1000 albums to hear before you dieMusicDAF
Gold und Liebe (1981)
The fourth album from the German electro-punk duo was astonishingly predictive of future dance trends; no wonder John Peel called them "the godfathers of techno". Acid house, new beat, electronic body music - it's all in these rubbery, sequencer-driven grooves, seven years ahead of schedule.
Daft Punk
Discovery (2001)
Fans of the crunching techno of their debut, Homework, were delighted to hear that Daft Punk had turned into robots, but surprised to find that they had followed up with an album scored with pop. Barry Manilow is sampled on Superheroes, while you can hear Buggles in Digital Love and you can play air guitar to Aerodynamic.
Karen Dalton
It's So Hard to Tell Who's Going to Love You the Best (1969)
Armed with a banjo and a voice that was sour, strange and spiritual, Dalton was a fixture on the Greenwich Village folk scene of the 1960s. This is her great debut record from 1969, and contains the bewitching Little Bit of Rain and It Hurts Me Too.
The Damned
Damned Damned Damned (1977)
This was the first full-length British punk album. With the movement's clarion call single, New Rose, at its nervy, sweaty core, it still sounds kinetic and vital. From the breakneck Neat, Neat, Neat to the gothic slur of Feel the Pain, its lyrics are infectiously spiky and caustic, and its feverish riffs remarkably undated.
Miles Davis
Kind of Blue (1959)
There's a moment on this album that is often cited by musicians and fans as the instant when they fell in love with jazz. After the quiet, almost preoccupied ensemble opening of the hook-themed So What, drummer Jimmy Cobb makes a split-second switch from brushes to sticks, Miles hangs a long single note out into empty space for a tantalising moment that seems never to end - and then Cobb sets the rhythm rolling with a shimmering cymbal splash. When Spike Lee said "do the right thing", he could have been talking about the uncanny intuition of Miles Davis.
For most of the trumpeter's life, he did the right thing in his music with an astonishing consistency for an improviser. Kind of Blue is one of the best-known and most enduring of all postwar jazz records, still steadily selling almost half a century later, untouched by fashion or passing time. Davis's supergroup includes pianist Bill Evans and saxophonists Cannonball Adderley and John Coltrane, and the music has a lyrical spaciness quite unlike the preceding jazz of the 40s and 50s.
The contrast between the horn players remains gripping however many times you play this album - Davis's plaintive muted trumpet and subtle manoeuvring around the beat, Adderley's garrulous
alto sax, and John Coltrane's spine-tingling tenor, wheeling through thunderous runs from yearning high notes, through dolorous mid-range phrases, down to basement-register honks that make you jump. An album that turned the course of jazz, and turns on
new jazz fans still. John Fordham
De La Soul
3 Feet High and Rising (1989)
Named after a Johnny Cash lyric (from one of the many tunes it samples), this NYC trio's debut espouses humour and harmony via tunes as day-glo bright as the flowers on its cover. Released amid a sea of gangsta rap, it remains one of hip-hop's most progressive, witty and broad-minded albums.
The Decemberists
Her Majesty the Decemberists
The second album from the Oregon folk-pop group proved them to be true American originals, as Colin Meloy matched his unashamedly ambitious lyrical conceits with an unerring ear for melody. No band has written a love song stranger and more eloquent than Red Right Ankle.
Deep Purple
Machine Head (1972)
The epitome of 1970s heavy metal, Deep Purple's best album combines Ian Gillan's tinnitus-inducing vocals, Richie Blackmore's paint-stripping guitar, a band that sounds like a jet engine and various male fantasies about girls, space and trucks. Smoke On the Water's classic grinding riff is still the compulsory first step for anyone learning rock guitar.
Sam Dees
The Show Must Go On (1975)
The Birmingham, Alabama songwriter for everyone from Aretha to Whitney got to make only one album himself. It's centred around two dark, ghetto-soul ballads, Child of the Streets and Troubled Child. But it's the love songs - So Tied Up, Just Out of My Reach - that bring out the tears in his imploring voice.
