My Favourite Albums That I've Never Reviewed (Part 2)

SO WHAT’S THIS ABOUT THEN?
Glad you asked! Basically, I have become embarrassingly one-dimensional and I now measure my self-worth via the potency of my vinyl collection. Which isn’t a great, because while my current accumulation features some of the greatest albums ever made according to EVERYONE, this achieveiment is still not as impressive or as substantial as many people's collections of which I have seen with my own eyes. These shortcomings are owed in part to my late registration for the vinyl game, only actively seeking out the phonograph record medium for roughly two years now. These shortcomings are also owed in part to my drug problem.

Taking my procrastinated vinyl puberty into account, I was forced to think quick and think smart, developing a system which not only ensured that I hit the ground running, but also that I allowed the public eye to get involved, potentially encouraging outside pockets to purchase vinyl for me if they were feeling nice (and some have!). Hello, this is where Juice Nothing comes in.

Flashback, March 2016. I initiated a five-part blog series called The Top 10 Albums Of The 60s through to The 00s, carefully considering my favourite records within these designated decade time gaps. I even reviewed each one, a seemingly innocent exercise in creative writing when, in truth, I was actually underhandedly compiling a checklist of 50 albums I needed in order to have a modest yet powerful army of essential masterpieces within my stockpile. Surely this would prove my worth to the musical community in the most streamlined manner possible. And I’m proud to say that I am almost there. I now own 38 of the original stated 50, which is such a thrill, yet also clearly not good enough.

Last year I released a somewhat b-side extension of this idea, called My Favourite Albums That I've Never Reviewed (Part 1). You see, over the years I have reviewed many many albums, and yet some of the most imperative releases known to man have somehow slipped under my typewriter and never received the props they deserved. The idea of that article was to give love where love was due while expanding on my vinyl requests in front of everyone, please buy me these things oh please please please. I had so much fun with the concept and delivery, that I decided right then and there that this was going to be a yearly post, and here we are again. Once more around the sun. Let's write some words down, I'm so excited.

But before that, it’s important to note that I lied to you before we even began. These are not necessarily my favourite albums that I’ve never reviewed. Who could accurately honour such a specific title? Instead, these are kinda the first 10 that came to my mind (which means a lot in itself), ordered by the level of how badly I wish to hold them in my hands.

Oh, and one more thing. Here are all the album reviews I’ve already ever written on this site, so feel free to buy me any of these on vinyl. For additional safety, you can select from the following two Amazon wish lists here and here. I will legit love you forever, as I have been known to trade bits of my heart for records before.

The Top 10 Albums Of The 60s
The Top 10 Albums Of The 70s
The Top 10 Albums Of The 80s
The Top 10 Albums Of The 90s
The Top 10 Albums Of The 00s
The Top 50 Greatest Albums Ever (even if a bit outdated)
My Favourite Albums That I've Never Reviewed (Part 1)
Worst to Best: David Bowie
Worst to Best: Sonic Youth
Worst to Best: Nick Cave
Worst to Best: Aerosmith
Worst to Best: Radiohead
Worst to Best: Red Hot Chili Peppers
As well as a Top 50 from every year this decade: 2010, 2011 (short stories ugh), 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, and 2017.

10. Aphex Twin - Richard D. James Album (1997)

IDM
Spotify

Having constructed his authoritative reputation within a more ambient space, the acceleration of Aphex Twin’s somewhat self-titled fourth album wasn’t exactly greeted by open arms. The frantic turbulence of technical drill ‘n’ bass drum patterns were too full-on and messy for some, while others had a difficult time taking the cutesy kiddie elements seriously, uncertain whether the uplifting synthetic strings were intended as a joke or not. Of course, only Aphex Twin could answer that (and what's more, he won't), but while the Richard D. James Album has never been dubbed his most coherently proficient, critically revered, or commercially successful record, there was something mischievously special about this particular product. Between the over-caffeinated beats and artificial strangeness, Richard was pushing for the future by hammering a warped and troubling naivety into the computers until the machines themselves wanted to play. And play, they did, very quickly for 32 minutes until they died with pixelated smiles upon their faces and sporadic seizures within their final breaths. Personally, this album was one of my very first adventures into the electronic world which actually made sense to me, and I was surprised to find that, two decades later, it still hasn’t dated whatsoever. This is a feat almost unheard of from the '90s electro scene.

Selected Accolades:
Among The Wire’s list of The Top 50 Albums of 1996
#20 on NME’s list of The Best Albums of 1996
#91 on Slant Magazine's list of The Top 100 Albums of 1990s
#40 on Pitchfork’s list of The Top Albums of 1990s
#71 on Spin’s list of The Best Albums of the Past 30 Years

09. TV on the Radio - Return to Cookie Mountain (2006)

Indie Art Rock
Spotify

If you’re lucky enough, you can sometimes spot an album just as it dances along the very outskirts of contemporary trends. Perhaps it wields a modest spotlight which shines towards the next most logical step. Perhaps it guides the indie scene out from the crowded slump everyone else had sunk into. Either which way, Return to Cookie Mountain provided that exact meeting point, an accumulation of what it was like to be an art kid of the mid-2000s, full of spirited spunk yet not ignorant to the troublesome darkness of reality. By all means, enjoy your distractions of electronic tinkerings and pop ideals, but keep your soul tightly squeezed behind the ribs of accessibility, refusing to get comfortable, forever aware that you don’t entirely belong here and something is very wrong with this place. The particulars of said weird energy is not immediately apparent, but if you stay present for long enough, you’ll learn how to wash away a layer of this mess. And there you may find yourself holding one unconventional experiment indeed, maybe not coagulating in the neatest of manners but still a delightfully colourful pinnacle for a band who have continued to be a consistently compelling asset throughout their career. This album also comes with the Bowie vocal stamp of approval, so just show me where to sign already.

Selected Accolades:
#5 on Metacritic’s list of The Best Albums of 2006
#4 on Stylus Magazine’s list of The Best Albums of 2006
#4 on Slant Magazine’s list of The Best Albums of 2006
#4 on Rolling Stone Magazine’s list of The Best Albums of 2006
#2 on Pitchfork’s list of Top 50 Albums of 2006
#1 on Spin’s list of The Best Albums of 2006
#8 on Rhapsody’s list of The Best Albums of the 2000s

08. Television - Marquee Moon (1977)

Art Post-Punk
Spotify

New York City in the late ‘70s was the place to be, man. A magical time in a magical scene, where the primitives of punk music were evolving towards a new wave direction, and Marquee Moon was painting the flag while making the most sensible suggestions. Why this debut’s importance was so unique is because it captured an arty intellectual attitude which was so of-its-time yet had never been captured before. Its rock fundamentals manipulated that laid-back Velvet Underground aesthetic by leaning into a cleaner melody, pushing the guitar out as their primary weaponry, effortlessly intertwining graceful solos between monotone poetics, uniting a coherent mood without ever interrupting its cryptic smile, the very epitome of a relaxed cool demeanor. Perhaps even more interesting, was that the mountains of critical acclaim stacked beneath this classic record were unable to break it into mass audience awareness, and it is still overlooked in so many ways like some strange little secret which was only monumentally transformative if you knew where to find it. But in the indie alternative rock world itself, its influence was unparalleled. Just ask Sonic Youth, Pixies, U2, R.E.M, Joy Division, John Frusciante, and all those Arctic Monkeys/The Strokes copies you lot seems to be so infatuated with.

