Treble's Best Albums of the 70s

by Treble Staff; intro by Jeff Terich; photo by Candice Eley

08.28.2005





Last year, Treble made a historical visit back to the Golden Age of Rock `n' Roll with our Best of the 1960s feature, one so successful (and fun, too, I might add) that we took it one decade further this year with our compilation of our 100 favorite albums of the 1970s. Rather than do it as a straight 100 list, we sectioned off our ten favorites from each year. We felt it was more important to focus on the decade year-by-year. But before we get to the music, it's important to get some perspective on the decade in which both disco and punk were born.

When 1970 had hit, the Vietnam war was still raging. The hippie movement was dying down but things weren't necessarily getting any better. And as such, the '70s, in many societies, are viewed as a transitional period. Not as revolutionary as the '60s, not as conservative as the '80s, the polyester decade was an odd period of time for the world.

Before technology had begun to boom in the '80s and '90s, the spark was lit in the '70s, with the earliest forms of personal computers, calculators, home video game systems, Pong, and the beginning of Microsoft. Even rotary telephones had been made obsolete with the touch-tone system. Meanwhile, space exploration expanded, Apollo missions to the moon continuing, as well as unmanned spacecraft being sent to Mars and Venus. The space shuttle was also developed during this time, but it wasn't actually launched until 1981.

Around the world, the political and social climate was still pretty volatile after all that went on in the years prior. It was in 1972 when we learned of Watergate, which eventually led to President Richard Nixon's resignation shortly thereafter. In the United Kingdom, Margaret Thatcher was elected the first female prime minister. In Spain, dictator Francisco Franco died, opening the gates for the first established democracy in the country. Cambodian leader Pol Pot was ousted by the Vietnamese after the Khmer Rouge was responsible for the deaths of nearly 1.7 million people through execution, starvation or forced labor. And Patty Hearst was taken hostage by the Symbionese Liberation Army and made one of their own.

Clearly, things had gotten strange in the 1970s, and yet the art that was created was beyond compare. In film, George Lucas' Star Wars premiered in 1977, while Spielberg, Scorsese and Coppola had also debuted with some of their greatest films, including Jaws, Taxi Driver and The Godfather, respectively. But things changed dramatically in the world of music, possibly more so than any other art form at the time. The singer-songwriter movement emerged after the more politically-conscious acts of the previous decade began to wane. Progressive rock also made headway, Pink Floyd, Genesis and Rush leading the way. Then came disco, which saw a backlash shortly thereafter. And two of the biggest contributions to the world of music also made their debut in the '70s: punk and hip-hop.

With such a powerful change in the world of music, the 1970s make for a fascinating decade, one that spawned hundreds of great albums. We created a list of 100, 10 of which we will be posting each day for the next two weeks. Treble will, of course, do this in a chronological fashion, starting with 1970. We couldn't, however, include everything and many of our own personal favorites were ultimately cut: James Taylor, Janis Joplin, The Man Who Sold the World, Caetano Veloso, Mott the Hoople, Elton John, Billy Joel, Paul Simon, News of the World, The Damned, The Human League, Gary Numan, X-Ray Spex, In the City, Some Girls, Willie Nelson, Van Halen, Michael Jackson, Al Green, The Beach Boys, Paris 1919, Sparks, AC/DC, Magazine, Darkness on the Edge of Town, Swell Maps, The Pop Group, Lodger and The Slits.

Without further adieu, the list, part one:

1970

10. Jimi Hendrix — Band of Gypsys (Capitol)

Throughout history, only a few live albums have ever made as many waves as their studio counterparts. Johnny Cash's Live at San Quentin revealed the intensity and tension of the country great's live performance. Jeff Buckley's Mystery White Boy let us hear what could have been. And Jimi Hendrix's Band of Gypsys was the only live performance Hendrix ever officially released, as a contractual way out, no less. It was the last of Hendrix's releases before his death, and let us hear a man and his band (albeit short lived) at their peak one New Year's Eve. Listening to the Gypsys' soulful blues showed a new side of Hendrix's rockin' sound, while also providing countless new uses for effects pedals. Just listen to "Machine Gun." The man was doing all that crazy guitar acrobatics shit long before Tom Morello tried to pass it off as his own. — Jeff Terich


9. Van Morrison — Moondance (Warner Bros.)

In today's music scene you can get away with buying just one song, ala iTunes. Being obsessed with music myself, I understand this desire. But when it comes to Moondance, you need the whole album. With subjects such as the awe and innocence of youth in the first track "And it Stoned Me," to the thinly veiled sexuality of the title track, Van Morrison's buttery croon and equally guttural vocals leave no facet of the human condition unexplored. — Nicole Grotepas
(Read Review)


8. Simon & Garfunkel — Bridge Over Troubled Water (Columbia)

Bridge Over Troubled Water is a masterpiece of pop, of songwriting, of grief and youth and everything else Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel made it their business to write about. It's their final masterpiece, too, and aptly lays out the fullest spectrum of their musical development throughout the '60s. You can hear the internationalism of New York on this record, in a way—the teeming, fighting voices, coming from corners of rooms and out of lonely subway stations, of every shape and tone, and yet all distinctly the work of S&G. — Andrew Good
(Read Review)


7. George Harrison — All Things Must Pass (Apple)

George Harrison is an amazingly talented songwriter / guitarist / spiritual being, and All Things Must Pass is one of those albums that come along once in a lifetime. Near every song is a timeless piece of art, holding up just as well today as it did then. Usually when one listens to songs of the 70's, there is a sense of the distant past, bad clothes, hair and styles. I've heard "My Sweet Lord" and "Wah-Wah" on radios in shops and delis at various times and always felt that the songs were timeless. I can listen to Harrison's twanging lead guitar and mellow voice no matter what mood I'm in, and somehow he makes it all seem brighter. — Terrance Terich
(Read Review)


6. John Lennon — Plastic Ono Band (Apple)

In the shadow of the Beatles' disintegration, John and Yoko spent four months at Arthur Janov's Primal Institute, during which time John wrote an album's worth of personal, emotionally direct songs. Co-produced with Phil Spector (showing severe restraint), The Plastic Ono Band reveals a Lennon sifting through the past that has accompanied him through the many phases of Beatledom, and confronting, be it through hushed introspection or angry condemnation, the many soporifics by which he has been tempted. — Tyler Parks
(Read Review)


5. The Stooges — Fun House (Elektra)

The Stooges' debut album, though a loud and burly one, didn't truly capture the untamed fury of the Detroit band's performances. So to truly make an album as brutal and painful as Fun House, they had to ditch previous producer John Cale and take it back to rock `n' roll's roots, asking Kingsmen keyboardist Don Gallucci to fill-in instead. Like peas in a sloppy, noisy pod, The Stooges and Gallucci clicked, creating as fierce and merciless a record as anyone could have thought possible. — Jeff Terich
(Read Review)


4. The Velvet Underground — Loaded (Cotillion-Atlantic)

The story goes that a well-meaning label exec requested Lou Reed, who was pointman for the band at that point, to create an album "loaded with hits." In essence, it's everything the Velvets first set out not to be—conventional, bright pop-rock that would cruise easily on the AM stations. Happy though this may be, it was no mere accident. John Cale left after White Light/White Heat, and without his raucous presence, Reed's laser-sight introspection took over the band's focus. Their third, self-titled album seemed to provide ample space for his tender balladeering and gloomy navel-gazing; by 1970, Reed was ready to rock out again, and rock out he did. — Andrew Good
(Read Review)


3.The Beatles — Let It Be (Apple)

Listening to the Phil Spector-produced Let it Be, one inevitably wonders about what could have been. "Two of Us," the bare Lennon-McCartney opener, is free from walls of sound and, with its lyrics of homecoming, point toward the original intent of the Get Back sessions. The chorus of "I Me Mine," and to some extent "One After 909," also achieve some of that in-studio rawness. Yet sadly, the possibilities of the throwback Get Back album are lost. Even 2003's Let it Be... Naked, as great as McCartney's denuded version is, can't exactly match what the band might have produced had death and business and creative differences not split them apart. Taking this swansong as is, there are still moments of grace and beauty becoming of a Beatles release that cannot be denied. — Hubert Vigilla
(Read Review)


2.Nick Drake — Bryter Layter (Island)