Def Leppard
Hysteria (1987)
It's a rare band that owes conquering the world to the drummer losing an arm in a car crash. Had Rick Allen's accident not delayed recording while he learned how to drum with one arm, producer Mutt Lange would have been unavailable - as would those choruses that could crush entire civilisations, and guitars polished until they gleamed. The unavoidable rock record of the late 80s.
The Delfonics
La La Means I Love You (1998)
It was with the Delfonics that Thom Bell, the pioneer of symphonic soul, did his greatest work. Influenced by Burt Bacharach, Bell used oboes, horns, cornets and violins to embellish the group's ethereal falsettos and their loverman-subverting expressions of dependency and vulnerability.
Destiny's Child
Survivor (2001)
Destiny's Child were at their peak when Survivor appeared; its first single, Independent Women Part I (which had been the theme to the Charlie's Angels movie), had spent 11 weeks at No 1 in the US, and the title track had reached No 2. The album obligingly sold 663,000 copies in America in its first week, and ended the year with 10m global sales, confirming their status as the world's most successful female group.
But the statistics don't convey its impact as a tract for aspiring teenage and twentysomething women. The empowerment message at its core - which counselled body-pride and financial and emotional self-reliance - wasn't the usual "do as I say, not as I do" flannel. Beyoncé Knowles, the whirlwind who was the band's first among equals, embodied it by producing and
co-writing the album, as well as frequently singing lead. (Officially, all three members were "lead vocalists".)
The reason the message reached as many ears as
it did was that it came parcelled up in incredible tunes, starting with the one-two-three knockout of opening tracks: Independent Women, Survivor and Bootylicious. Unapologetically mainstream pop-R&B, the mood is ever upbeat. And in America, it didn't do any harm that many of the tunes were underpinned by tradtional values (Fancy, for example, takes a negative view of competitiveness between women, while Nasty Girl wags a disapproving finger at promiscuity), or that the final track is a gospel medley. But you don't have to be a midwestern Christian to appreciate what three ambitious women can do. Caroline Sullivan
Damien Dempsey
Seize the Day (2004)
A burly figure known for his boxing skills, Dempsey is currently the best young singer-songwriter in Ireland. He mixes gutsy ballads with a dash of reggae and even rap in his treatment of life in contemporary Dublin. The best songs here are Celtic Tiger, a bleak analysis of the greed and damage caused by the city's booming economy, and Ghosts of Overdoses, on drugs and the loss of community.
Denim
Back in Denim (1993)
The debut by former Felt frontman Lawrence Hayward's band is the great unheralded album of the 90s. Part hilarious, heartbreaking memoir - like Jonathan Coe's The Rotters' Club set to thumping glam - and part anti-rock manifesto, it remains utterly unique, testament to its creator's peculiar vision and inimitable genius.
Sandy Denny
Sandy (1972)
This was the second solo album that Denny recorded after leaving Fairport Convention, and was notable both for her exquisite, quietly emotional vocals and her increasingly confident, mature songwriting. She wrote eight of the tracks here, including the gently drifting It'll Take a Long Time.
Depeche Mode
Violator (1990)
Eventually selling more than 7m copies, Violator saw four boys from Basildon become world-beaters. A moody but effortless update of their synth-pop sound, it is the band's most coherent album, and spawned the evergreen Enjoy the Silence, which outstripped tracks by Prince and Madonna to become the biggest-selling 12in in the history of the band's US label.
Derek and the Dominoes
Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs (1970)
Fronting a deliberately anonymous supergroup, Clapton's career-defining masterpiece derived from his drug and alcohol problems and his unrequited love for George Harrison's wife, Patti Boyd. Clapton's playing led rock critic Dave Marsh to remark that the guitarist had reached so deeply into himself that hearing this felt like witnessing a murder or a suicide.
Devo
Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo! (1978)
One of the most innovative debuts in American new wave: a jerky, robotic blend of synthezisers and guitars that could be from Planet Zog. The Akron, Ohio oddballs believed that mankind was regressing. Curiously enough, guitar and dance acts are still pilfering gems like Mongoloid and Jocko Homo some 30 years later.
Dexys Midnight Runners
Searching for the Young Soul Rebels (1980)
Britain's greatest soul band was a bunch of lairy Birmingham lads, wearing working clothes and woolly hats, led by Kevin Rowland, a man so confrontational that he stole the master tapes from the label. Their first album, fiery and passionate, celebrated Irish novelists and old soul singers with equal vigour.
Neil Diamond
12 Songs (2005)
Produced by Rick Rubin following his albums with Johnny Cash, this was a timely reminder of the songwriter behind the sequin-wearing, Las Vegas-entombed legend. It's stripped-down, spiritual and surprisingly restrained, yet made Diamond sound more powerful than he had for decades.
Bo Diddley
The Story of Bo Diddley (2006)
Many of Bo Diddley's best songs were built around a single beat - and boy, what a beat. A jittery, shuffling syncopation of blues and African rhythms, it oozed sex and attitude, as did his brazen guitar-playing and outrageously self-promoting lyrics. Listen to this exhaustive compilation and marvel at his immodesty.
Dillinger
CB200 (1976)
Partial to arcane lyrical twists, Dillinger had a style as cavalier as one might expect from a man named by Lee "Scratch" Perry. This masterful example of the reggae DJ's art boasts the hit single Cokane in My Brain, though his random cultural observations suggest that Dillinger's recreational pursuits were strictly herbal in nature.
Dinosaur Jr
You're Living All Over Me (1987)
One of underground rock's great "why the hell not" moments. J Mascis and Lou Barlow here committed the fantastic non sequitur of using their amp-melting hardcore punk training to reclaim the melody, colour and, especially, guitar solos of classic rock. Tunes abound, as do fuzz, velocity and all kinds of forward possibilities for this wacky new "indie rock" thing.
Dion
Born to Be With You (1975)
This is what you would want a "lost classic" to sound like. With a backstory involving teen stardom and heroin, the last thing Dion DiMucci should have needed was to get involved with Phil Spector. In fact, this sedate and moving album is the sound of two elements that were made for each other.
Discharge
Hear Nothing, See Nothing, Say Nothing (1982)
It's the early 80s. Punk's not dead - it just got angrier, faster and obsessed with nuclear war. Inspiring near-religious devotion from punk, metal and hardcore bands from Japan, Scandinavia and South America, this record, a document of the cold war paranoia of British youth, has become nothing less than an article of faith.
The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy
Hypocrisy is the Greatest Luxury (1992)
Michael Franti's preachy, baritone-voiced pronouncements are easy to dismiss now as sounding like extracts from a social sciences module. But when this arty San Francisco outfit's fusion of clanking industrial beats, jazz guitar, thrash metal and militant poetics gel - such as on the particularly stunning Language of Violence - they can work brilliantly.
Dizzee Rascal
Boy in da Corner (2003)
Quick-witted, fire-tongued Dizzee Rascal's debut was a ferocious statement of intent that also stands as a landmark document of British society in the 21st century: a flare sent from the streets to the mainstream, lit by extraordinary production that did nothing less than reinvent pop music.
DJ Shadow
Endtroducing (1996)
A pioneering album made entirely of samples by a kid from suburban California with vinyl-addiction issues. Endtroducing uses snatches of forgotten funk jams, horror movie strings and crashing beats to achieve a disorienting, dreamlike state. You won't find this instrumental hip-hop classic in the bargain bin alongside its source material.
Thomas Dolby
The Flat Earth (1984)
A forgotten classic of weird 80s pop, as the sound of sampling technology collides with a boundless imagination. The Flat Earth's crepuscular blend of synth-pop, jazz and world music twists and turns while Dolby ruminates on mental illness, town planning and, on the sultry Screen Kiss, the fate of 50s Hollywood's blacklisted screenwriters.
