Abbey Road — The Beatles, September 26, 1969

The last half-hour of Abbey Road is the greatest sound ever recorded. Despite a never-ending debate over what Beatles album is the best, it is clear Abbey Road was the ultimate piece of work that took pop music, shoved it into a meat grinder and spit out a refined new art.

Choosing Sgt. Pepper or the White Album is definitely debatable, but considerably off base when considering the category. Sure they are innovative — genius and revolutionary in fact. But Abbey Road is just as innovative and takes on a unique role of drawing upon the Beatles’ early rock and roll influences.

When Paul McCartney sings “Oh that magic feeling ? Nowhere to go” in “You Never Give Me Your Money,” he captures the pop attitude of the late 60s.

They sing about drugs. They sing about sex. They sing about youth disillusionment and to wrap up the album, they sing about love. For all of these reasons, Abbey Road is the first modern pop album.

— N. Zeke Campfield

Achtung Baby — U2, November 19, 1991

The early 90s were an uncertain time for both U2 and myself. Could they reinvent themselves to fit the changing musical scene while still remaining consistently good and true to themselves? Could I get through sixth grade lunch without tripping over my own feet? Fortunately for all, the answer was yes. The adolescence of the band mirrored my own, as their sound and my coordination evolved together.

Not only is each track absurdly well produced and lyrically and melodically genius; complied together, they form an allegory for infidelity and mistrust in society. Plus, the band looked hot as hell during that time. From the danceable “Even Better Than The Real Thing,” to the emotional powerhouse that is “One” (which sums up AIDS awareness in America at the time as well as U2’s own self-questioning and ultimate resolution), to the lesser known “Ultraviolet,” Achtung Baby made the hottest band the 80s the coolest band of the 90s.

–Anna Roberts

Appetite For Destruction — Guns N’ Roses, Jan 31, 1992

Dear Lord. How great is “Appetite?” When I first got a hold of this album in grade school, I immediately got rid of the tape’s cover, fearing my parents would discover and discard my illicit contraband. It might seem hard to imagine now, but there was a time when rock ‘n’ roll bands were just plain dangerous, and that’s exactly what GNR was when this album came out: dangerous and good. You have the big three — “Welcome to the Jungle,” “Sweet Child O’ Mine” and “Paradise City,” which all speak for themselves. “Mr. Brownstone” is the Omar Vizquel of the album. Vizquel is the great Cleveland shortstop that is always overshadowed by the American League’s holy shortstop triumvirate of Jeter, Garciaparra and A-Rod. Though overlooked, “Brownstone” is simply a great song, and coupled with some of the album’s other lesser lights — “It’s So Easy,” “My Michelle,” “Nightrain,” you have rock ‘n’ roll at its 1980s finest. One other brief thought — any time you’re at a party and “Paradise City” comes on, you know someone’s having a damn good time.

— Pat Whiting

Blood Sugar Sex Magik — Red Hot Chili Peppers, September 1991

The album that defined my 6th grade existence. Somewhere between the white-funk grooves and the raunchy, scandalous lyrics lay the secrets to our pre-teen aspirations and frustrations, allowing us to wallow in self-pity, pine over things we didn’t yet understand to any great degree, and, as my best friend and I did often in my living room, dance like maniacs. “The Power of Equality,” “Breaking the Girl,” “Funky Monks,” “Give It Away,” “Under The Bridge” are less song titles than sense memories — y’all gotta understand, listening to these songs was a daily occurrence for awhile. The record still holds up as a great piece of music, brash and feverish, even though much of the sophomoric humor stopped being funny when, well, when I was a sophomore. Their recent Californication is easily the best album of their career, but this one still holds a special place in my heart.

