'm with you on this one. Great to hear it again though.

Notorious Byrd Brothers is really scattered, reflecting the chaos within the band. As Wiki sez:

Recording sessions for The Notorious Byrd Brothers took place throughout the latter half of 1967 and were fraught with tension, resulting in the loss of two members of the band. Rhythm guitarist David Crosby was fired in October 1967 and drummer Michael Clarke left the band midway through recording, returning briefly before finally being dismissed after completion of the album. Additionally, original band member Gene Clark, who had left the group in early 1966, rejoined for three weeks during the making of the album, before leaving again.

 

[Ojai Sam]

This is why I don't do these threads...lol.

192 – Link Wray & The Wraymen – S/T


Not quite as good as I was hoping for...I'm pretty sure I was wanting 12 tunes that hit as hard as "Rumble"...lol. Anyway, since it is Link Wray, you know you're at least gonna get some great guitar work and a couple stompers.

I'm not sure what happened to the album cover, but here, very belatedly, is a Spotify playlist I created for this album:

Turns out that back in 2002 Sundazed released Slinky: The Epic Sessions, a killer 2-CD collection with ALL of the Linkster's 1959-60 recordings for Epic Records from which I drew the above playlist. You will find it hiding under the spoiler:

Spoiler

Listening to them en masse gave me an even greater appreciation for Wray's guitar wizardry.

 

[axolotl]

I'm not sure what happened to the album cover, but here, very belatedly, is a Spotify playlist I created for this album:

Turns out that back in 2002 Sundazed released Slinky: The Epic Sessions, a killer 2-CD collection with ALL of the Linkster's 1959-60 recordings for Epic Records from which I drew the above playlist. You will find it hiding under the spoiler:

Spoiler

Listening to them en masse gave me an even greater appreciation for Wray's guitar wizardry.

I wonder why they designated "Rumble" as "Ramble".

 

[Unsomnambulist]

I wonder why they designated "Rumble" as "Ramble".

I find typos all the time in Spotify metadata.

 

[Ojai Sam]

I wonder why they designated "Rumble" as "Ramble".

Because he recorded “Rumble” for a different label: