OK, so @MrTaedis did a thread where he put up a video from every year he's been alive, and I thought, hi I'll do that. This was an astoundingly bad idea! Because I treat this sort of thing as if lives are in the balance, instead of killing seconds on bird post website.

ANYWAY. FUCKIT.
HERE WE GO.
1971. If I'm posting this, duck because I am feeling like we're living in the Old Testament, with all that entails. Sweet backing vocals implore you to "LET IT BURN" as Niney sings "Judgment has come and mercy is gone".

1972. Are they art? Are they a vehicle to get Bryan Ferry laid? IS GETTING BRYAN FERRY LAID ART??? Before they disappeared up their own asses, they circumnavigated them.

1973. "The paranoid great movie queen/ sits idle, fully armed" is how it starts, "Her schoolhouse mind has windows now/ where handsome creatures come to watch./ The anaesthetic wearing off./ Antarctica starts here." is how it ends. Perfect album & end.

1974. "Great Pop Things" called 1974 "the twilight of cool", and I can't deny it. Great guitar on this cover, though.

1975. Adams takes "Onward Christian Soldiers" and sedates it. A sample of a preacher talking of Jesus healing the sick stutters and repeats. That's it. But so effective. Search also for the original version where a radio host shuts down the idea of Hell.

1976. Neil Young eulogizes America again. Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me. I have a live version where he goes into a wonderful riff of other American icons: the Astrodome, Muhammed Ali.

1977. The slowest of burns, building it up, setting it down so gently, all leading to astronomical definitions of twilight and a letter: "Dear George. What's going on. I'm not the same person I used to be."

(Definitely read what he's saying, it's by turns breathtaking, mundane, and hilarious. https://genius.com/Robert-ashley-the-backyard-annotated)

1978. A rare explosion of pure joy from the usually ironic Byrne, but he can't help but slip "with a little practice, you can..." in there.

1979. In one speaker, someone sings an anti-love song while in the other, someone deconstructs the very idea of love songs. But what's important is the guitar, humming and writhing and tearing and licking the blood off its paws.

1980. Over a hypnotically galloping staticky beat, the boys pound a two note riff into your head for 20 minutes while voices mutter and declaim and yell "symptom of a signal/ soon to be exhausted". It speaks perfectly to their time and ours.

Along with Annie Hall and The Kentucky Fried Movie, I loved this far before I could appreciate it. The deadpan, the pacing, the absurdity (and the listing), right here is where I got my sense of humor.

1982. We ARE on the edge of Burma. And it's scary as hell but his baby is doing the twist and his parents are dead and she looks at him (in fear? in defiance?) and says "that's the way I like it/ I like it too much".

1983. First song I ever tried to learn on keyboard, not knowing that there was such a thing as echo pedals. First album I remember buying, trying to decipher the graphic code left by Seville. And "so why don't you piss off?" titillated little pre-teen me.

Had this one on vinyl too, I remember looking at the cover and weeping a little at how beautiful her voice is. Was I a precious little shit? Did I get the crap beat out of me a lot when I moved back to classic rock America?

Side two of Bad Moon Rising is a suite, all necessary to get to "Justice is Might", the riff slowly drags itself out of a backwards car wreck while T. stutters OK OK ITS ABOUT ITS ITS ABOUT A GENIUS AND A SEX MANIC TAKING LOTS OF DRUGS AND FUCKING ALL DAY

1986. Wanted "Credit Racket" to be the song I walked with my wife out of the church to. Got shut down. HER LOSS. Nuclear war was much on our minds back then. "Well ha ha ha: you've already paid for this" is said with such ferocity I still get chills.

A rejection of God? A rejection of religion, an embrace of God? I have my opinions, but ending the song with a beginning, "And there's a story in me, and it starts: . . . . . ." as the music steps out of the factory for the first time is a moment.

1988. A friend passed me a tape with Land of Rape and Honey on one side, and Big Black singles and rarities on the other, and a year later I'm concussing myself at industrial dance night at the Metro by somehow kneeing myself in the face.

1989. Sado-masochism and religious ecstasy and self-annihilation and ego death? Oh hello all the themes I'll be obsessed with for the rest of my life, all with a guitar solo dialed in from the second heaven.

1990. "Now it's over I'm dead and I haven't done anything that I want/ or I'm still alive and there's nothing I want to do." The modern condition, that.

1991. Fantastic dance album shot through with great dark jokes. "May I bring YOU up to date sir? We are not ALIVE at all."

I know y'all are biting your pillows waiting for me to do the second half but I gotta go to the store, y'all need anything?

OK LET'S GET THROUGH THE 90S I DID IT ONCE KIND OF I CAN DO IT AGAIN

1992. Medicine was better than My Bloody Valentine and gets no love send tweet let's fight physically I'm behind the Trailways station. If you can get through the last part without banging your head you're dead.

1993. Maybe the most unhinged Stereolab album, but that's like saying "hottest blizzard". This song is literally two notes and it frankly couldn't be any more. Trust me, they do more with two notes than most do with all of em.

1994. The first time, but not the last, Jim O'Rourke shows up, recording various Chicago spazz-rockers and then cutting up the tapes. Yeah, we used to do that. Full of wild dynamic shifts and range, when the main riff kicks in, art shit upside yr head!

1995. Even though the title track features the sizey line "If I could fuck a mountain, Lord I would fuck a mountain", I'm going with this faded Kodachrome of a Dodge K-car by the water and a guy with a mullet looking at his hands.

1996. I decided a while ago this was my favorite year for music. And this song took the top of my head off: excellent poetry set to a hypnotic beat and the same riff over and over until time just stops and you're left with...

"The ball of string, an embroidered flower, the resting place of the zero hour".

Bury me in my overcoat.
Sway me with the sound you say.

1997: They got bored with rock, so they took it apart and put it back together the way they liked. And this wasn't just pulled out of their ass, they played it like this every time. They opened for Pavement and there was damn near riots.

1998: This is my wrestling entrance song, @NatEdgecomb. It's from the best named album of all time: Dial 'M' for Motherfucker. Come for the world's most useless censoring, stay for the 2 Live Crew sample.

1999. Jimbo was not done. After he left Gastr del Sol (look em up!), he came out with a trio of albums, this one a perfect slice of 70s radio pop grown up all wrong. Dude really does master everything he touches.

2000. This was one of my child's first favorite songs, and it's beautiful and sad, about parting ways and leaving, how bubble-thin our time is. And then someone made this video? If you can tell me what it's from, I'd be obliged.