Selected Accolades:
#5 in NME's list of The Best Albums of 1977
#10 in NME's list of The Greatest Albums of the 1970s
#3 in Pitchfork’s list of The Greatest Albums of the 1970s
#128 in Rolling Stone's list of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time
#33 in The Guardian's list of The Greatest Albums of All Time
#25 in Melody Maker's list of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time
#4 in NME's list of The Greatest Albums of All Time

07. Sublime - Sublime (1996)

Alternative Third Wave Ska Punk Rock
Spotify

On May 25, 1996, Bradley Nowell was found dead in his motel bed with his Dalmatian, Lou Dog, whimpering beside his uninhabited body. Heroin overdose. Classic end to the rockstar story, save for the following three additional tragic details: Bradley had been married for only one week before his passing; he’d turned 28 three months earlier (just missing the ever romanticised 27 Club criteria); and his death came two months before the release of this self-titled Sublime record, now remembered as their most revered collection of songs yet. Interestingly enough, the reasons for said accolade could not be further from the darkness which clogged Bradley’s veins, as this album was overflowing with theme tunes which drifted through a playful summery day. Everyone was smoking pot here. We were happy to be lazy and wanted to take it easy. Just jam it out, man. Ride this therapeutic third wave of ska. Bounce your head to those hip hop samples. We’ll go smash shit up at the punk rock show later. Of course, the debate of some “death sells” scenario is a fair discussion, especially when considering how this album’s warmth was suddenly embraced beyond the band's standard surfer/skater/stoner crowd, ultimately shipping over five million copies by the decade’s end, a suspicious outcome when any touring promotion was not even an option. But it's still sad though, right? Always a cultural disaster when we lose someone at their peak. Then again, artistically, perhaps this is the greatest way to go? Who's to say. And either way, God bless you, Bradley Nowell. Thanks for the good vibes, brother.

Selected Accolades:
#8 in Spin's list of The 20 Best Albums of '96
#48 in Spin's list of The 90 Greatest Albums of the '90s
Included in Rolling Stone's list of The Essential Recordings of the 90's
#25 in Rolling Stone's list of The 100 Best Albums of the Nineties

06. Godspeed You! Black Emperor - F♯A♯∞ (1997)

Post-Rock
Spotify

If you’ve ever wondered what the end of the world would sound like, here is the post-apocalyptic soundtrack you ordered. The chaos is over, the dirt has settled, and now all that is left is you and an ambient hum, slowly stretching across miles of desolate debris, the drone of our expiration trembling against your eardrums. And you’re sad. You’re scared. You’ve been abandoned. Occasionally, a spoken word mumble or poetic daydream will punctuate the point, but this foreboding emptiness of pure loneliness is carried here by the smarts of accomplished instrumentation exclusively, using fearful symphonics and a forlorn western twang to carve out an isolated path of travel just for you. Considering the 10 core members of Godspeed on this album (with 10 additional guests credited), it’s disconcerting at how sparse this debut sounds, featuring many lengthy gaps where one solitary player stands in the middle of this space, the surrounding orchestrated restraint perhaps F♯A♯∞ most impressive attribute. In an overall analysis of their catalogue, this debut is not always the go-to choice for Godspeed’s magnum opus (that honour usually falls towards this album’s follow up, 2000’s Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven), but there is a certain dark wisdom embedded into this release found nowhere else. A wandering dejection, one which is so timeless and terrifying that I personally consider this to be their unequivocal masterpiece.

Selected Accolades:
#56 in Chart Attack magazine’s list of The Top 50 Canadian Albums of All Time
#38 in The Magnet’s list of The Best Albums from 1993 to 2003
#45 in Pitchfork’s list of The Top 100 Albums of the 1990s

Read This Next Maybe

The Top 10 Albums Of The 00s

05. Slipknot - Slipknot (1999)

Nu Metal
Spotify

Only members of the embarrassing late-90s nu metal army will ever fully comprehend the significance of this album. I mean, to even slap Slipknot’s debut beneath the nu metal label hardly seems like a fair analysis. We were listening to Korn and Limp Bizkit at the time! Do you know what happened when we heard this record?? Slipknot crawled out of nowhere and aggressively tore our barely teenage stomachs open, shoving pictures of dead animals inside of our wounds. They suggested that we cut Satanic symbology into our adolescent arms. I swear I heard them insinuate that I should murder my parents once. My God, if this was indeed nu metal, then it had been coated in so much dirt and shouted at with such hatred that it sunk to the bottom of this genre's gene pool. Nine full-grown men. Each wearing identical boiler suits. Disguising their identities with creepy masks and ID numbers instead of names. It was intimidating, and what's more, they were starving, absolutely hellbent on destroying everything while building a wall of chaotic noise behind their cause, drowning out their talent with antagonistic clamours, which always left their skillset gravely undervalued. That drumming? Wildly inventive. The backing percussion? Overwhelmingly forceful. And Corey’s vocals? Versatile and instantaneously gratifying, still to this very day. Eventually, the masks did come off to reveal nothing more than normal human heads beneath, and the spooky charade fell to pieces shortly following. It quickly became uncool to send any accolades Slipknot's way, and I take a risk by writing this very review. But do you remember this back then? Slipknot were the closest to the devil we had come thus far.

Selected Accolades:
Included in 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die book by Robert Dimery
Included in Q magazine’s list of the 50 Heaviest Albums of All Time
Fastest-selling metal debut in Soundscan's history
#1 in Metal Hammer’s list of The Best Debut Albums of the Last 25 Years

04. Jay-Z - The Black Album (2003)

East Coast Hip Hop

There’s not enough space on this page to detail Jay-Z's successes. His critical accolades, his money made, and his myriad of entrepreneurial ventures are far too vast to summarise except to bow down and recognise this as the man who married Beyoncé. He is also the oft-documented "biggest male artist in the modern world" and this is a fair statement, as there is no one bigger, really. If the ever-bragged crown of rap actually existed, then it’s done its rounds on his head plenty, that much is for sure. So what more can we say? Evidently nothing, as by 2003, even Jay figured he’d said enough and announced his retirement with this very release, The Black Album. Said proclamation may have eventually proven to be somewhat dishonest, but whether a publicity stunt or not, his retreat was inescapably the theme of this record, certainly in a lyrical regard, but even more so in Jay-Z’s sheer determination to manufacture a classic hip hop exit, armed with a precise concentration and an infallible plan to align the stars by force. And by stars, I mean the harvesting of the creamiest producers available, including Rubin, West, Timbaland, Neptunes, and Eminem, each of these fellas polishing a gleaming shell around the place where gangster beats and pop sensibilities copulated to birth insanely attractive children with a whole load of words in their mouths. Naturally, Jay raps exclusively about his own greatness, but this boasting technique is a defining characteristic of the entire genre, so what you gonna do about it? At least Jay’s self-fellatio has some genuine merit, right? This isn’t even the guy's only classic album.

Selected Accolades:
Nominated for Best Rap Album Grammy in 2005
#90 in Pitchfork's list of The Top 200 Albums from the 2000s
#7 in Slant Magazine's list of The Top 200 Albums from the 2000s
#349 in Rolling Stone's list of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time

03. ABBA - The Visitors (1981)

Pop
Spotify

ABBA have an inaccurate reputation as an overplayed set of disco stars who orbit around their Mama Mia hits, and this misconception is a minor musical tragedy. All too often these mistruths fester in people's minds before they reach The Visitors part of their exploration, and as a result, many never get to hear ABBA say goodbye. Goodbye to us (this being their final album), but more importantly, goodbye to one another, divorce papers signed, the two ABBA couples already split down the middle, no longer interested in the monuments they had built together. Due to this hostile atmosphere surrounding an understandably interpersonal tension, you can hear that this was not an easy album to make. However, the darker liquid they managed to painfully squeezed from their creativity ducts was of a much higher concentration, more arty and progressive this time, a humourless sophistication within the melancholic complications, long past the process of flicking bubblegum at your face in hopes that something would stick. This is the sound of fatigued talent trying to dance with a brave smile, but unable to remember exactly how to do so, eventually giving up completely. It was a somber flash of resignation and, predictably, this direction didn't fill fans with confidence, meaning that ABBA's masterpiece has never been as commercially nor critically acclaimed as it damn well should have been. However, those of us who understand, recognise a much wider ache in these abandonment issues, the sour center of a sugarcoated catalog leaving a lasting linger of a loud, bitter taste between our frowns.

Selected Accolades:
none, impossibly.

02. Guns N' Roses - Appetite for Destruction (1987)

Hard Rock
Spotify

If there ever was a band who came out running with scissors, it would be Guns N' Roses. The unadulterated arrogance of this debut was not only far too excessive for such a fresh outfit, but annoyingly, they also had the talent to back their loud mouths up. The poster partnership between Slash’s recognisable hard metal riffs and Axl’s unprecedented vocal power exploded this album as an instant hard rock classic, single-handedly altering the entire genre itself. They were the aggressive injection of fire that the scene was craving, a rebellious party attitude fixated on utter carnage, scaring those glam hair bands far away when the energy got a little too dangerous for their glittered platform shoes. Make no mistake, Guns N' Roses were the real deal. They were the cool kids from the trash pile, sharing needles, forgetting to use condoms, full of disease and excited to bite you, please roll up your sleeve. And while the hit songs on Appetite for Destruction are so monumental that the radio has fucked them dry while the surrounding tracks suffering in their shadows, it’s difficult not to appreciate how far up its own ass this audacious package was before anyone even cared. Because that’s exactly where rock ‘n roll belongs. Up someone's ass, preferably a blonde.

Selected Accolades:
Included in 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die book by Robert Dimery
#59 in Pitchfork’s list of The Top 100 Albums of the 1980s
#37 in Slant Magazine’s list of The Best Albums of the 1980s
#27 in Rolling Stone's list of The Best Albums of the 1980s
#10 in Q magazine’s list of The 40 Best Albums of the '80s
#2 in Guitar World magazine's list of The 100 Greatest Guitar Albums of All Time
#62 in Rolling Stone's list of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time
#42 in VH1’s list of The Greatest Albums of All Time

01. Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band - Trout Mask Replica (1969)

Experimental Rock

Written in eight hours. Mismatched ideas of avant-garde blues and free folk jazzies were intentionally stuck together at the wrong angles. Unhinged and out of sync. Challenging the entire audio art form with a comical clutter. Outlandish surrealism. Eccentric Tom Waits snarls which predated Tom Waits himself. Relentlessly rehearsed 14+ hours a day for 8 months, often without food. Dictated by Beefheart's strict cult leadership fist until members had mental breakdowns. Refined sloppiness was achieved. Over an hour of instrumentals recorded in six hours. Fittingly produced by Frank Zappa’s fingers as the very extremities of his philosophical whack. Polarising results followed. Insufferable to many. The pinnacle of influential music craft to others. Throwing the bar so far out of the window that people still hardly dare to venture out that distance. Imagine all of this back in ‘69. Do you feel that? Is the folklore allure tugging at your curiosity? Then brace yourself for a very difficult first few listens. You have to put the time in for this one here. You have to want it. But with a bit of perseverance, you'll eventually latch onto some specific childlike moment obscured deep within the disjointed chaos, and that’s your in. Soon after, you’ll become desensitised, and suddenly, Trout Mask Replica won’t sound disorganised anymore. Congratulations, you’ve just leveled up.

Selected Accolades:
Included in 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die book by Robert Dimery
#60 in Rolling Stone's list of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time
#51 in Mojo's list of The 100 Records That Changed the World
#28 in Mojo's list of The 100 Greatest Albums Ever Made
Added to the National Recording Registry by the Library of Congress in 2010


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Worst to Best: Christopher Nolan

Christopher Nolan, eh. I really like the guy. Consistent filmography. Hardly a hiccup in sight. One of the most dependable directors on the planet. Seems like a chill dude.

What it is that Chris (may I call him Chris?) has managed to achieve so well, is locating the ever-elusive clitoris situated between a mainstream formulated cinema appeal, and an intellectual tangle which prefers to ask the questions rather than answer them. More often than not, this complex technique of trickery guarantees a house full of smiling faces. Are you one of those people who enjoys spending their time alone, developing theories about inconspicuous details and then connecting them to some hypothetical Reddit argument you upvoted? Then you should find more than enough open-ended sources from Nolan’s endeavours to keep your fingers busy. On the other side, if you simply enjoy munching your popcorn at high speeds whilst dribbling your soda upon your lap and making remarks such as “woaaaah, look at those special effects, maaan!”, well, there’s something in there for you too.

It's no surprise to me that Nolan has made so much money over his career, because the guy totally deserves it. He’s worked hard and I’m proud of him. 10 films later, and he is one of the most acclaimed directors on the planet, grossing over $4.7 billion worldwide with 34 Oscar nominations and ten wins. That’s an average of $470 million, 3.4 Oscar nominations, and one Oscar win per every single film. Every single film! And here I am, getting excited when my Facebook status gets 10 Likes.

Your own love for Christopher Nolan will depend on your taste for the whole movie medium itself. If you prioritise well-written personalities over rich storytelling, then this director may not be for you, because in all honesty, his notable character developments are sporadic at best (in fact, the large majority of fictional individuals in Nolan's world are indecipherable from one another). However, if you enjoy a little confusion in your life, delivered via non-linear narratives and troubling flashbacks, forever lost within themes of obsession and psychological disorders and identity turmoil, then do yourself a favour, and watch all of his films. Again if needs be. That’s what I did, and look at me now. I’m writing a whole article on Christopher Nolan like I’m some fucking expert or something.

Ready? Here’s my worst to best of the man's directed features. And no matter what this list says, each and every piece of work on offer here was a pure inspiration to me. I just want to go outside and write movies with my brother Jonathan. Let’s ask that boy Hans Zimmer to sort out the score. That guy really knows what he is doing.

10. The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

Watch the Trailer
Welcome back to Gotham City! Eight years after Batman’s former glory! And never has the absence of the Joker been so sorely evident as it is in this dismal curtain call. In all fairness, the city’s latest supervillain (the monstrous Bane) was the perfect character choice due to his vast differences from those who came before, but his distressingly humourless outlook on political themes weighed on the somewhat boring side, which caused me to mourn for the comedic relief of Ledger’s iconic role, more here than ever. Certainly, Hardy does an okay job. As does Bale within the very uncomplicated Batman role. As does Hathaway playing the much adored Catwoman. But these badly-written performances were not the movie’s primary dilemmas. Rather, the true difficulties came during the disorganised plot which tried to do too much too slowly, somehow not getting its act together in a whopping 165 minutes, all the while overwhelming us with an often deafening music score and indecipherable dialogue. Of course, fanboys have vigorously defended the flick to this very day, and they did have some points. Don't look at this as a film. Look at it as the final piece to DC’s greatest film run ever, and then you can't be too disappointed, right? Because, even at his worst, Nolan's foray into superherodom was still up there with the best.

09. Interstellar (2014)

Watch the Trailer
What's that you say? A dystopian science fiction epic? Where Earth is dying? A group of space explorers have to go where no man has gone before? All to save humanity? What an original story! Regardless, this tired plot decorated with Kubrick fellatio quickly proves its worth, by singeing your retina and expanding the spaces between your cerebral lobes as one absolute technical masterpiece. The big budget special effects are monumental feats of visual stimulation while the conceptual designs and complexities of wormhole theories were evidently heavily researched, spinning in the infinity of space without losing its human touch. Remarkable! Awe-inspiring! Tremendous! Woweee! Unfortunately, repeated viewings of Interstellar were far less inspiring. The dominant problem came with this flick dressing itself up like some scholarly think-piece, which works until you actually think about it (in particular, the bootstrap paradox building a barrier around any worthwhile debate, but let's ignore that for now). What's more, those desperate heart-tugs poking at some mushy dynamic between unmemorable characters also fell short to me, as I found it impossible to emotionally invest in these individuals who were all utterly void of any defining personalities whatsoever. Like everyone, I admire Nolan for ambitiously stretching this film to its very limits (and the grandiose effort is undeniably yet another essential display of cinematic artistry), but it was far too big for its own fabric, and it tore, errors glaring through, blinding anyone who looked directly at it.

08. Insomnia (2002)

Watch the Trailer
Insomnia was Nolan’s first studio feature, and after the immense success of Momento, it was a vital intersection in the director’s career. Was he going to validate his previous victory as a non-fluke? Or would the additional pressure topple the man over? Aware of the wager, Christopher took the safest route possible and opted to remake a 1997 Norwegian psychological thriller (same title) in a typical Hollywood crime style, complete with murder, cover-ups, sleep-deprivation, and guilt. To further secure a healthy box office stockpile, two of the most renowned actors that money could buy were hired to execute this cat-and-mouse device, namely Al Pacino being his usual enthralling self, and Robin Williams in one of his most subtly impressive (and underrated!) roles to date. In fact, this is some of the greatest acting you are ever likely to witness in any Nolan film, and the praise which followed was quick to state nothing less. However, there was still a problem: the plot itself. The story had a promising start by accomplishing a hefty dose of anxiety without relying on the director’s usual overblown intellectualism, but in the end, it was this very cautious lack of challenge which ultimately spiraled the piece into lower realms of predictability, now regarded as perhaps the most formulated flick in Christopher’s entire filmography. That said, I was not disappointed in the slightest, it's a very cool film, and I would watch it again maybe.

07. Batman Begins (2005)

Watch the Trailer
After the cartoonesque absurdity of Clooney’s syndicate threatened to capsize the entire Batman franchise forever, one may say Nolan’s job was a comparatively easy affair. Wisely opting to uproot the narrative and start from the very beginning, Batman Begins was just as the title promised: an origins story, completely standalone yet preparing us for a much more complex hero to come. This incarnation was perfectly suited for Bale’s quietly unsettling demeanor, and I was happy to revisit this classic protagonist as he trained himself up to protect Gotham against that scary Scarecrow villain. Nolan’s first ruling order was to throttle all excessive explosions, witty one-liners, flashy sparkles, goofy action sequences, and ludicrous gadgets right out of his baby, gone. He then restrained those stereotypical superhero elements into a much more down-to-earth neo-noir crime thriller, governed by darker storytelling, human characters, and a concentration on minute details rather than any of the overwhelming special effects from previous sequences. What happens next may surprise you: a groundbreaking delivery of comic book adaptations, influencing a fresh breed of more realistic, adult cinematic experiences which favoured a gloomy sincerity over any humorous cheap shots. And for that, I thank you, Chris. Almost instantaneously, people dubbed this effort as one of the greatest superhero flicks ever put together, without any idea of what was coming next.

06. The Prestige (2006)

Watch the Trailer
Based on Christopher Priest's 1995 novel of the same name, the most notable achievement of this mystery thriller is that it delivers itself exactly like any magic trick would. The Prestige as a film is secretly the star of the whole performance, while the magician rivalry (adequately portrayed by Bale and Jackman) are merely props in their own show. Nolan has confirmed that the separate acts of this story were specifically ordered to mimic an illusionary device, of which this clever idea conned an elaborate aura of wizardry into every scene, distracting us with mind puzzles and magnificent reveals, oblivious to the two lead characters as they battle it out for magic dominance. Also, David Bowie is Nikola Tesla for today, just for your records. Moving on, and much like any worthwhile sleight of hand trick, it’s impossible to dissect the contents without spoiling the surprises for those using fresh eyes. However, I will say this: The Prestige is a good movie, but not a great movie. It's a spectacle of imaginative entertainment which tangles itself up in its own complex web of deception, and more often than not, yells the word “surprise!” a touch too enthusiastically. No one would call this Nolan’s most disappointing offering, of that I’m sure, but I certainly would understand the argument of it being one of his most forgettable.

Read This Next Maybe

Worst to Best: Quentin Tarantino

05. Following (1998)

Watch the Trailer
And here we have Nolan’s debut feature, a non-linear neo-noir crime thriller about a struggling writer who gets mixed up in the arts (and obsessions) of thievery. By all means, it’s a conventional story in comparison to the director’s latter-day explosions, but with a mere $6,000 budget to its name, the true exhilaration came from Christopher Nolan himself, as he desperately attempted to unleash his intensely ambitious prowess against such suffocating restrictions. Without the crutch of an expensive Hollywood gleam, this film was oiled up with a heavy black and white slick, lubricating the mysterious smarts to speed along at a nimble pace, cramming the quick ride with sharp objects until it reached a maximum capacity, and then pouring everything directly into your belly until you were satisfied despite the meal's overall modesty. Additional admiration must also be handed to the convincing performances offered by the actors themselves, who were not only all unknowns back then, but are still unknown to this very day somehow. Regardless (and according to various respected sources), Following is one of the greatest no-budget movies ever made, and its neglected position in Nolan’s remarkable filmography is an unforgivable injustice. If you take nothing else from this review, know that the man’s genius is, at times, more evident here than on any other project, because it’s almost inconceivable that he achieved what he did with what he had.

04. Memento (2000)

Watch the Trailer
When analysing the ingenuity of Memento, one needs to highlight a few things. Like how this is only Nolan’s second feature film. Or how excellent the choice was to cast Guy Pearce, as his lack of high profile celebrity would be unable to dominate any of the hyperactive chatter. Or how the neo-noir psychological thriller was not only overly-smart but also profoundly tragic without losing an element of subtle humour throughout. I mean, just as a written summary, a feat of daring inventiveness is revealed, by introducing a vengeful man hunting for his wife’s killers, running its narrative flat-out by using two connected storylines: one proceeding forwards, while the other worked in reverse, accentuating the main character’s severe case of anterograde amnesia. After a description like that, your sphincter is already preparing itself for the insertion of puzzle pieces, while the doctor politely asks, "Would you mind sorting this out for me?". And sort it out, you will. Long after the film has ended. And that, above all else, is what you’ve got to respect Nolan for. It's the fact that most men would have tripped themselves up during the very first stages of developing dual timelines which would speak the same adventure coming from opposite directions, why would anyone do that to themselves? And yet, somehow, this director holds our attention and rewards our persistence so delightfully that the end result was an instantaneous success from all corners, often lauded as Christopher's crowning achievement. It has even been preserved by the National Film Registry in 2017, which they tell me is a good thing.

03. Dunkirk (2017)

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Take a War World II script about allied soldiers struggling to survive the frustrating death trap of a beach surrounded by Nazis. Then hand this true story to a man notorious for birthing psychologically complexities and unresolved narratives out of thin air. Stir well, and what do you get? Nothing less than an over-the-top war film of epic proportions with high budget bombs bursting your brain open and soldiers with uncontrollable mental disorders snapping at a moment's notice, of course! Except, Dunkirk was nothing like that. Rather, it was a backstory-less, Hollywood-less, (almost) dialogue-less, (basically) CGI-less masterpiece, which boasted subtleties and reservations without ever choking on the boring bullet. And how did it achieved such a unique feat? By dropping you in the middle of an intensely streamlined documentary atmosphere, intended to accurately portray war as an honest character itself, not some celebration of high-speed adrenaline explosions nor an immoral praise for so-called historic heroes whose actions deserve anything but. Truthfully, Dunkirk is an indescribable piece (it would be difficult to even spoil it), other than agreeing with those critics who called it one of the greatest war films ever made. Yes, Hans Zimmer outdid himself. Yes, Harry Styles was just fine. But it was our director, now functioning at maximum confidence, who surprisingly shone through as the least Nolany version of Nolan yet.

Click here to witness Ammr and Jared’s live-action review of Dunkirk (filmed while drunk)!

02. The Dark Knight (2008)

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I’m just going to talk about the Joker for a minute, do you mind? For here we have arguably the most complex character in all of the comic book universes, with so many ways to interpret the intricate madness that the vastly diverse cinematic variations of the supervillain are only tied together by name alone. And yet, from Nicholson’s creepy blueprint right until Leto’s dismal miscarriage, none corrupted the maniacal psychopathy quite as troubling as Heath Ledger did. Delivering his chaotic anarchy beneath a grungy demeanor, the on-screen deterioration of this Joker’s sanity was so realistic, that it ultimately killed the actor himself, haunting the film with a deeper core of tragic sadness. However, from an artistic perspective, it was the perfect way to go, undeniably Ledger’s peak performance, while he leads the pack as the deepest character Nolan has ever told (even winning the Best Supporting Actor Oscar, the first comic-book movie actor to ever do so). That said, while Joker dominates all conversation, the film itself was deserving of the performance, as a superhero movie except with all of the superhero trademarks furiously blackened out, redefining the formula of good vs. evil vs. everything in-between (hey, Two-Face). And then, there it was. The greatest flick in the superhero genre, period. It still makes anything that Marvel has done look like a children's candy store surrounded by protective guardians just in case someone chokes.

01. Inception (2010)

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Inception as a concept is enough to evoke a restless enthusiasm in your little vibrating knees, with Leo and his team exploring the possibilities of extracting information from the human mind during their dream states. And yet, it’s the balance within this neo-noir science fiction heist film which truly lifts it as Nolan’s absolute crowning work. The action is intense, the visuals are unrivaled, and the human dynamic between this all-star cast successfully glues the complicated premise together, stacking layers upon layers of intellect on top of your mind, demanding that your full attention is invested otherwise you will surely be buried beneath its surrealistic abstractions forever, wake up. Not even the most extreme Nolan antagonists (Nolantagonists?) could ever accuse him of any ambition deficiency, but Inception is three levels up, so meticulously detailed that it took the man around ten years to develop, cautiously explaining his perplexing plans adequately without spoon-feeding anyone, requiring you to do some of the work, let’s meet halfway. And then like a dream, it weaved through your head long after the credits had rolled, rewarding repeated visits, and giving hope to modern cinema as effortlessly one of the best movies of the decade. Maybe even the best. It’s the perfect film within the perfect film within. And there is nothing else like it.


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10 Things I Learned When I Quit Social Media for 213.5 hours

Remember the other day when everyone freaked out about Facebook? Ironically, our news feeds were plagued with disdain towards the very platform they were being broadcasted on. It was as if an army of annoying parasites were cursing the host that fed it, even though this was the only thing keeping them alive. What's more, these festering creatures sure had a lot to say! Our data was being misused! Our privacy was under threat! I hereby swear my allegiance to the #DeleteYourFacebook movement! No more shall I be a part of such a blatant exploitation of the information I have happily surrendered up until this point! I am not a sheep like the rest of you, and instead, I will follow these other people over here! And we will remain undetected while reigning supreme!

Myself, I rose above such mass hysterical nonsense. I called its bluff, convinced that yet another panicked fad was corrupting the vulnerable little minds of our agitated society, and when I peered over the side of my pedestal the other day, it seems like I was correct. Again. Because do you know where those people are now? They're still on Facebook.

Eventually, this mad hype calmed its dribble, and then I jumped ship anyway. I did so in the most hypocritical manner I could possibly muster too, by posting a lone image across all of my social media accounts, dramatically making a big deal out of my departure with a grand announcement, one which provided no reasoning behind the decision. My hope was to provoke some light concern among my friendship group. I wanted them to ask questions. Had something terrible happened to Jared? Who hurt him? Was this a cry for help? Were we about to find this guy face-first in a bucket of dirty shower water? An intentional drowning? Nothing left behind but a suicide note which simply read, "So long, and thanks for all the Likes"?

No such luck, peasants. Rather, my trusty iPhone was having some hardware issues, and those friendly geniuses at the Apple store deemed it best to wipe all of my contents clean. My optimistic reprogramming told me that this may very well be an opportunity. I hesitated before diving back into the mass app installation process, and then opted to gently step away from the digital scene instead. I took a breather. I reevaluated my real life. I tested whether or not I even existed outside of this online persona I had so carefully crafted for myself. Believe me, I had my doubts.

My initial goal was to make it to 14 days, otherwise known as two weeks. After a while, I changed that into 11 days, which was still two weeks in working day numbers. I then reduced that to 10 days, because it’s a nicer number, I prefer it. In the end, I nearly made it to nine days. 213.5 hours, to be exact. But what had broken me? Had my online addiction overwhelmed my otherwise impenetrable integrity? Was my premature reconnection a result of deteriorated willpower? No. I had returned because my people needed me.

Here are 10 things I learned during my time of electronic solitude:

1. A stream of chatter immediately stopped running through my brain.

It was the voices of my friends! All day long, you guys are like blah blah blah, married kids food holiday gym feminism blaaaah. Omg, you mean I can turn that off? That shit was driving me crazy!

2. My battery lasted longer.

This is probably more of a moo benefit because it's like a cow's opinion. It just doesn't matter. Obviously you’ll have more battery! But you’ll also have nothing to use it on! Maybe I’ll just check my bank balance again. Nope, still nothing.

3. My phone’s entire purpose became uncertain.

For many of us, our phones are like dependable superhero sidekicks. Right by our hip whenever we need a helping hand. An instantaneous diversion at the tap of a button. Quickly, post that status before you forget it, boy. No longer was this the case for me. I would watch full movies without any idea where my phone was. The phantom pocket pangs eventually tired themselves out. There were no sly hits of Instagram before I went to bed. There were no provocative updates from the amateur alt-girls of Twitter, God bless you. There was nothing. Nothing whatsoever. In these moments of peaceful clarity, I began to question who had actually been in control all of this time. Was it me? Or was it that expensive little rectangle over there? I never answer phone calls anyway, so why do they even call you a phone?

4. That said, the autopilot aspect was scary.

Your brain is like my brain, and my brain is well trained. How often I’d catch my thumb frantically searching for the social media icons was unsettling. If they were available, make no mistake, my thought patterns would have broken me back in without even waiting for my command. “Stupid trained brain!” my trained brain said to itself.

5. I did miss stalking people though.

This happened often. I’d meet someone new or a recruiter with a hot name would send me an email, and my instinct would be to rush over to Facebook and analyse how this person had chosen to represent themselves online. But I couldn’t do that! Because I was on hiatus! Oh, the horror! How many potential wanks to fresh profile pictures did lose? I can't jerk off to normal porn anymore. I don’t know who those people are.

6. For the first time, I realised what social media actually is.

Social media is a time killer. People often use that term as a diss, treating Facebook as a scapegoat for their lack of productivity, when in truth, it was the human who pulled the trigger. Certainly, Facebook is a waste of our precious hours. But when you’re waiting in a queue or you’re stuck in an awkward conversation with someone who looks funny, then this Fast-Forward Life Button can be a fucking godsend.

7. It’s also called social media for a reason.

I was always one of those people who tried to sound smart when I said stuff like “social media is fake, it gives you a false sense of socialising, but it can never be a replacement for genuine real-life interaction hahaha”. I still believe this to be true, but not as true as I once believed it to be true. Rather, in these times of abstinence, I felt less connected to the real world than ever before. Even worse, was that my own ingenious thoughts had no escape route and they were forever absorbed into the murky muck that I call my memory, gone gone, without a trace, gone.

8. Facebook is well sneaky.

When you’ve been offline for a while, Facebook starts to pummel your email with useless information such as, “You have 60 unread notifications,” or “Your hot friend commented on their own status,” or "Remember that person from High School? They shared a meme about ducks, you'd love it". Shameless low blows which exploit your friends to entice you back, often mentioning them by name within the very subject line itself just to ensure that you can't look away in time. When my torturous experiment was finally over and I logged back in, roughly 75% of my notifications were completely unrelated to me. It’s as if the Facebook algorithm has a panic attack and does whatever it can to lure you into its dark labyrinth of distracting distractions again. It's a dick move, Mother Zuckerberg! Fuck you, Zuck! lol, that's a good one.

9. Nobody cares that you’ve left.

When I returned to the world of the half-living, I expected people to drop to their knees, begging for forgiveness that they had taken me for granted in the past, promising me a better future where I would be glittered by an abundance of reactions and praised via grammatically correct comments. Nope. Life went on without me. Nobody wrote on my wall. Nobody sent me a message. I am no one. I am nothing.

10. Social media is good for some people.

You often hear about these humans who quit their digital lives and feel an overwhelming sense of freedom, finally released from an anxiety they never knew they were carrying around in their pockets. Not me. I withered without my daily dose of validation. I have too many words bouncing around my skull and I need to put them into other people’s skulls because then it becomes their problem too. I cannot carry this burden alone. So yes, as it turns out, social media is actually good for some people. And I am one of those people.


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Worst to Best: Red Hot Chili Peppers

“I’m forever near a stereo saying, ‘What the fuck is this garbage?’ And the answer is always the Red Hot Chili Peppers.” ― Nick Cave

Writing this article seemed like a good idea at first, but when I finally stepped back and hesitated to question what exactly I was doing, it was already too late. I think I may have made a mistake.

Red Hot Chili Peppers have become the punchline to a joke about the embarrassing state of dadrock meeting the unfashionable stupidity of mainstream audiences, hahaha, so funny! It’s way cooler to dislike RHCP now than it is to like them, the trendy kids won't read this article, which was about the realisation that drowned my brain in its own insecurities. I was gambling all of my credit chips on a band I wasn't actually allowed to enjoy! What was I doing here? I mean, there is no denying that these musical figureheads had followed me my whole life for better or worse (their debut album was released during my birth year, in fact), but perhaps this longstanding relationship blurred my usually sound judgment? This art had raised me like they were my parents, which could mean that my adoration and respect may have stemmed from a place of conditioning, right? Did this band even have enough depth to withstand the hours of digging from my article's analysis-spade? Could I conjure up an adequate amount of eloquent words to describe such a commercial outfit that every publication in existence has already described at unreasonable lengths? The answer was probably not.

Unfortunately, my boots were in the thick of the mud as I had already created the above lead image, and it looked fucking sick, so what choice did have? I closed my eyes, and I trawled onward, burdened by a backpack of self-doubt and wet sandwiches, my hands reaching out to hopefully rediscover some former appreciation within the cracks of their entire discography. And that's when I turned one corner and walked directly into my old buddies again, hey! Wow, it was so good to see them! They seemed really well, and they welcomed me with open arms of love and warmth, taking off that backpack and carrying it for me, as they spoke about their history and their influences and their integrity while I just listened. My soul recharged and my associations realigned themselves. Oh yes, I belong here.

Let me explain something to you. Red Hot Chili Peppers have been through more hardships than almost any other band I can think of, with an unstable line-up of at least 14 musicians coming and going, usually because they were completely preoccupied with needles, stabbing holes into their veins then stuffing their systems full of cement flavoured opiates, to the point that a man died once. And yet, within these tragedies, the Chilis never lost sight of their organic spiritual appreciation for life itself. This is important because we are so often bombarded with art which collects stones in its pockets and then jumps into freezing cold water, despite the fact that the father artists have never experienced true misfortunes. Those palettes did not earn that colour of inspiration! The Peppers, however, are drenched by this agonising form of source material and yet they chose to spin these traumas into sunshine socks of positivity, placing them over their cocks and then fucking barely legal girls with them. And that is where their unparalleled magic thrives. From teenage pussy. Oh my God, I remember all of this now.

No self-respecting individual would ever label this band as one of profound intellect or articulated wisdom, but what RHCP can teach you extends far beyond clever wording. There is a true understanding of life to be found within these fruits, more so than any other band, where a connection to Mother Nature's core energy can develop into a telepathic chemistry between you and other human beings. In order to unlock these achievements, all you need to do is what the Red Hot Chili Peppers do, which is dance. Dance against any odds which the universe may roll to oppose you, and share your space with those you love. There should be no leaders in your friendships, rather an aura of security where ideas can be freely jammed out, liberated from judgment or preciousness, allowing the improvisational hands of allies to meddle with your artistic expressions, harnessing the abundant fertility of unrestrained collaboration and collective imagination. It may also help that their members have often included some of the best rock musicians the world has ever seen.

The numbers don’t lie. 80 million records sold. Six Grammys won. 13 number-one singles. 25 top-tens. 85 weeks at number one in total. Inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Officially the most successful alternative rock band in history who accomplished all of this by fusing themselves with funk and rap and metal and pop, which is not a mixture that happens by accident. Rather, this only happens when you die and come back to life so many times that you are probably immortal, point proven that this outfit are still going. I address you now, the reader, and assure you that little kids will be asking you about this band when you get older, which is why I implore you to turn your back on those hip friends who refuse to acknowledge RHCP's greatness. These guys are legends. Rockstar royalty. There is no shame in admitting this, let it all go. Be proud of your feelings. You love the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and you know you do. You've intentionally watched their music videos to the end. You've danced by yourself like Anthony Kiedis before. You’ve had some of the best times of your life with their music playing in the background. Never forget what they have done for you. Here are all their albums, ranked from worst to best.

11. The Red Hot Chili Peppers (1984)

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Like any undiscovered outfit who’s trying to offensively elbow their way to the top of some pyramid of recognition, the Chili’s debut wasn’t exactly the most effortless of projects. Founding pepper Hillel Slovak was absent due to other commitments (desensitising the revolving musician idea far too early in their career), and the lifeless production from Andy Gill fell short, unable to capture the live, youthful spirit which got the Chilis signed in the first place. This left us with one jammy demo-sounding offering from a silly little band who seemed lucky to have made it out of their garage—delightfully cute, for sure, yet with zero indication of what was to come, arguably the furthermost one could get from the biggest group on the planet at this point. Naturally, no one took it seriously, and this was fine, because no one ever asked you to, but the historians of hindsight have all agreed that this is an overlooked piece of importance, an unsung pioneer of the funk metal and rap rock phenomenon, while Flea’s repetitive funk bass lines slapped the shit out of the competition even way back when. Basically, at their worst, RHCP were still an underrated bit of fun.

10. Freaky Styley (1985)

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According to Flea, sophomore album Freaky Styley was "too funky for white radio, too punk rockin' for black," but it was a definite step forward for these Los Angeles boys, as they gradually sniffed out what it was they were looking for and then began to eagerly pursue it (and I'm not talking drugs here, although that was close behind). The legendary George Clinton was snatched up as the producer this round, and he was the ideal conductor to nurture the true funk within these youngsters, playing a father figure who approved their license to be as confidently idiotic as they so desired. Even better was that founding member Hillel Slovak had returned to the guitar seat and his liquid string-work effortlessly spilled their fluid all over the Chili blueprint. Meanwhile, Anthony’s unpretentious poetry was even more immature and erect than before, while the carefree trumpets which slipped between Flea’s signature pops proved that there was genuine talent hidden beneath this comical misbehaviour. They call it playing music for a reason, yeah? And yet (as with all early RHCP) the true joy comes in with how obviously oblivious this band were, the future of their inevitable fame impossibly far from their intentions, because no one would write songs this obscure for any financial purposes. Oh well, fuck ‘em just to see the look on their face, fuck ‘em just to see the look on their face.

09. I'm With You (2011)

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If nothing else, I’m With You is definitive proof of how collaborative the Peppers have always been, as every personality invited into the circle will somehow alter a fundamental component of the audio chemistry. After the creative authority of Frusciante had abandoned the cause for the second time, Josh Klinghoffer was recruited, and he was undoubtedly the best choice, the only choice, and the perfect choice. However, with these fresh ears came a lack of instrument confidence. There was a certain caution where his faint strings timidly tested their role, exploring their boundaries in a civilized fashion, unlike any RHCP guitarist who had come before. This proved to be the ideal window for Flea, who bullied the gentle Klinghoffer back into the shy of the mix, then shouldered his bass directly into the center stage, a luxurious domination that Mr Balzary was never granted before. Nevertheless, everyone was still dealing with the gaping John divorce, and despite putting all of the necessary hard work into the product, the overall forgettable wishy-washy quality and lack of any explosive hits on I’m With You fell over as the band’s lowest selling album in 20 years. However, I think this failure was primarily the public's fault. Truthfully, everyone had grown tired of Chili’s refusal to die at this point, and many were sick of their persistent radio presence, prompting an automated resistance towards any of their work, even the most respectable of songs immediately discarded as a mediocre snooze (which was only half true). Fantastic artwork though.

08. The Uplift Mofo Party Plan (1987)

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As a segment from the earliest of Chili Pepper stockpiles, their third album is often overlooked as yet another failed attempt at capturing the ever-elusive electrifying stage spirit that this band were quickly building a reputation upon. They were getting closer though, as this record's hyper-excitement smashed through the window with a much harder (almost metal) edge, louder than before, mindlessly slopping their colourful paint on everything, one helluva party! And yet, chip away the messy conglomerate of over-masculine cockiness splashing water out from the kiddie pool, and their mission of running amok still felt a little aimless and for-the-sake-of-it. Be that as it may, however, The Uplift Mofo Party Plan is still an extremely important landmark album in the Chili story, continuing along the trend of sharpening their craft and rapidly evolving per each release, taking more risks whilst slightly tweaking their energy levels by occasionally lifting their foot off of the pedal if the song called for it. Even more importantly, is that this is the only studio album in existence where every single track features all four of the RHCP founding members, partially because this was Slovak’s final artistic statement ever. Sadly, their guitarist passed away from a heroin overdose shortly after this release, and drummer Jack Irons understandably quit as a result, stating that he did not want to be part of a group where his friends were dying.

07. Stadium Arcadium (2006)

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When a band’s ego swells so large that it swallows its common sense like some fetal resorption, a double album is sure to follow, so please excuse me while I roll my eyes so dramatically that they make an audible sound. Although, to be fair, other bands didn't have Frusciante, and this is an imperative point as it is his minimalist guitar work which exclusively drives Stadium Arcadium, by densely layering itself upon itself with both eyes closed, all other components revolving his core, floating within a tender incarnation of everything everyone wanted RHCP to be. Predictably, a 2+ hour long meal will always be a calorific swallow (best consumed in two separate seatings, if you want my recommendation) but none of this hefty order felt forced. Instead, it was delivered to the table with creativity spilling over the brims of each radio-friendly song, with so much record space that they could casually spread every mood from their artistic history across the surface area, as if an accumulative statement summing up their entire career, and their final worthwhile fart on the matter. Sadly, this relentless weight of RHCP trademark upon RHCP trademark did eventually sound like a parody record, their latter-day safeness gone too far, and unsurprisingly, it loses steam by the end. This is not for lack of quality, mind you (the hits far outweigh the duds), but simply the sheer unreasonable quantity of it all, as everything loses its taste after a certain amount of chewing, and just how many Chilis were we expected to endure here anyway? Fuck, even Frusciante had enough at this point, quitting directly after this album, for realsies this time.

06. The Getaway (2016)

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After the stale I’m With You failed to impress anyone, the Chilis got such a fright that they immediately made some drastic changes to how things were going to be run around here. For starters, they fired two-decade strong producer Rick Rubin, employing the famed Danger Mouse to fiddle with their knobs instead, already forcing a shift directly at the entry point. After this, the humbled band regrouped themselves, approaching the problem cautiously as a team, laying back and focusing on their individual roles with a reduced ego, clearing a space where Josh could find a louder voice whilst Danger Mouse secretly added his mixed studio spice to vary the mellowing flavours. However, all of these calculated tactics and reserved attitudes could only nudge the old dogs slightly sideways, and the band’s eleventh studio record slid out as a relatively standard Pepper affair, the flame evidently long lost, yet a sturdy formula gained, one which knew how to manufacture a satisfying sound that could both hold a fanboy's happiness and keep the mouthy critics in a placid state. Negatively, (like most of their latter-day albums) The Getaway suffers from a bloated length, but (unlike most of their albums), it is a fillerless piece of work, impossible to decipher which songs should have been cut below others, with certain moments even skimming some former greatness. Undeniably, they’re still a highly skilled band, but it will never be what it was, and that’s why it really hurts.

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Worst to Best: Aerosmith

05. Mother's Milk (1989)

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The year was 1988 when founding guitarist Hillel Slovak overdosed on heroin and died, a mishap so terrifying that founding drummer Jack Irons withdrew his services too. This meant that the following record, Mother's Milk, introduced a 50% line-up change, a disastrous idea on paper which surprisingly turned out to be the most popular Pepper variation that the majority of people associate with the group today. The above-competent Chad Smith took skin duties, but it was truly John Frusciante (an eighteen-year-old Chili’s superfan/one of the greatest guitarists in the world) who made the largest dent in the entire history of RHCP. Frusciante’s confident string work oiled the existing parts that were already in motion, tightening the screws then turning the machine to face a more melodic direction, a bold refocus which, unfortunately, producer Michael Beinhorn didn’t quite understand. Instead, Beinhorn distorted the guitars and pushed this recording towards a more aggressive, hard rock stance, much to the band’s dismay. Nevertheless, it wasn't all bad, as this album does boast some of the group’s more tolerable production (a definite pricier studio quality which predated Rubin's march into the Loudness War), and the consequent benefits were instant: a cleaner Chili Pepper sound with an ever-developing catchiness in songwriting, growing slinky legs of its own and then tiptoeing closer to the mainstream, selling out venues, pissing old fans off, inviting new fans in, fame now within arm’s reach. Certainly, Peppers were always uniquely themselves, but this was where they got proficient at it, Mother's Milk remaining their most overlooked good record to this day.

04. Californication (1999)

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For many, Californication is prime Chili, their unrivaled finest hour, and a bonafide staple of late-90s musical culture—all of which are fair statements. Unfortunately, it was also this excessive talent which ultimately suffocated itself. The unignorable prowess of this album was so sticky that the radio and MTV would not stop stabbing it until the public’s own correlating memories overrode any former compositional worship, and in turn, we became sick of it. Thanks a lot, corporate media! What’s more, the best songs were so enormous that they accidentally toppled the lesser-than songs off of the ride, which stitched together a very patchy collection at best. Still, if you can recall those initial listens, you will evoke something truly magical in that American summer air. Frusciante had been living in a pit of near-fatal heroin addiction for eight years, and it was here that his brothers pulled him out, asking him to rejoin the band and employ his innovative restraint to meet Flea exactly halfway, their collaborative chemistry closer in tune here than anywhere else, period. Even Kiedis levitated above his trademark animalistic vulgarities into more thoughtful realms, complete with the vocal expansions to match it, and as one, they shot a syringe full of rejuvenation into their relevance. It was almost like a completely different band had appeared out of nowhere, a drastic sound change favouring a standard alternative pop-rock feel, a style which they’ve been running with ever since, and yet never quite coming as close to something as commercially successful as this.

03. One Hot Minute (1995)

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RHCP are the masters of channeling positive energy, but as we've already established, their backstory of drug addiction with members dying wasn’t exactly a hopscotch in the sunlight. By 1995, conditions were particularly bad, as Kiedis has fallen backwards into heroin again and Frusciante had left the band to pursue his own habit full-time, all the while there was this immense pressure to follow up their monster-hit record Blood Sugar, as bonafide famous rockstars for the very first time. Dave Navarro (the guitarist from Jane’s Addiction) was signed on as Frusciante's replacement and he immediately ruined their trademark funky fun by muddying the upbeat spirit with psychedelic metal and a brokenhearted darkness, the destruction of their misfortunate history finally weighing an album down into a muck of sadness. The natural dynamic was broken and the flow was throttled until the juices struggled to escape, exposing a dry, vulnerable crust of a band left behind, essentially just a depletion of junkies who were hardly hanging on. Due to this painful display, critics and fans were lukewarm to this somber manifestation until even the Chilis ignored its existence, firing Dave shortly after and hardly ever revisiting these songs live to this day. Interestingly enough, however, these circumstances eventually worked in One Hot Minute's favour, as it’s never been overplayed and is always overlooked as a uniquely uncomfortable part of their career, a gloomy place that the more sadistic of us adore as one of their best.

02. By the Way (2002)

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Take Californication and nourish that sophisticated awareness until it's all grown up. Pour water into the funk and stir beyond recognition. Massage the hard-hitting raps into softer melodies, kneading the mixture into a rich poppy bubblegum, ready to feed into the fickle jaws of radio audiences. Hollow out the reckless energy until you can see its ghost, hesitantly covering its face but beaming with sentimental love. This is not the Chili Peppers you signed up for. This is a charm so delicate that any former successes seem accidental, a lucky stumble now washed away by this gentle wave of mild emotion, a calculated smothering, an intentional submerging of their previous trademarks, disappearing beneath Frusciante’s warm textures to the point that Flea nearly handed in his resignation. Understandably, some people felt betrayed by how far we’ve strayed from the rhythmic grooves, cursing an inability to perform the usual monkey dances over this 60+ minute runtime, but not everyone. People like me embraced this as the most cohesively perfect record the band has ever developed within their unique chemistry set, a gift from the stars, and the pinnacle of the Red Hot Rollercoaster before it turned down to face the ground and begin its most monumental descend yet.

01. Blood Sugar Sex Magik (1991)

Spotify

Blood Sugar Sex Magik as a title may seem like some typical Kiedis buzzword drivel, but independently, each word sums up the four pillars of this record impeccably. There’s a newfound blood on this album, not only in terms of a deeper brotherhood connection, but also with Anthony’s pattering into softer territories, cracking open his primitive macho shell to offer us an introspective glimpse towards his demons and track marks. Conversely, around every corner is a mountain of sugar ready to raise your glucose levels so high that you’ll bounce off the walls, smashing through them at hyperspeed, you're still an animal on drugs after all. Of course, the sex was always an integral stain on the Pepper fabric, but with BSSM it’s an exaggerated blurt of vulgar innuendos like some poetic pervert malfunctioning in public. And finally, there’s the magik, where the telepathic chemistry of Frusciante’s inventive textures flow between Flea’s signature dominating slap grooves, everybody flexing their biggest muscles without getting in one another’s way, a metaphysical presence that is easier explained by some spiritual voodoo. Place Rubin in charge of the desk for the first time, and we have the Red Hot Chili Peppers, climaxing in the face of a sound they invented, well practiced, now perfected, immediately blasting them into superstardom where they still orbit us from today.

If you'd like to hear my favourite songs from each of these albums, you can! Here is a little 94 song 6h29m Spotify playlist just for you. Don't worry about it.

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10 Lesser-Known Side Effects of Quitting Smoking

In my six months of ghostwriting assorted health-related articles around the web (over 90 to date), there has only ever been one submission which was flat-out rejected. There was no "would you mind writing this in a different voice?" or "could you please include more references?". Rather, it was a simple "we can't use this, Jared".

Admittedly, I kinda knew this was going to happen on some deeper stomach level. Perhaps I was testing the bathwater, seeing how hot I could run it, and trying to find the boundaries of professionalism. I found some! And maybe that's a good thing. God knows what I would be writing now if they had decided to use this fucking piece, or maybe God doesn't even know, and never will. Rather, what happened was a fat slap with a big red STOP sign, complete with an added footnote which highlighted how my article may scare people into smoking more, and from any ethical health standpoint, that was not something to proudly make money out of.

I completely understood. This was a reasonable response. Yet I was still offended. You see, having recently quit smoking myself, I felt betrayed by the common modern-day text on the matter, forever clicking their fingers in the sky, pointing towards the endless array of physical benefits one might find by spitting out these cancerous sticks of joy. But their hands hid the truth behind their backs. The truth! Which was, simply put, that quitting smoking sucks, and in ways far beyond those nagging nicotine cravings. Hence why I wrote this article! It had become my primary mission to inform other people of what I had discovered! An admirable quest with only one fatal flaw: I was trying to get paid for it.

On that note, here it is, spreading awareness from the smallest platform I have at my disposal. Educate yourself, prepare yourself for battle, and good luck. Here are 10 lesser-known side effects of quitting smoking, written in American.

1. You May Get the Flu
Officially dubbed “smoker’s flu”, you might develop a tight chest, sore throat, and a nasty cough, even worse than when you were smoking. This is a good thing though, as the tar covering the cilia (those tiny hairs in your lungs) is breaking down and hacking up in the form of repulsively dark phlegm. Unfortunately, there is no easy way to deal with this, so just get plenty of rest and wait for it to leave in its own time.

2. You May Suffer From Terrible Headaches
While your inner serotonin chemistry attempts to adjust itself back to normality, you might experience a plethora of interesting reactions. One may feel dazed, fatigued, sleepy, unable to concentrate, or could even suffer from migraines. In these tough times, use painkillers as per their instructions, and ensure you don’t skip on any sleeping hours.

3. Your Emotions Will Scream
Make no mistake: your cravings will call out from their empty pit of despair, begging for a cigarette, which can result in a very volatile emotional state. You may lose your temper in one breath, and want to cry in the next, but do not fear. Simply ask your loved ones for some understanding, and keep in mind that the first few days are always the most intense.

4. You May Struggle to Sleep
For the first week or so, it might be difficult to fall asleep. You may also wake up more often during the night, and experience the common recurring nightmare where you accidentally smoke a cigarette. The good news is that (once you settle back into it), you will ultimately sleep much better than you did as a smoker, and a healthy sleep equals a healthier life. Until then, experiment with different sleeping products until you find something which works best for you.

5. You May Become Constipated
Nicotine triggers bowel movement, and because of this, cigarettes do help smokers stay regular. When you suddenly remove this factor from your system, your digestive organs need time to adapt, which could result in abdominal pains and constipation. Fight this with warm teas, fruit, and exercise, or talk to a professional about medicinal options.

6. You May Gain Weight
After years of habitually raising your hand to your mouth to get a smoke-flavor fix, your mind has been trained well, which is why so many individuals swap one addiction for another, turning to food in hopes that this will fill the bottomless pit in their chest (it won’t). Use this compulsion to your advantage, by trading chips for carrots and soda for water.

7. Nicotine Replacements Might Not Work
Unfortunately, researchers at the Harvard School of Public Health reported that gum and patches don’t help ex-smokers in the long run. That said, the removal of your routine cigarette ritual may be useful for some, but just remember that you are still ultimately feeding into the nicotine addiction itself.

8. You Will Have More Time (for Better or Worse)
Without all those smoke breaks and moments wasted as your mind fantasizes about your next puff, you will be surprised at how much free space your schedule suddenly has. This may sound great on paper, but during your initial days of cravings, this additional time could become your most annoying enemy. The trick? Distract yourself!

9. Your Senses Will Return
You should find that your senses of taste and smell come back to you rather rapidly. Once this happens, many of your favorite foods may suddenly become too sweet or too salty. Furthermore, when in the presence of another smoker, you will realize how badly you used to stink, which should at least encourage you to stick to your path of liberation.

10. You Will Get Your Life Back
Most importantly of all, once you get over the initial hump, every aspect of your life will improve dramatically. Your health will return, your sex drive will return, you will look better, you will smell better, you will have more money, you will have more energy, and you will no longer be forced to endure cravings through painful meetings or stand in the rain just to get your fix. Simply put: once you kick this demon, you will feel like an idiot that it took you so long to do so.


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