— Charles Hughes

Born To Run — Bruce Springsteen, August 25, 1975

With “Born to Run,” a twenty-something New Jersey kid named Bruce Springsteen wanted to make, in his words, “the greatest rock ‘n’ roll record ever.” And he came pretty close. Famous music critic (and later Springsteen producer) Jon Landau famously wrote, “I saw rock ‘n’ roll future, and its name is Bruce Springsteen.” This was the album that proved those words prophetic. “Born to Run” would be considered a classic if only for its two hit songs, the hard-charging title track and the gorgeous “Thunder Road” (which contains the greatest line in the world — “Show a little faith, there’s magic in the night. You ain’t a beauty but hey you’re all right. And that’s all right with me.”) But there’s a lot more. “Tenth Avenue Freeze Out” is beach-bar rock at its finest, with guitars roaring and horns blaring. “Backstreets,” is full of passion and feeling. And “Jungleland,” the album’s closer, speaks of a “barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a Dodge, drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain.” The ultimate album of teenage longing and escapism. In a word, wonderful.

— Pat Whiting

<I>Boys Don’t Cry
— The Cure, January 1980

When most people think about the Cure, images of Robert Smith’s pretty lipstick and sorrowful moaning probably come to mind. The 1980 album Boys Don’t Cry is proto-goth, if you will. On this album, the group sounds a lot like other Brit rockers of the time, like the Clash. Later albums like Disintegration, Pornography and Blood Flowers are much darker and brooding than the earlier Boys. Despite the intense possibilities in the lyrics of songs like “Fire in Cairo,” “Killing an Arab,” and the title track, the sonic dimension is still up beat. Boys Don’t Cry is basically the Cure’s dance album — and it’s a pop classic.

–Lisa Mumm

Breathe — Faith Hill, Nov 9, 1999

While keeping a little bit of country twang and adding a bit of attitude, Faith Hill hit gold on the pop and country charts with her fourth album, Breathe. Hill’s crossover success into the realm of pop began with the single “This Kiss” off of her third album, Faith. Breathe continued Hill’s successful crossover with the best mix of jazzy upbeat tunes such as “I love the way you love me” and “If my heart had wings,” plus beautiful ballads such as “Breathe” and her duet with husband Tim McGraw, “Let’s Make Love.” While Hill’s country roots may deter many from considering it pop, the truth is Hill has managed a tricky feat — pleasing fans on both sides of the spectrum. Fans enjoy the songs on Breathe because they are easy to listen to, the beats are catchy and the lyrics are timeless. This is what makes it a great album ? regardless of whether it’s called country or pop.

— Katie Harbath, Design Editor

The Clash (US Version) — The Clash, July 1977

In 1977, the Clash released its self-titled album in England, making the underground movement called “punk” a popular one.

Sure, the Sex Pistols’ banned album Never Mind the Bollocks: Here’s The Sex Pistols, had already hit number one on the UK music charts, but it was much easier to like The Clash. The Clash fueled a rock-and-roll revolution, taking the political fury of The Sex Pistols and producing sing-a-long anthems like “I’m So Bored with the U.S.A” and “Clash City Rockers.” Populism, it seemed, had never been so popular.

But it’s the US version of the album, released a couple years later with five more songs, that’s worth picking up. Included on this version are some of the group’s classic songs like “Clash City Rockers” and “I Fought The Law;” however, the standout single for sure is “White Man in Hammersmith Palais,” showcasing the group’s love for reggae and a pop song if there ever was one.

— Jonny Mellor

CrazySexyCool — TLC, 1994

After donning condom-covered glasses, ridiculous Cross Colours concoctions and combat boots in their first video, “What About Your Friends” (off their 1992 debut album Ohh?On The TLC Tip), the Atlanta-based trio managed to avoid a sophomore slump by producing CrazySexyCool, a legendary pop album that not only spanned the BET/MTV/VH1 spectrum, but also helped propel the record to diamond-selling status.

Utilizing three ambiguous adjectives to describe themselves, CrazySexyCool brought T-Boz, Left-Eye and Chili to the forefront of American pop music, making them incredibly famous, and in the end, broke.

The pervasive airplay of singles “Creep,” an ode to late night booty calls, and “Waterfalls,” the tale of losing risk-taking loved ones, helped the Dallas Austin/Jermaine Dupri/L.A. Reid-produced album top the Billboard charts, while the hooky choruses and aesthetically ground breaking beats made the ladies sex symbols. Catchy, sensual and masterfully constructed, CrazySexyCool is truly one the 90s best pop albums.