Eric Dolphy
Out to Lunch (1964)
On Out To Lunch, the saxophonist/flautist and a band that featured vibist Bobby Hutcherson united two crucial strands in postwar jazz: Ornette Coleman's emerging "New Thing" in free jazz, and Gunther Schuller's classical-influenced "Third Stream" fusions. It's a compelling document that is at once fractured, dissonant, deeply physical and profoundly lyrical.
Fats Domino
The Fats Domino Jukebox (2002)
New Orleans' favourite son helped nudge the effervescent jazz of the 1930s that bit closer to rock'n'roll, in the process inspiring a generation of Jamaican reggae stars. His chummy voice and jaunty boogie-woogie piano beamed such bonhomie that even the break-up songs on this well-chosen compilation are cheeringly feelgood.
Donovan
Sunshine Superman (1966)
Dropping acid on a Stateside trip transformed Britain's Dylan-alike into a psychedelic visionary, three steps ahead of the pack. Guinevere brings sitar to King Arthur's court; Celeste is a majestic drone; The Trip is a self-explanatory rave-up. Mellow Yellow was a jazzier and more rounded sequel, but this album still sounds fresh out of the box.
The Doors
The Doors (1967)
The debut that unleashed the leather-clad, shaman-obsessed Mr Mojo Risin' on an unsuspecting world is a cyclical trip through LA psychedelia and apocalyptic rock'n'roll. The band never sounded as lean, nor Jim Morrison as wildly seductive, again.
Dave Douglas
Charms of the Night Sky (1998)
The past quarter-century has seen the emergence of a more pastoral, reflective approach to improvisation, which some see as a sign of the inevitable shift towards Europe and elsewhere - except that one of the best examples was made by four Americans. The limpid, drummerless title track will melt your heart.
Dr Alimantado
Best Dressed Chicken in Town (1978)
A compilation of early singles that had caught the imagination of British punk rockers - Born for a Purpose is referenced by the Clash, for example - this is a terrific example of the DJ's art. In the bizarre, poultry-themed title track is a wealth of producer Lee "Scratch" Perry's genius.
Dr Dre
The Chronic (1992)
Despite (or perhaps because of) its violence, misogyny and homophobia, Dr Dre's post-NWA debut remains a defining album in music history. The Chronic introduced a host of soon-to-be-huge rappers (notably Snoop Doggy Dogg), established the prominence of the thrilling west coast G-funk sound, and catapulted gangsta rap to the mainstream.
Dr John
Gris Gris (1968)
Dr John's adoption of voodoo mysticism should seem corny and gimmicky, but there's something disquieting about his debut album's stew of rattling percussion, gravelly vocals, female chanting and weird instrumentation. None of the umpteen covers of I Walk On Guilded Splinters can match the original for sheer marrow-chilling menace.
Dr Octagon
Dr Octagonecologyst (1995)
Although at least one of its makers has sought to distance himself from it, this attempt to redefine rap's boundaries ended up simply drawing new ones. Former Ultramagnetic MC "Kool" Keith Thornton's acerbic wordplay and Dan "The Automator" Nakamura's idiosyncratic beats (he samples Bartok on the standout Blue Flowers) became a template for "alternative" rap.
Nick Drake
Five Leaves Left (1969)
Released when he was just 20 years old, Drake's debut demonstrated the enormity of his talent with tracks such as Way to Blue and Cello Song. Infused with a sense of wonder and a lingering melancholy, it serves as a more subdued counterpoint to its follow-up, Bryter Later.
The Dramatics
The Best Of (1986)
The Dramatics were Stax's great exponents of male-harmony soul. The contrasting gruff baritone of LJ Reynolds and soaring falsetto of Ron Banks combined to sublime effect on 1972's million-selling In the Rain, a tragic-angst classic complete with strings and stormy sound effects.
