Masterpieces Unveiled: Exploring the Pinnacle of Musical Artistry – The Best Full-Length Albums Ever Produced

A lot of people, especially those who value their own musical insights, have a difficult time separating their favorite albums and songs, and artists from "the best," albums, songs, and artists. How someone might determine what "the best" can be is arbitrary and elitist. The following albums are albums that I can listen to from start to finish, enjoy every song as they were produced, and then continue listening to the album from the beginning. They are great, not because Rolling Stone or AP or Billboard decided that they're great, but because there isn't a single song among them that I would skip. And without further ado:

*in alphabetical order 

• Black Sails in the Sunset - AFI

There was a girl that I liked, my sophomore year of high school, and she listened to AFI. Contrast is interesting in life. This young woman was an attractive blonde with green eyes, and her crowd was popular, at least within the popular cliques—maybe two rungs down from the young women who everyone collectively despised because of their popularity, which somehow also made them the most popular. Anyway, the point that I’m making is that you never really know a person by the way they look. Many people will look at themselves, and they don’t look the way that they feel. I would never have imagined that this young woman was into the hardcore punk music of AFI. Those of you who are only familiar with AFI today, listen to their music (particularly this album, Black Sails in the Sunset) before they signed with DreamWorks.

• Funeral - Arcade Fire

My music tastes were beginning to shift when I discovered this album, Funeral by Arcade Fire. And, in a lot of ways, this album helped to guide my musical interests over the next four or five years. Arcade Fire had just released this album, and “Neighborhood # 1 (Tunnels)” was being played quite a bit in my new circles of music. The album felt “real,” and perhaps “raw,” is a better word, when other, similar music of the same genres felt contrived to me. I wouldn’t know this then, but “Indie Music” was starting to become trendy for the sake of being distinctive. What made the genre great throughout the 80s and 90s begat its ironic downfall throughout the mid 2000s.  

• Pet Sounds - The Beach Boys

Brian Wilson’s genius is undeniable, and yet so many of the Beach Boys’ earlier hits were lost on me, and I was born near the beaches of California. It wasn’t until I realized that a few songs that I’ve heard and enjoyed were actually the Beach Boys that I started exploring their music more thoroughly. And of course, I discovered Smiley Smile and Pet Sounds. I got lost in the rabbit hole of Brian Wilson’s mind, and after I emerged, I had realized that somewhere down in the depths of his head, Pet Sounds was just constantly playing like white noise in his head. When writing his music, he would pull pieces from that and Smiley Smile as starting points for his earlier music. Those sounds were starting to drive him crazy, and he finally got to the point where he had to explore them. It may have driven him crazy in the end, but Pet Sounds emerged as one of the greatest collections of music ever imagined.

The Flying Club Cup - Beirut

There was a fairly long period of time where the songs “Nantes” and “A Sunday Smile” would be playing somewhere, and they existed in the background of my life, and although I was absorbing them, I was never really conscious of the music. For Christmas one year (I think), my sisters gifted me the album, The Flying Club Cup, and I didn’t recognize it or the name of the band, Beirut. I don’t think I reacted. Which came as a surprise to my sister, and so she started explaining that she thought it was the best album released that year. I said, “Oh, OK, cool.” And then set the album aside. Well, she wasn’t wrong, and not only was she not wrong The Flying Club Cup was one of the best albums released ever. I started listening to it and realized that I was familiar with a few of the songs, and then I discovered songs like “The Penalty” and “Guyamas Sonora,” and the rest of the album’s genius started falling into place. Later in life, I would move to Santa Fe, New Mexico, and discovered that Zac Condon, the founder of Beirut, was from there, and I had the opportunity to see Beirut play live, which has since become one of the greatest things I have ever seen on stage.

A Mysterious Production of Eggs - Andrew Bird

Throughout the years of 2003 through 2008, I was incredibly consumed with the music scene. I had left the mainstream world of music behind and was exploring music that would change the way I thought about music, and quite frankly, the way that I thought about the world. This period of time was profound for me. I also happen to think that it was a profound time in the world of music, and so far, now that we’re getting closer to nearly ten years since this age of music, my loose belief that this was the last great age of music is becoming more and more firm. At the heart of this age was when I first heard the song, “A Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left,” by Andrew Bird. I immediately thought, “What the f$&k is happening right now?” Before the song ended, I was ready and waiting to listen to another randomly chosen song off of Andrew Bird’s recent release (c2005) of A Mysterious Production of Eggs. I bought the CD and listened to it over and over again from start to finish, absorbing all of Bird’s songs; I would even hear them in my sleep, in my dreams. And then, of course, Andrew Bird released Armchair Apocrypha two years later (c. 2007), and I knew then that I would be a lifelong Andrew Bird fan. I have since seen him play in Austin, Texas, Santa Fe, New Mexico, Salt Lake City, Utah, and in the Guggenheim in New York City, New York, and his playing, along with Nickel Creek, in Missoula, Montana, this summer, and I will be there. And even though A Mysterious Production of Eggs is far more raw and unsteady, maybe, than his other albums (especially his later releases), the album remains my favorite full-length album of Bird’s.