— Colin Finan

The Chronic — Dr. Dre, 1992

Doggystyle — Snoop Doggy Dogg, 1993

Fresh off his less-than-amicable departure from N.W.A. and still in the honeymoon stage of his marriage to the notorious Death Row Records, Dr. Dre released one of the greatest hip-hop records of all time: The Chronic. Spewing latent G-Funk tales over some of his finest beats, the 15-track LP made Compton the country’s most famous underclass suburb and introduced the world to a lanky, laid back Calvin Broadus, a.k.a. Snoop Doggy Dogg.

The chart-topping singles “Nuthin’ But A G-Thang,” “Let Me Ride” and “Dre Day” were all conducive to rollin’ in your ’64, and the taboo videos inflated the sales of cheap mesh-back hats bearing the likes of marijuana leaves, but the fact that The Chronic managed to propel gangsta rap in to the MTV stratosphere is that which gave it the ultimate mark in pop music status.

Almost a year after The Chronic’s release, Doggystyle shattered sales records and popularized Tropicana and Beefeaters products with “Gin and Juice.” Snoop let the world know “Who I Am,” morphing from the picture of the young stud into a Doberman; ripped off his hero Slick Rick with “Lodi Dodi” and informed everybody that they live in a “Doggy Dogg World,” all while becoming the biggest star in the eventually turmoil-ridden Death Row camp. Stuffed with sexual innuendo and slick rhyme couplets, Doggystyle raised the bar for gangsta rap albums to follow. Without a doubt the finest exports from Southern California since the L.A. Rams, Doggystyle and The Chronic are guaranteed pop music classics.

— Colin Finan

Don’t Be Cruel — Bobby Brown , July 1988

With a jazz undertone overpowered by chunky beats and a strikingly Timberlake-esque electrified wail, Bobby Brown’s first and probably largest hit “My Prerogative” burrows a cavity on contact. Peppered with sonic time capsules “Every Little Step” and “Don’t Be Cruel” interspersed amongst a slew of throw away R&B numbers, the Babyface-produced sugar cube appealed to both urban and rural sensibilities alike — even if most of us shorties didn’t know what the hell a prerogative was. [editor’s note: a prerogative means “right” or “sanction,” not “choice” as many improperly implement in speech.]

— MR

Dookie — Green Day, February 1, 1994

The essence of pop-punk lies in this tight little spit-soaked album that inspired many impressionable youths to crop their greasy shoulder-length manes a bit, slap on some Punky Color bleach and plaster on the hot hue of the week. A reductive glimpse at fashion’s progression due to pop? True. Green Day’s doing? Also true. “Longview,” “Welcome to Paradise,” “Basketcase,” “She” and “When I Come Around” will remain with our generation of music lovers forever. Billy Joe and his crew may not remain favorites amongst those searching for the more innovative stylings (Mikey, you the exception brah), but it will always be certain that Dookie got many of the recent Elliot Smith/Beta Band/Mos Def defectors into jumping along to music.

— MR

Foo Fighters — Foo Fighters, July 4, 1995

When “This Is A Call,” the first single from the Foo Fighters self-titled debut album was released in 1995, the buzz on the street was that “the drummer from Nirvana” had a pretty decent little band. Many doubted it would last. That drummer was Dave Grohl, and he did the unthinkable. He emerged from one of rock’s greatest tragedies and released a focused, razor sharp album that let him step out of the shadows and into the spotlight. Three million records later, he is still standing as one of the brightest rock stars in the world. His easy-going, sometimes humorous approach to his life and music stands in stark contrast to the dark world he was once caught in. Not only does the self-titled debut have the memorable pop hits (“This Is A Call,” “I’ll Stick Around,” “Big Me”) but the other, less lauded songs, remain as razor sharp odes to rock the Grohl way.

