Rage Against the Machine - Rage Against the Machine

Rage Against the Machine’s debut album is a combination of genres that captures the best of each of them. Unforgettable metal guitar riffs. Lyrics delivered with unmatched energy and passion and, well, rage.

So why does this album make me so damn happy? I’ve frequently complained about music that sounds, well, complainy in the past. That’s not a vibe that I can get onboard with. But there’s a big difference between complaining and Raging. Complaining is often relegated to small issues - girls don’t like me, my truck broke down, nobody gets my tattoos, my parents don’t like my music. But Raging… Raging is for when the problems are bigger. It’s for when the problems are on a societal or global level, so big that there’s literally no point in getting down in the dumps about them. You just have to rage, and if you can do so with a guitar in your hand, so much the better.

Conveying emotion is one of music’s main jobs, and this does it extremely well. I think the true signal that you’ve found a favorite song or artist is when that emotion rings a bell with you - that could mean it matches your mood, or even contrasts with it. Does my liking this album mean I’ve got some rage against the system buried somewhere? Probably, and I’ll bet we all do. Music is teaching me about myself as much as anything else. But hey, I’m no psychiatrist, I just dig music. 🤘

Jams

• “Bombtrack”

• “Killing In The Name”

• “Freedom”

Little Earthquakes - Tori Amos

This album is very obviously genius. I’ll admit I found myself disliking small, surface-level things - I’m not a fan of her frequent over-emoting or her unusual vibrato, for example - but at the same time I realize that level of critique is way too reductive for songs of this scope and magnitude, not to mention that these are beloved traits for many people. More importantly, I’ve learned that when I zero in on the surface level details of music and ignore everything else, that means I’m not really getting the bigger picture - or in this case, that I don’t want to because of how depressed the music makes me feel. I’m diverting my attention to something I can get my head around, and that usually means something simple like a tone or a few singular moments in the music.

The subject matter is varied, if consistently a bit downcast for my taste; raging against prettier girls and bullies, lamenting loneliness and emotional distance, exploring the struggles of leaving home. There’s dense poetry, raw emotion, and incredible talent on display here. You could call it angst, but that word is somehow too small.

It’s interesting to know how powerful and brilliant an album is while simultaneously having zero desire to listen to it ever again. I chalk that up to how emotional Tori Amos’ songwriting truly is - it has the power to force emotions on the listener, and for me that means it has the power to put me in a shitty mood. This album is a massive thundercloud - it’s beautiful, impressive, and harnesses the power of emotion in an epic way; some people like chasing storms, but I personally don’t want to go outside until the lightning and thunder have passed.

From the roundup Jamwise #39 - Best of 1992, Pt. 1.