The follow-up to Drake's 1969 debut Five Leaves Left is a further exercise in the power of subtlety. Joined by members of Fairport Convention, including Richard Thompson, Drake composes some of the most introspective singer/songwriter material of that or any time in songs like "At the Chime of a City Clock," "Fly," and "One of These Things First." Fans of Elliott Smith and Belle and Sebastian, it's only a matter of time until you become obsessed with Drake, that is if you aren't already. — Terrance Terich
(Read Review)


1.Neil Young — After the Gold Rush (Reprise)

By 1970, Neil Young had already achieved great success with Buffalo Springfield and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. But it wasn't until After the Gold Rush that he truly began to show off his songwriting talents. Short on length, but long on great songs, it was Young's first perfect album, one that has remained both fresh and classic for 35 years. — Jeff Terich
(Read Review)

1971

10. Leonard Cohen — Songs of Love & Hate (Columbia)

Welcome to the world of Leonard Cohen, where the sun don't shine, the flowers don't bloom and the red wine flows freely and we, as listeners, are all the better for it. Songs of Love and Hate is one the most depressingly beautiful albums ever recorded, including odes to that sexy virgin Joan of Arc and one of the most heartbreaking songs about infidelity ever written. — Molly B. Eichel

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9. Led Zeppelin — IV (Atlantic)

Jimmy Page was "immersed in Crowley's uniform of imagery," living in his former, and supposedly haunted, castle when the band took on four runes as their symbolic representations and recorded and released one of the most successful records of all time. I'd be surprised if it wasn't in your collection already, and if it isn't, don't tell anybody. Just go out and get it right now. I'll wait. — Terrance Terich


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8. Can — Tago Mago (United Artists)

Take four German musicians, add a Japanese busker on vocal duties, let them play 18 minute epics, 12 minute free-jams and some four-minute funk and what do you get? Tago Mago, the definitive Can album, and the definitive introduction to German prog-rock, or what is also known as "krautrock." Though some may lump Can with the likes of Rush and Pink Floyd, Can deserves much better. Can was too far ahead of their time to actually have any true "peers." — Jeff Terich
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7. Sly & The Family Stone — There's a Riot Going On (Epic)

With the dream of the sixties all but dead, Sly and his crew expressed their dismay at the demise of society as they saw it. With Sly himself sinking into the perils of drug addiction, he managed to put out an album that was ever so socially aware, serving as the yang to the yin of Marvin Gaye's What's Going On. — Chris Pacifico


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6. The Who —Who's Next (Decca)

Ignore the fact that the original title of the project that led to Who's Next was called Lifehouse. Ignore the fact that the AOR band of the same name sucks something fierce. Ignore the fact that Who's Next is the primer for overblown stadium rock dinosaur-ism. The only important thing here is just how loud and utterly enormous this album is. Daltrey, Townshend, Entwistle and Moon had come a long way since their stuttering mod-pop days and created an album as gigantic as the monolith on the album's cover. And much like its 2001 counterpart, along with its presence came a mighty primate (Keith Moon) smashing the fuck out of a pile of bones (his drum set), and thus, Who's Next was born. Bookended by the album's two best-known songs, "Baba O'Riley" and "Won't Get Fooled Again," this collection sees synthesizers making their way into the band's oeuvre, which may have been the beginning of something truly awful in rock music of the decade. Still, then it was novel. It was interesting. And it was loud. — Jeff Terich

5. Rolling Stones — Sticky Fingers (Rolling Stones)

In the '60s the Stones played perpetual second fiddle to the Beatles, but now that the Fab Four had frayed and fractioned, Jagger, Richards and company would play second fiddle to no one (only to discover that Led Zeppelin would take their blues riffs to other extremes). Sticky Fingers was considered a sloppy and drug addled follow-up to the brilliance of Let it Bleed, but songs like "Wild Horses," "Brown Sugar," and "Moonlight Mile" prove otherwise. — Terrance Terich
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4. John Lennon — Imagine (Apple)

Imagine's tracklist is framed between a dream and a celebration; the former for utopia, the latter for the redemptive powers of romantic love. Lennon's most popular album -- which he admits may be due in part to a certain poppy, sugar-coating -- Imagine, even with its bursts of angst, is ultimately something gorgeously hopeful. — Hubert Vigilla


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3. T. Rex — Electric Warrior (Reprise)

For Marc Bolan, it was all about girls and cars. And dancing. And rock `n' roll. And outer space; A little mythology too. Marc Bolan's lyrics, albeit brief, seemed to stick to these topics, primarily. Sex and driving seemed to blur together, merging in a hot, dirty sexy rock `n' roll melting pot. And underneath that melting pot was some of the most rockin' music ever recorded and the beginning of the genre we now know as "glam rock." — Jeff Terich
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2. Marvin Gaye — What's Going On? (Motown)

A major turning point in his career, Marvin Gaye's masterpiece also served as a wake up call for America to realize that it was not on the right track. Issues brought to the table include police brutality, racism, poverty, and the agonizing peril of the ghettos in the backyard of the common folk who ignore their neighbors' suffering. And of course Gaye expressed himself in a lush and soulful manner that made him the true class act that was until his untimely death in 1984. — Chris Pacifico
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1. David Bowie — Hunky Dory (RCA)

Hunky Dory was David Bowie's chrysalis, the cocoon from whence Ziggy Stardust emerged, featuring a mixture of glam, folk and rock that would soon gel into the impresario's most famous incarnation. Most bought this album for the single "Changes," but the real reason for multiple plays were the brilliant "Quicksand," "Queen Bitch" and "Life on Mars?" — Terrance Terich

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Personal Best

Serge Gainsbourg — Histoire de Melody Nelson (Philips)

Music's quintessential dirty old man, French songster Serge Gainsbourg, released what many have seen as his most impressive, yet most disturbing, album in 1971. Histoire de Melody Nelson, a concept record about a man's love affair with a teenage girl, begins with the man almost taking out the lass in his Bentley as she's riding her bike. The album then degenerates into a naughty, Nabokov-ian love affair, set to a laid-back, somewhat funky groove. As Gainsbourg whispers about his young lover, Jane Birkin (Serge's real-life sweetheart) giggles orgasmically on an otherwise vocal-less track. Even the cover art depicts a topless, barefoot nymphet clutching a stuffed monkey, suggesting both sexuality and childhood simultaneously. Gainsbourg was later buried with that very monkey at his funeral, but the influence of Melody lives on. Air, Beck and David Holmes have all appropriated the grooves on this album in some way or another, and I can understand why. This is, hands down, one of the coolest-sounding records in history. — Jeff Terich

Joni Mitchell — Blue (Reprise)

I was born the year that Joni Mitchell's Blue was released. I take comfort in this fact. The album had been on the shelves for over three months when I was brought into the world. Something tells me that this is more than mere karma or kismet. Two of my biggest loves are poetry and music and Mitchell blends the two perfectly. The songs on Blue resonate and ache with personal poetry. From the bookends of the head over heels love song "All I Want" to the heartbreaking loss in "The Last Time I Saw Richard," the album runs the gamut of feelings and emotions that represent what it is to be human. "River" is one of my favorite songs of all time and is included in our "Best Songs of the '70s" feature. — Terrance Terich

Harry Nilsson — Nilsson Schmilsson (RCA)

Good ol' Harry stands, pipe in hand, clad in a bathrobe, pondering his day. He actually looks like the narrator of "Gotta Get Up," the leadoff track on Nilsson Schmilsson. He might be hungover, begrudgingly facing the day slowly, but doing so nonetheless. Nilsson was "shambolic" before the word was bastardized by NME, singing about having to go about his day and live life, be it ever so banal and uninspiring. But the music-hall burlesque of that track was, contrarily, a magnificent and super-joyous opener to Nilsson's first true masterpiece. He had been accused of being "Beatles-lite" but Nilsson offered so much more. An ace songwriter, his tunes on Schmilsson included the hard rocking "Jump Into the Fire," the touching ballad "I'll Never Leave You" and the druggy, silly "Coconut." Let's not forget about some of the covers he included, like the soulful "Early in the Morning" and the old-school rock `n' roll of "Let the Good Times Roll." Simple, warm and fuzzy, Nilsson Schmilsson is an album guaranteed to relieve you of your bellyache. — Jeff Terich

1972

10. T. Rex — The Slider (EMI)

T. Rex was one of the most important bands of the `70s, essentially inventing the glam rock movement and influencing everything in its wake. The Slider is T. Rex at their peak, showcasing everything from hard rockers to softer ballads, booming yawps to orgasmic grunts. T. Rex leader Marc Bolan is, for lack of a better word, a weird guy and on The Slider, he allows you to enter his fantastical world of mystic ladies and metal gurus. Don't you want to experience a little T. Rextasy of your own? – Molly B. Eichel
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9. Big Star — #1 Record (Stax)

Big Star's #1 Record was anything but. Catchy, beautiful and poorly marketed, it has since been secluded to "cult" status. Still, they played an integral part in influencing underground music. Artists ranging from Elliott Smith to the Replacements to The Posies count Big Star as a major jumping off point, and why shouldn't they? With pop songs as perfect as "Thirteen," "The Ballad of El Goodo" and "When My Baby's Beside Me," they left a tempting model to emulate. — Jeff Terich
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8. Neil Young — Harvest (Reprise)

What was the best selling album of 1972 as well as that of Young's career stood out to be one of the choicest cuts of his entire discography. Having recorded the album before and after back surgery, confined to a wheelchair in the studio while under heavy sedation, Young's lyrics showed the world a piece of his soul. With a tender country-rock foundation Young addresses the issues of love, life, and the loss of Crazy Horse bandmate Danny Whitten to the perils of substance abuse. Although he was already a rock and roll visionary for the over half a decade prior to its release Harvest marked the beginning of Neil Young span as a legend whose music has and will continue to go forth into generations ahead of its time. — Chris Pacifico
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7. Stevie Wonder — Talking Book (Motown)

Having already twelve albums to his name, some of them under the modifier "Little" (meaning if it were released today he'd be Li'l), Stevie Wonder was only 22 years old when Talking Book was released. The funk and soul of "Superstition" made Wonder a superstar, "You are the Sunshine of My Life" was perfect for repeated radio play and "I Believe (When I Fall in Love It Will Be Forever)" was a gospel epic that blew people's minds back then and even now as it plays over the closing credits of the film High Fidelity. — Terrance Terich
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6. Roxy Music — Roxy Music (Reprise)

Roxy Music is a daring, challenging release thanks in large part to Brian Eno. It's one of those albums that pushes the boundaries of the medium, mutating the flesh and bones of rock and roll. It is a mish-mash, an artsy hobo's slumgullion, a wicked little animal made of familiar parts yet not wholly resembling anything its ancestry might suggest. It is the okapi of the great albums of the 1970s. — Hubert Vigilla
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5. Curtis Mayfield — Superfly (Curtom)

The first of many blaxploitation films to be known more for its soundtrack than its actual visual content, Superfly saw Curtis Mayfield making the album of his career. Creating a backdrop for the story of a pusher trying to get out of the game, Mayfield made a funk symphony, a gigantic soul record with grooves and hooks galore. And deep within the solid beats and basslines, there lies a hopeful, optimistic message. — Jeff Terich
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4. Rolling Stones — Exile on Main Street (Rolling Stones)

While not in Kid A territory as stylistic departures go, the very length and breadth of music on offer makes Exile on Main Street a less obviously marketable proposition than The Rolling Stones' previous material. It shifts between straightforward rockers, acoustic country tinged blues and R&B torch songs. The opening "Rocks Off" is a hell of a tune, a fantastically ridiculous statement of intent exacerbated by its "sunshine bores the daylights out of me" line. It's tempting to just listen to track one on repeat until you erase yourself a bit. Some of the tracks sound a little dated ("Sweet Black Angel" anyone?), but that's part of the deal with the formative period of anything. — Thomas Lee
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3. David Bowie — The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars (RCA)

Containing no fewer than three of our chosen "Best Songs Ever" of the '70s, it was obvious from the get-go that Ziggy Stardust would make it to one of the more respectable positions on our Best Albums list. A concept album with a very loose concept, Ziggy made glam rock into a sprawling, epic work of art, all without pushing the 5 minute song length limit. Depending on which side of the Bowie canon you prefer, this may or may not be the best album he ever released. And if you were really paying attention, it may or may not be the best album anyone has released. — Jeff Terich
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2. Lou Reed — Transformer (RCA)

In 1972, when Transformer debuted, everyone who bought it heard an album that was uniform in its dirty, dark power. It must have been a welcome relief to those who had followed Reed's career until then—his first solo work, 1971's Lou Reed, proved somewhat flat, and left many thinking he might not recover from his fissure with the Velvets the year before. — Andrew Good
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1. Nick Drake — Pink Moon (Island)

There's always been a lot of hyperbole over Pink Moon often focusing on its bleakness. I suppose it's inevitable given that this was the last non-posthumous Nick Drake album, with a more lo-fi nature than its older siblings and his continued relative obscurity. Pink Moon does feature the occasional sparse message, but the album offers so much more than that. — Thomas Lee
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Personal Best

Can — Ege Bamyasi (United Artists)

Can reached their peak with their oddly named fourth album, Ege Bamyasi. The third album with singer Damo Suzuki, it represented a strangely accessible, yet oddly experimental side of the band. It was, at times, playful. At others, it was far more chaotic. But as a whole, it's one of the most impressive and enjoyable albums of the progressive rock era. It even garnered them a hit with the motorik-grooved "Spoon," whose title later lent itself to the band's own record label. Ege Bamyasi is also one of Can's funkiest albums, which gives further evidence that they were much more fun than many of their dragon-slaying British contemporaries. — Jeff Terich
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Black Sabbath — Vol. 4 (Warner Bros.)

Long before Ozzy Osbourne was biting the heads off of animals and making a crappy reality TV show with his two drug-addict kids (the apple never falls far from the tree), he was pioneering the sound for heavy metal to come. On Vol. 4 we see the boys from Birmingham in the midst of their prime and with blizzard in their nasal cavities. This was riff rock at its best and was also the beginning of the end for Black Sabbath. — Chris Pacifico
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1973

10. Bob Marley and the Wailers — Burnin' (Tuff Gong)

On every album that he made with the Wailers, Bob Marley showed solidarity with his fellow countrymen and managed to make the true reggae sound evolve each time. But Burnin' released in 1973 is still today the most genuine definition of the roots reggae sound. It is the fourth effort with the Wailers and the last one with the legendary original lineup featuring Bunny Wailer and Peter Tosh, both who went on to have a good deal of success in their solo careers as well as become prominent dignitaries of reggae in their own rites. — Chris Pacifico
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9. Tom Waits — Closing Time (Asylum)

One of the sexiest things about Tom Waits is that he is so versatile. Not only in his music, but also as Tom, the person. I envision Tom walking into a five-star swanky restaurant and looking right at home. I also see him completely in his element hanging out with the local barflies in a smoky, dirty truck stop, placed in the middle of nowhere. His first album, Closing Time, is an album for anyone for anytime of your life. This album has the power to flip on a switch in your brain, and want to consume it no matter what emotions you seem to be experiencing at your current juncture. — Ayn Averett
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8. Lou Reed — Berlin (RCA)

Ah, Berlin, one of the most pleasantly depressing albums committed to tape. The disintegration of a relationship catalogued with all the vulgarity and enmity reserved for the truly great—those who inspire us by making us writhe, at once, with discomfort and voyeuristic joy. Full of drugs, violence and characters inspiring uninhibited ambivalence, this little melodrama elicits our approval even when inspiring our spleen. — Tyler Parks
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7. New York Dolls — New York Dolls (Mercury)

New York Dolls is a proto-punk masterpiece created by a band of hard-partying freaks, in heels no less! The New York Dolls essentially invented punk rock and without them, today's pop music would be vastly different. Hairspray and lipstick aside, the New York Dolls were able to take slices of Americana and transform them into something that was unmistakably the Dolls'. What is even more impressive is they did all this in a few scant years and without even allowing their mascara to run. — Molly B. Eichel
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6. Led Zeppelin — Houses of the Holy (Atlantic)

So maybe the Mighty Led Zeppelin would never be able to top the song by song majesty of their untitled fourth album, but they would come pretty close with Physical Graffiti and this "tight, but loose" epic album. Thirty years later and we're still trying to figure out the naked children on the album cover. Plus, Zep goes reggae! — Terrance Terich
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5. Stevie Wonder — Innervisions (Tamla – Motown)