— Nathan Lichtman

Hangin’ Tough — New Kids on The Block

With those five teen heartthrobs on the cover of the black and white cassette cover, how could any girl ask for anything more? The music didn’t matter on this album — it was all about singing “Please don’t go girl” with little Joey McIntyre and doing the “Hangin’ Tough” sway with tough-boy Donnie Wahlberg. And don’t forget about Jordan and all “The Right Stuff” that he contributed. “Hangin’ Tough” is an album to put in a time capsule. The quality of the music will never be celebrated, but the memory of desperate girls screaming for five guys with bizarre hair styles and even weirder choreographed dances makes it an album worth hanging on to.

— Mary Motzko

Is This It — The Strokes, Oct 9, 2001 (U.S.)

The Strokes have a lot to live up to. After a well-publicized contractual bidding war, and frequent comparisons to such rock royalty as the Velvet Underground, the Stooges and the New York Dolls, Is This It, the band’s first album, had to be nothing short of stellar to satisfy music fans tired of the same old thing. Fortunately for them (and all of us), the album is good. Damn good. Clocking in at just a shade over a half-hour, the
album is quick, loud, and above all, catchy. The keys? Juicy guitar riffs, Julian Casablancas’ Lou-Reed-through-a-megaphone vocals and a great command of what makes music enjoyable — melody. The title track announces the band’s presence with authority, “Someday” and “Hard to Explain” provide a pair of the album’s hard-pounding highlights, and I challenge anyone not to shake their thang when listening to “Last Nite.”

Sure, maybe this album is a little too young (only a little over a month old) to be on an all-time great “pop” album list. But it’s nice to know that someone out there still knows how good a singer, a few guitars and a set of drums can sound. For that, we owe the Strokes our thanks.

— Pat Whiting

My Aim Is True — Elvis Costello, June 1977

Elvis Costello’s debut album is a glimmer of hope for the thousands of people trying to make a career out of music while supporting themselves otherwise: it was recorded in 24 scattered hours while Costello was working as a computer programmer in Liverpool. Stacked with such unbelievable pop gems as “Alison,” “Watching The Detectives” and “(Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes,” My Aim Is True captures the raw, unpolished aesthetic of Costello’s early years.

— Steve Reidell

Odelay — Beck, June 18, 1996

“Where It’s At,” the Dust Brothers bred, crown jewel track off an album with disparate influences ranging from hip-hop to garage, has unfortunately implanted the phrase “two turn tables and a microphone” into the American sub-conscious. Beck, ya passed the pop single test. An album that features not just a bunch of radio numbers (“Devil’s Haircut,” “Novacane”) but the padding sound for a bevy of television packages — I swear there was a time when NBA Inside Stuff used a Beck track 4 weeks consecutively. Once again, the utra-hip going pop. The genre’s a hipster praying disease.

— Matthew Rodbard

Paul’s Boutique — The Beastie Boys, July 1989

There’s always been the debate within the Monty Python fan community as to when the comedy troupe reached their peak — “Holy Grail” or “Life of Brian.” A similar situation exists within the Beastie Boys camp — 1989’s “Paul’s Boutique” or 1992’s “Check Your Head.” I choose the former. “Paul’s Boutique” is, quite simply, the greatest bit of sampling ever done.

Under the steady hand of the Dust Brothers, the B-Boys gnawed meaty strips of music from all over the musical landscape. “Egg Man” samples Curtis Mayfield, “The Sounds of Science” samples the Beatles, and the Abbey Road-esque, 12-and-a half-minutes long “B-Boy Bouillabaisse” even has a chunk of Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues.” Before the album’s over you’re treated to a mishmash of pop culture references ranging from such topics as Alfred E. Newman, Steve McQueen and Shea Stadium to Chuck Woolery, Ponce de Leon and “Welcome Back Kotter.” Fun, intelligent, and above all, funky.

— Pat Whiting

Pet Sounds — The Beach Boys, May 16, 1966

For years now, I’ve been an evangelist of sorts, preaching to anyone who will lend me their ear to go out, purchase and embrace the genius that is the “Pet Sounds,” the greatest output from Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys. Through the Herald, I’ll be able to reach even more of my minions. Most people think of the Beach Boys as the clean-cut, early-’60s group behind “Surfin’ U.S.A.” and “Help Me Rhonda.” That they were; there’s certainly no denying that. But then two things happened: Brian Wilson discovered the Beatles’ “Rubber Soul,” and Brian Wilson discovered drugs.

“Pet Sounds” is the result, a soaring collection of some of the sweetest harmonies and melodies ever recorded. “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” triumphantly kicks off the album, followed by the achingly sweet “You Still Believe In Me.” Before it’s all over, a fantastic rendition of the traditional Indian tune “Sloop John B,” a trippy “Here Today” and the absolutely amazing “God Only Knows” — probably my favorite song of all time — highlight what many rock critics consider the best non-Beatles album of all-time.

— Pat Whiting

Please Hammer Don’t Hurt Em — MC Hammer, January 1990

To the Extreme — Vanilla Ice, September 18, 1990

Released only 9 months apart in 1990, a pair of highly accessible/mildly conscious party gems shaped the way much of the MTV generation perceived rap music (arguably until the West Coast gangsta rap pinnacle made it cool to swear in ’93.) Propelled by universally recognized samples and lyrics rhymed at a 5th grade level, Hammer and Ice made this parachute pants rocking white boy wanna — Go, Go, Go.

— Matthew Rodbard

Purple Rain — Prince, August 6, 1984

1984. Reagan was president, “Star Wars” was still only a trilogy and the Superbowl Shuffle was barely a year away. Meanwhile, I was forbidden from watching R-rated movies and was still kept a safe distance away from “That filthy rap sh*t.” So, when Prince shimmied onto the scene with his butt-tight purple leather pants and that light-skinned chest of oily hair, chances were I wasn’t going to be listening to no Prince. But Mom couldn’t ban something she sang along with every time it came on the radio, and Dad?well, Dad was just happy it wasn’t the Beastie Boys or Weird Al Yankovic.

From start to finish, Purple Rain is the greatest concoction of funk, love ballads, rock and R&B ever to come packaged in tape or CD form. Ever. I didn’t care if he was straight or gay, a man or a sex machine. I just knew it was radio-friendly pop at its all time best. Still is.

–Adam Duerson

Significant Other — Limp Bizkit, June 22, 1999

By mid-1998, Limp Bizkit was at the eye of a mighty musical hurricane. Their debut 3 Dollar Bill Y’all was the cause for much street hype and their alliance with the almighty rockers Korn made them idols in the eyes of alienated teens everywhere. By the time their follow up Significant Other was released in 1999, they were the biggest rock band in the world. “Nookie” was on repeat at every rock radio station across the country, and the band mounted a successful tour that took them to rooftops across the country where thousands of fans would gather to catch the band for five minutes before the cops shut them down. The incredible success of Significant Other made rapper/singer Fred Durst a caricature though, and soon after he would become the object of bashing by those who despised Limp for going mainstream. Things would never really be the same for Limp, but ’98-’99 was a hell of a run for the guys from Jacksonville.

— Nathan Lichtman

Sixteen Stone — Bush, June 8, 1994

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Cobain had taken a large chunk of musical integrity away from rock fans everywhere with one bullet, but there were plenty of musicians right behind him who were going to try their hardest to shade the huge gap that he left. Bush led a British invasion in 1994 and 1995 with the hits “Everything Zen,” “Little Things,” “Comedown,” “Machinehead,” and the mega hit “Glycerine.” Girls had a pin-up lead singer in Gavin Rossdale, and the guys had straight-ahead power chords and sugary hooks that padded album sales well beyond anyone’s expectations. Though never seeming entirely genuine, Bush crafted a twelve-song album that would be the best of their career and an instantly cherished mid-’90s modern rock album. Unfortunately, Bush’s follow-ups would prove weaker and weaker, thus leaving Sixteen Stone to shine a little bit brighter.

— Nathan Lichtman

Substance — New Order, February 1987

Manchester’s New Order injected a collection of singles and remixes into the American club conscious spearheaded by “Blue Monday 88” (a splendidly juiced re-mix of the ’83 UK crusher) and the group’s first U.S. radio smash — Bernard Sumner’s pet project “True Faith.” Heavily inspired by kraut-rock pioneers Kraftwerk and Neu! while interjecting infectious vocals and economizing song lengths, Substance is the epitome of a new wave pop record. Analogs, house beats, accessible lyrics, cover art and title chalked with innuendo. Certainly in Patrick Bateman’s stack.

This Desert Life — Counting Crows, November 1999

Released in November 1999, The Counting Crows’ This Desert Life rounded out a fine decade of music with an extremely well constructed album.

While any of Desert Life’s songs can hold their own, most notably the lead “Hanginaround” and “I Wish I Was A Girl,” the album works best as a whole. The songs complement each other excellently, boasting a broad range while maintaining an emotional consistency.

While far short of the Beatles’ masterpiece, “This Desert Life” conjures up memories of Abby Road’s seamless traditions and buildup. From the initial solo drumbeat, the album builds on itself, adding layer upon layer of emotion track after track, touching listeners.

— Alex Conant

Unleash the Dragon — Sisqo, November 30, 1999

After gracing the stage with Will Smith and Stevie Wonder in 1999, Sisqo made the crossover to microphone-swapping with Backstreet and Britney in 2000. Somehow, a song intended to “say what men really think about” transformed an R&B frontman into a pop superstar. In addition to containing the undisputed spring break anthem of my freshman year, Unleash the Dragon marked Sisqo’s first post-Dru Hill album, and featured a goofy title song that cost Def Jam millions in an unreleased video project.

The rest of the record is one part sophomoric rhymes and two parts soul-empty ballads, but the “Thong Song” and Sisqo’s animated plastic image put the silver-haired one quickly into the hearts of legions of teenage girls. Then again, who wouldn’t fall in love with his unbridled, dramatic wailing or the manifest phrase “dumps like a truck?”

— Lars Russell

Weezer — Weezer, May 10, 1994

During their middle school years, a small group of young men had a weekly tradition of lugging electric guitars, dungeon master’s guides and a variety of multi-sided die to one of their garages to engage in a certain role-playing game and write bad “alternative” songs. Little did they know, Weezer would release their theme song their eighth-grade year.

“In The Garage” is only one of a number of tributes to innocence, shoddy womanizing and adolescent frustration. With the album’s lyrics, difficult front man Rivers Cuomo reminisced about his adolescent years with a certain geek-pride.

The band’s self-titled debut mixed grunge and pop, with the help of the album’s producer Ric Ocasek.

“Undone-The Sweater Song,” the intro-dialogue of which Weezer still performs live, “Buddy Holly,” and “Say It Ain’t So,” can still be heard on the radio today, but any Weezer fan knows the lyrics to every song by heart. Every song on the album has an unforgettable melody, and the album can only truly be enjoyed as a whole.

— Sam Bakken, News Editor

Like A Prayer — Madonna, 1989

It’s 1989 I am ten and my mother wants to kill me. My outrageous demands for fishnet socks and crimped hair have no business in the fourth grade. I don’t care. Throw me the hair brush; I’ll sing in the living room like it’s Shea Stadium and I am Madonna. I learned choreographed dance moves to “Like A Prayer, ” the lyrics to “Cherish” memorized like the back of my ringer-clad hands. Even “Oh Father” could bring down the house ? er, my house, my empty house. More importantly, I learned that being a girl was cool. Before her freaky sex goddess years, and well before her super-yoga-Rosie’s-best-friend years, Like A Prayer is Madonna at (one of) her primes.

— Anna Roberts

Baby One MoreTime — Britney Spears, 1999

A decade after Madonna launched into the music stratosphere with Like A Prayer, a copy-cat sweetened her way to the top. For the next generation, Britney’s Baby One More Time had little girls (and bigger boys) swooning and dancing with delight. Spears’ audios and visuals helped to stabilize MTV in the Internet era (My name is Katie and I’m from Podunk USA and I’d like to request Britney Spears ? Whoooooo!). The title track had kids from middle school gyms to dorm rooms high-kicking and shaking their ponytail-sporting heads. “Crazy” continued the dance madness while “Sometimes” showed us she could sing a little, too. As the guilty pleasure to end all guilty pleasures, Baby One MoreTime established a career, defined a generation of mass consumers and brought a cable music network to the next level.

— Anna Roberts