I'm Wide Awake It's Morning - Bright Eyes 

The sound of Conor Oberst highlighted just about everything I hated in music. His timing was awkward, his sound inconsistent, and his voice was, well, it was awful; but when you hear a sound like Obrest’s’, especially when it’s presented in such a way as the song, “Lua,” off of the album, I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning, there is something ethereal about it that sticks with you. And although it’s unconscious, you have to understand that something that just dwells within you. I listened to the song “Lua,” and “We Are Nowhere and It’s Now,” and “Landlocked Blues,” over and over and over again, and whether or not I ever actually came to understand what it was about this music that intrigued me, I did eventually start to appreciate it. I discovered Fevers and Mirrors and Lifted, or the Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground, earlier releases of the band Bright Eyes, and, along with Andrew Bird, Conor Oberst, for a while, would be one of my favorite musicians. And I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning remains one of my favorite full-length albums of all time. I remember one evening, I was compelled to go for a drive. The air outside was warm and damp. It was late enough where there were few cars on the street (as is the nature of a small Texas town), I had my windows down, and was listening to this album, and I remember feeling an overwhelming awe as though the perfect balance of that moment and I was made conscious through the music. And I remember the streetlamps where bokeh in the misty night, and I drove through the entire album before returning home.

Salt for Salt - Brown Bird 

Salt for Salt is, without question, my favorite full-length album of all time. If I were to lay this list out from best to least-best, it’s Salt for Salt that would hold the top spot, resoundingly. Brown Bird is also the most recent discovery. Before the winter of 2012, I had no clue Brown Bird existed, which isn’t a surprise because unless you happened to see them on tour or a couple of their songs were squeezed between your favorite artists on Pandora or you’re from the state of Rhode Island, you wouldn’t really know the music of Brown Bird, and that is largely how David Lamb and MorganEve Swain wanted it. I wouldn’t know about Brown Bird had I been dragged to their show at High Mayhem in Santa Fe, New Mexico, by an ex-girlfriend. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see them; I just simply didn’t feel like going out that night, and although my girlfriend had never heard the music of Brown Bird before that night, she did want to go out. Before they started playing, we found ourselves standing out front of the recording studio around an aggressive fire pit, where several others were chatting. It was an intimate concert; there were probably thirty people there that night, but the recording studio High Mayhem isn’t prepared for events. We found a seat wherever we could, and before their first song ended that night, “Fingers to the Bone,” I knew that no other band would ever replace Brown Bird as that one defining band in my life. Before the night ended, they played “Bilgewater,” “Thunder & Lightning,” “Come My Way,” “Blood of Angels,” and “Nothing Left,” from the album Salt for Salt, and other songs, including “Down to the River,” from the album The Devil Dancing. If after you listen to these songs, Brown Bird hasn’t found a new niche in your musical collection, I’m just not sure how you can claim to love music.

Under the Table and Dreaming - Dave Matthews Band

Dave Matthews often gets a bad rap. And early on, after the release of Crash, his second studio album, and how overplayed “Crash Into Me,” was at the time—especially considering the songs, “Two Step,” “#41,” and “Lie in Our Graves,” were released on the same album—I suppose I do understand why, the Dave Matthews Band songs that received the most attention early on where his worst. At one point, even, I found the album, Under the Table and Dreaming, abandoned on the hot streets of Texas, and when I realized that it was Dave Matthews Band, I gently put it back on the coarse concrete. It wasn’t until my family went to see him in San Antonio, Texas, and I was dragged along, that I realized that there was something to this guy. Dave Matthews Band, like the Grateful Dead, is a Jam Band. Until you’ve seen them in concert, you really have no idea the talent behind the music. It’s interesting too, because once you do, even their studio albums have a different impact on you. Under the Table and Dreaming and Crash are both phenomenal studio albums, “Rhyme & Reason,” “Warehouse,” “Ants Marching,” “Jimi Thing,” “Typical Situation,” and “Satellite,” are next to perfect songs, and you can literally feel the emotion that inspired Dave Matthews when you listen to them, it’s unbelievable. “Satellite” was the first Dave Matthews Band song that I listened to, outside of context, meaning I didn’t know that it was Dave Matthews when I heard it, and I listened to it over and over again, and how subtle but ingenious the guitar riffs are. That was the first Dave Matthews song that I taught myself to play on the guitar.  

Jagged Little Pill - Alanis Morissette

I'm sure you've heard songs from this album, perhaps even most of them, but have you ever put the album in your car's CD player and just let it play while you disappear, thoughtlessly on the roads?  

Graceland - Paul Simon

Either/Or - Elliot Smith

Elliott Smith struggled with depression, and you can hear it in his voice and in his lyrics.