Desert Island discs are an anomaly of music fans. While it becomes near impossible for music lovers to list their top five “favorite” albums, best artists, or even favorite songs, it seems everyone can think of their “desert island discs.” These discs are what you would take with you to the end of the world, what you truly feel will never get old, and what continues to grow on you as you grow up. Although it seems unimaginable to pick just THREE albums that would get you through a period of absolute desertion, it must be done—you know, just in case it actually happens. Music Beat writers Chris Troop and Holden Caplan have set out to explain their Desert Island Discs and why they keep them in an emergency Walkman case in their room at all times. It’s time to get sentimental.
Holden's Choices:
- The Wall—Pink Floyd
This album introduced me to the idea that an album could be more than just a compilation of great songs. The Wall is a rock opera, one that tells the most interesting stories in rock history. It covers fascism, family relationships, drugs, and most importantly, the life of a rockstar. Pink, the protagonist, is a clear representation of Roger Waters and how he sees himself in the music industry. It’s a perfect story of learning the shadows of fame and coping with the loneliness it causes musicians. When David Gilmour comes in on “Comfortably Numb” to deliver one of the most recognizable guitar solos of all time, I still feel the chills. This song alone is enough to convince me this album is excellent, and it’s not even the headlining song. The Wall is everything an album should be, and for that it will stay eternally awesome in my life.
2. For Emma, Forever Ago—Bon Iver
For about three years, this was the most played album on my iTunes. From 9th to 11th grade, I would fall asleep to the layered hums of Justin Vernon over quiet guitar strumming. Every time I listen to it, I feel myself teleported to the old cabin in Wyoming where it was recorded. The vulnerability he shows on his debut album is as refreshing as it is haunting. His pain is something you can feel, regardless of whether you have felt the kind of heartbreak he has suffered. What is most impressive about Bon Iver on this album is that his ability to express his feelings through music can be felt without even hearing the lyrics, but the meaning behind the lyrics adds a whole other level of complexity to his emotion. Tracks like “Flume,” “Re: Stacks” and “For Emma” are all honest love ballads, yet played in the most peaceful form. For Emma is an album I can put on any night; it fills the empty space with something truly beautiful.
3. Elephant—The White Stripes
My fondest memory of car rides with my family during my adolescence was when my parents would put on “The Hardest Button To Button,” just so I could sit there and mouth every lyric. When I bought my first iPod Shuffle, the first album I downloaded on it was Elephant. I was obsessed with the punk rock attitude of these folky characters, mixing some of the most thrashy songs like “The Air Near My Fingers” with quiet love songs like “You’ve Got Her In Your Pocket” on the same album. The simplicity of each song made it so I could always find the one to fit with my mood, or just sit there in the car, experiencing a wave of different emotions on the bus home everyday. This album is the predecessor to the ‘playlist’ album of today, where you don’t have to play anything else, ever really, because the album is so versatile. Elephant was the culmination of everything Jack and Meg White had worked on over their past two albums and set a new standard for rock during a decade when many thought the genre had been suffocated by hip–hop.
Chris' Selection:
- Mothership Connection—Parliament
This album is probably the most fun you can have in 38 minutes. It is unsubtle, silly, messily produced, and an absolute masterclass in funk riff writing. I have a serial weakness for enormous horn arrangements and blame can mainly be placed on the influence this album had on my taste. Throughout this record, George Clinton works his magic and Parliament’s vague afro–futuristic space theme actually becomes coherent. As it opens, he commands, “do not adjust your radio…” and lays down his agenda for the album; to “funk” his audience up. Of course, one of the clear highlights is the seminal crossover hit “Give Up The Funk”, but the standout track for me is actually “Unfunky UFO,” with its Hazel–inspired guitar riff, triumphant horn sections, and Bootsy Collins slaying on the bass. This was the album that was my gateway to appreciating hip–hop and eventually drove me to pick up the bass as my primary instrument for a while. George Clinton here delivers a lesson on the importance of sheer fun in music, and that is a lesson I will never forget.
2. Remain in Light—Talking Heads
There tend to be two types of Talking Heads fans—those who believe the more analog, guitar–focused Speaking in Tongues is the band’s masterpiece and those who prefer the industrial, African inspired, funk–driven joy ride that is Remain in Light. No prizes for guessing which camp I belong to. It wastes absolutely no time in setting its tone with the immensely catchy and metallic “Born Under Punches,” which is, to this day, my favorite opening to any album. This record blends so many genres together seamlessly that I can hardly get my head around the achievement. It is part concept album, part funk odyssey, part experimental electronic album, and utterly danceable throughout. Byrne screeches like a mad preacher throughout, while his backing band craft a jagged, eclectic groove out of what sound like factory instruments. What really struck me about this album was just how creative each and every track is off it—to an extent that is almost undateable in its use of effects and song structure. If this album came out this year, it wouldn’t be a stretch to call its sound futuristic. For want of a better phrase, this was mind–blowing.
3. Surf’s Up—The Beach Boys
The album’s title track is my favorite song of all time. When one thinks of the Beach Boys, the predominant image is one of saccharine, early 60s harmonies and idyllic California lifestyle which centers around surfing, girls, summer, and driving one’s car to the beach. This record will do more than shatter that allusion. It was crafted and written at a time when Brian Wilson was suffering from a myriad of mental health issues, and what he created was haunting and absolutely unique. “Surf’s Up” itself is one of the great vocal performances: it starts as a simple voice and piano ballad but twists and morphs into something unbelievably creative. His voice multiplies, there are several key changes, a towering, warm bass part is added in and, in a rather macabre way, you hear him spiral into his own mind. It is simply stunning and a testament to Wilson’s boundless creativity and manipulation of his voice. Kanye has often said that his favourite instrument is the human voice, and I cannot think of a better example than the title track off this album. Other highlights include “Disney Girls” and the equally impactful “‘Til I Die.” I have not encountered an album similar, and part of me wishes that I never do.