Combining the socially conscious theme of What's Going On, the solid grooves of Superfly and the diverse palette of The White Album, Stevie Wonder made a crowning achievement in soul music in 1973. The music on Innervisions revealed a wider spectrum of music than ever thought possible, and made for some of Wonder's most beloved songs ("Higher Ground," "Golden Lady"). It also may have saved Wonder's life after he was injured in a car accident. This album just might save your life as well. — Jeff Terich
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4. Pink Floyd — Dark Side of the Moon (Harvest)
Some may argue it's the best album of all time, some may not. Either way, Dark Side of the Moon could be proof that drugs are good: had Syd Barrett not left the band due to his deteriorating mental condition (undoubtedly brought on by drug use), creating a need that David Gilmour filled. . . well, would Dark Side of the Moon exist now, in 2005? Would I even be writing this review? Who's to say? But music history would be a drab place indeed without this seminal—not to mention phenomenal—album.— Nicole Grotepas
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3. Roxy Music — For Your Pleasure (Warner Bros.)

In this corner, sporting a bow tie, a reverence for good old fashioned rock `n' roll and a gravity-defying pompadour, Bryan Ferry, glam-rock's smoothest crooner. And in this corner, clad in frilly space suits, an iconoclastic attitude toward music and a skullet, Brian Eno, the mad scientist of pop music. Alright, fellas, touch gloves and let's make one of the weirdest, but most influential records in British rock `n' roll. Now, let's keep it clean! — Jeff Terich
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2. David Bowie — Aladdin Sane (RCA)

A title inspired in part by Bowie's schizophrenic brother and the need to create a new persona post-Ziggy, much of Aladdin Sane's oddness may come from the fact it was written while his band was on the road. Bowie was taxed and torn by the rigors of extensive touring and wanted to push his musical mojo and explore new territory. Mike Garson's contribution to Aladdin Sane is also responsible for the album's swings toward the avant-garde and eccentric. The end results are a strange batch that skips and hops to its own whims often laced with a sense of decay and unease, everything tethered together by Bowie's lunatic and lovely lyricism. — Hubert Vigilla
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1. Iggy and the Stooges — Raw Power (Columbia)

Iggy, or the man the hipsters simply call "Jim," is about a buck-oh-five of vocal fury and nowhere was it more evident than on the fiery Raw Power. With "assistance" from friend David Bowie, Pop reconvened the Stooges for one last time before they were to call it quits, and created a monolith of guitar rock and the genesis of a thousand genres. — Terrance Terich
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1974

10. Randy Newman — Good Old Boys (Reprise)

Randy Newman has one of those voices that you either love or hate, and usually takes offense to cracks about his vocal style. Considering the adoration of such original voices as Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash, I don't blame him. Now more famous for film scores, he is also one of the most gifted and imaginative singer / songwriters around. In a time when Billy Joel and Elton John ruled the piano pop charts, Newman snuck in the back door with his smart New Orleans style songwriting of the early seventies. Nowhere were these styles so potent or Newman's wit so scathing, than on his fourth proper album, Good Old Boys . Neil Young may have started the South bashing, but Newman took it to the next level by singing the over-the-top rednecks in the first person. "We're rednecks, we're rednecks, we don't know our ass from a hole in the ground / we're rednecks, we're rednecks, and we're keeping the niggers down." This and other lyrics about southerners being dumb (even when they come out of LSU, he sings) and outright racist caused quite a stir, as people didn't take it for parody. Newman varies between funny, biting and touching on the album, the latter in the form of the wonderful "Louisiana 1927," about the devastating flood that hit the state in August of that year. This song is worth the price of the album alone. — Terrance Terich

9. Kraftwerk — Autobahn (Philips)

Kraftwerk's influence on the latter half the music of the Twentieth Century is staggering. Their use of synthesizers is as important as the day Les Paul decided it would be pretty cool to plug his guitar into an amplifier. Listen to a rather current song that uses electronics, if even in the slightest degree, and remove them and you are left with the dreary world of music that would not exist without Kraftwerk. — Molly B. Eichel
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8.John Cale — Fear (Island)

As a member of the Velvet Underground, John Cale played up the avant garde, utilizing his classical training to deconstruct a more traditional norm. As a solo performer, however, his music was decidedly more straightforward. Or was it? Listening to Cale, one can dissect the hooks, make out a structure, even sing along. But normal? Hardly. John Cale could turn "Louie, Louie" into a work of abstraction, and on Fear, he did the impossible: take three chord songs and turn them into something much more complex, artful and strikingly original. — Jeff Terich
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7. Brian Eno — Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy) (EG)

