20. Public Enemy, It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back. When you have “Bring The Noise,” “Don’t Believe The Hype,” and “Black Steel In The Hour Of Chaos” all on the same record, the rest of the album could be clicks and whistles, but it’s not - track after track of tight production and politically motivated raps make this a definitive statement from a band that will never not be relevant.
19. Joy Division, Closer. The previous album, Unknown Pleasures was obsessive and surgical while Closer jumps around in atmosphere and mixing techniques, even with the same producer - Martin Hannett - at the helm. “Heart And Soul” is enough of an icon to be the eponymous track on the box set while “Twenty Four Hours” stabs you in a dark alley and leaves you to bleed while the city watches. An mportant record that is still vital two and a half decades after Ian Curtis’s suicide.
18. Leftfield, Leftism. Dub and progressive house merged with epic production to create a unique sound that’s never been copied, even by the band itself. “Song Of Life” is the anthem for every sunrise and sunset during the glory days of dance and rave culture.
17. Depeche Mode, Violator. The band’s biggest album for a reason. With beautiful melodies and Martin Gore’s best lyrics - “Halo” and “Enjoy The Silence,” in particular - this is an album that matures well with the listener and is still the first thing I pop in when testing a new set of speakers or CD player to make sure that they “sound right.” I can still program this and its follow up by memory to make the Ultimate Goth Nookie Mix.
16. The Chemical Brothers, Exit Planet Dust. Public Enemy’s Terminator X meets Detroit Techno thanks to the machinations of two pasty Brits and you don’t stop moving until “Alive Alone,” when Beth Orton shows up to take you to the beach after the night out you’ve just had. One of the first proper dance albums that has a sense of build and release that few other releases, including the Chems’ own later recordings, have ever come close to.
15. Aphex Twin, Selected Ambient Works 85-92. Richard James is insane, in case you never noticed. He guts analog synths and builds his own equipment to make sure that it does what he hears in his head and this first release from him is mastered from cassettes over the period listed in the title. Pure and seemingly without lineage from other musicians.
14. The Prodigy, Music For The Jilted Generation. A pair of fingers raised up in anger at the Criminal Justice Bill, this is sonic terrorism that you can dance to. Mashing up the hardcore sound with trance and reggae, Liam Howlett and his associates have probably been responsible for more speeding tickets than any other dance artist.
13. The Smiths, Strangeways, Here We Come. Not everyone’s first choice, but while trying to a little web research to find somebody’s gushing review of the band’s last proper CD, I came across this quote from Johnny Marr: “I don’t think this album is what we’re about to most people. They’ve decided that The Queen Is Dead is the better album and I don’t agree. All the songs are better, it’s better produced and it’s got better atmosphere. I might be wrong but I don’t think I am….It’s the one Smiths record I’ve actually sat down and listened to since the break-up.” Morrisey actually concurred with him on this point: “Well, it is. We’re in absolute accordance on that. We say it quite often. At the same time. In our sleep. But in different beds.” I enjoy this record much, much more than the other (really, really good) albums by this band and I don’t care who questions me on it anymore.
12. The Orb, The Orb’s Adventures Beyond The Ultraworld. I’ve always thought that LX Paterson was sitting around one day thinking “Ambient is good. Dub is good. House is good. Hmm, I wonder if…” and “Little Fluffy Clouds” was born. Make sure you get the 2CD version that was released in the US a few years after the truncated single-disc release as it has the original mix of “Perpetual Dawn,” which Youth made a lot more poppy for the single release. I don’t know why there’s still Laser Floyd at so many planetariums when this record actually, you know, uses space as a theme almost continually.
11. Sparks, Gratuitous Sax and Senseless Violins. Titles like “I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car” and “When Do I Get To Sing ‘My Way?” hinted that the brothers Mael were breaking their 7-year hiatus with even more humor than previously shown if the tabloid-style sleeve wasn’t enough. Embracing the electronic boom that was occurring, Sparks created the perfect synthpop song in “When I Kiss You (I Hear Charlie Parker Playing)” and somehow got Hong Kong film director Tsui Hark to recite an autobiographical piece that I find myself quoting from almost meditatively: “I’m Tsui hark. I’m a film director. I’ve won many awards for my films.” Stupidly out of print and hard to find right now, but well worth the effort.