Dream Syndicate
The Days of Wine and Roses (1982)
LA's "Paisley Underground" is a forgotten pop footnote, but at the time, little was hipper than the west coast's attempt to meld the energy of punk with psychedelia and country. Dream Syndicate were the scene's leaders, and their debut album showed the kids in black leather that guitar solos really could be exciting.
The Drifters
The Definitive Drifters (2003)
More members have passed through their ranks than managers at Man City, but from 50s R&B (a big influence on Elvis) through the Brill Building era to their 70s Indian summer (with hits such as There Goes My First Love), they remained the premier vocal group.
Duran Duran
Rio (1982)
The sound of pantalooned New Romantics having it large, Rio made its creators household names. And justly so. Its sharply tailored, synth-washed pop, which included the definitive hits Hungry Like the Wolf and Save a Prayer, proved that Duran were more than just a bunch of heavily rouged faces.
The Durutti Column
The Return of the Durutti Column (1978)
Former punk turned avant-garde jazz-classical guitarist Vini Reilly and veteran jazz drummer Bruce Mitchell were one of music's oddest but most inspired couplings. Their Factory debut combines fragility, melancholy, birdsong and electronic effects to produce soundscapes of breathtaking, fragile beauty.
Bob Dylan
Biograph (1985)
Just as the film director Todd Haynes needed six actors to play Bob Dylan in I'm Not There, so the only way to come to a proper appreciation of the great troubadour is to put his entire body of work on random shuffle. Freewheelin',
Highway 61 Revisited and Blood On the Tracks are individual masterpieces, each a unified piece of work that speaks most eloquently of its time and place, but none of them tells the whole story. Biograph, assembled almost a quarter of a century after Dylan first entered a recording studio, veers wildly from the Nashville crooner to the college folkie to the rock recluse to the amphetamined harlequin to the anti-war campaigner to the surrealist poet - and so on, across three CDs that follow no thematic or chronological logic but are all the more stimulating for their very randomness. As Dylan's various selves parade by, we might find ourselves getting closer to an understanding of his insistence that they are not the products of an endless series of "reinventions" but instead all just one self: himself.
In 1970, with Self Portrait, Dylan created a half-hearted riposte to the bootleggers who had gathered up his studio-floor sweepings and established a market for anything to which he had contributed so much as a single harmonica toot. The 53-track Biograph is a more thorough, although still hardly rigorous, attempt to stitch together many of his best-known recordings - Blowin' in the Wind, It Ain't Me Babe, Mr Tambourine Man, Like a Rolling Stone, Positively 4th Street, Just Like a Woman, Lay Lady Lay etc - with B-sides, alternate takes and material previously familiar only on the black market. No one with any feeling of his work would want to be without Percy's Song, one of his finest narrative ballads, the gorgeous New York studio version of You're a Big Girl Now, or the incandescent, unstoppable version of Isis ("This is a song about marriage," he spits) recorded in Montreal during the Rolling Thunder tour. It's nowhere near a perfect anthology, by anybody's standards, but a certain unevenness in itself makes the set
a more accurate reflection of Dylan's often
bemusing career.
Biograph is also notable for Cameron Crowe's lengthy sleeve essay and song notes, based on interviews in which Dylan spoke more frankly than ever before. No one who read this booklet properly could have been surprised when, 20 years later, the first volume of Dylan's autobiography turned out to be more stimulating and enlightening than anything ever written about him by an outside observer. His description of pleading with his producer, Tom Wilson, to abandon the tendentious title of Another Side of Bob Dylan in 1964 remains eloquent of his desire not to be packaged or marketed. "I knew I was going to have to take
a lot of heat for a title like that," he said. "It seemed like a negation of the past, which in
no way was true ... It doesn't matter now."
Biograph, you might say, is Bob Dylan not
unplugged but unpackaged. Richard Williams
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