It may appear that David Bowie would have the most appearances on this list. And technically, that's not incorrect if you count the small parts he played on Raw Power and Transformer. But he's tied with Eno, who is credited as a performer, songwriter or producer on at least ten of our Best Albums of the 70s. And looking back at Taking Tiger Mountain, his second solo pop album, it's no wonder. Brilliantly skewed hooks, odd effects, ominous themes and playful experimentation all contributed to this album's greatness. And if there truly was one artist that owned the '70s, it was Eno. — Jeff Terich
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6. Tom Waits — The Heart of Saturday Night (Asylum)

The Heart of Saturday Night saw Tom Waits take the smoky balladry of debut Closing Time and polish it into a refined, slightly offbeat singer-songwriter offering. Equal parts jazz-pop, shadowy construct, and beat caricature, this record fills my headphones like a dense broom cupboard of sound. Waits' delivery occupies it well, too. His voice echoed a richer, tuneful Nashville Skyline era Dylan more than a demonic woodsman, and it's the perfect tool for the post-bar, post-adolescence nocturnal stories featured here. — Tom Lee
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5. Big Star — Radio City (Stax)

In part two of the Big Star trilogy, we find Chris Bell leaving the band, asking for his name not to be included on the recordings that became Radio City. Alex Chilton would develop a nasty drug habit, and the band would eventually lose their label. And what's more, hardly anybody was buying their records. And yet, the rockin', yet strangely tense pop on Radio City seemed destined for fame. It eventually did become legendary, much later on, after the band had long since called it quits, but at the time, nobody could have possibly fathomed the impact that this second, transitional and then-obscure album would have. — Jeff Terich
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4. David Bowie - Diamond Dogs (RCA)

"He's a bad motha... / Shut your mouth! / I'm just talking 'bout Ziggy / Then we can dig it / He's a complicated man and no one understands him but George Orwell." Isn't it crazy how David Bowie's "1984" from the album Diamond Dogs sounds like Isaac Hayes' Shaft theme song? Maybe that's just me, but the song was one of a few from a possible stage play based on the classic Orwell book, which later became the album that spawned "Rebel, Rebel." — Terrance Terich
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3. Roxy Music — Country Life (Atco)

Brian Eno may have left Roxy Music after finishing For Your Pleasure, but that was far from the end of the band's growth. Though not as wildly experimental as that record, Country Life was a new journey for the band, equally artsy, but more cohesive in terms of a solidly written rock album. Starting with the monumental "The Thrill of It All," the album twists and turns into Weill-ian cabaret ("Bitter-Sweet"), wild slide guitar work ("Prairie Rose"), stomping glam rock ("All I Want is You") and hypnotic psychedelia ("Out of the Blue"). I find myself going back and forth between this record and For Your Pleasure as the band's best, but they should really be held up as two separately great entries. That record was the pinnacle of the band's Eno-era. This was the album that proved that they were just as much of a rock `n' roll powerhouse without him. — Jeff Terich

2. Neil Young — On the Beach (Reprise)

A disillusioned Neil sits on the bottom of a well and muses on the wreckage of the '60s and the downside to being Los Angeles rock 'n' roll royalty. From time to time the sun passes overhead and he understands that scars, while they may leave a mark, will hurt less and less with the passage of time until you all but forget them. Now and again he even climbs out and takes a quick look around. Oh, and with a rotating cast of, to say the least, apt, characters filing in musically, this album contains some of the best music that Shakey ever released. — Tyler Parks
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1. Brian Eno — Here Come the Warm Jets (EG)

As a founding member of Roxy Music, Brian Eno took a backseat to the spotlight hogging vocals of Bryan Ferry. As a producer of such bands as U2 and David Bowie, Eno purposefully stayed in the shadows, letting the artist take the kudos. In between, there was Eno's solo work. Here Come the Warm Jets was Eno's first solo album, now legendary, and one of only a few early Eno albums that could still be called `rock.' In this review, I had to admit my previous transgression of being oblivious to Eno, and the further transgression of thinking him better than my `hero,' David Bowie. – Terrance Terich
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