Talking about my first 10 albums requires a certain amount of honesty and backstory that may be a bit much for a simple album list that's supposed to be for fun. But when Joe Hardtke encouraged us to share our first 10 albums on Twitter, I felt compelled to really be honest with you.
I won't sugarcoat it - my childhood was weird and not always happy. I grew up in a tiny, rural, no stoplight town in Louisiana that was about as fun and evolved as the town in the movie Footloose, except there was no glittery dance with cute boys and understanding parents in the end. It was intensely religious, with Baptist and Pentecostal making up an even 50/50, in the sinister kind of way that breeds intolerance rather than love and compassion. I will never forget being 15 years old and having one of the matrons of the church tell me and my friends we'd better never invite an "n word" to church, or seeing KKK recruitment fliers around even when I was a senior in high school. I could regale you with wild stories over beers for hours, but it was the type of place where being on the basketball team was far more admirable than anything academic you could ever achieve, and where a young girl desperately dreamed of escaping.
I was a painfully shy and introverted kid who had trouble trusting or relating to people, a product born of intense bullying in school and parents who at best seemed to find me puzzling and annoying most of the time. I, with my frizzy hair, chonky physique and giant glasses, wasn't going to be beautiful or athletic like my mother. My sensitive poetry writing, book worm, curious and adventurous self definitely wasn't going to be a "logical" math genius homebody like my dad. I strongly felt the disappointment I caused day to day, and one of my saving graces was that I was an animal lover who grew up on a hobby farm. No matter what was going on indoors with the humans, there was a menagerie of horses, cows, dogs and cats who were always thrilled to see me outdoors. To this day, I still feel more comfortable and prefer hanging out with animals over people, and part of the reason I am vegan now is to repay the kindness and love so freely given by my childhood pets to a lonely kid who desperately needed it.
My relationship with music was very strange, because in some ways I lived in a very musical house. My parents had quite the collection of vinyls from the 50's through 70's that I was allowed to play, many of which I'm thrilled to have been passed on as an adult. I still find pleasure and comfort in every scratch and pop of my parent's Dick Clark: 20 Years of Rock and Roll album. The Big Chill soundtrack, Creedence and The Eagles were always on rotation, and I first fell in love with The Beach Boys at 7 years old. On the flip side, I grew up with a mom who would have happily taken a seat next to Tipper and the gang at the PMRC hearings, and a dad who was too checked out and feelings avoidant to take a side. Everything else musically I was interested in, and I do mean everything, was labeled as devil worshiping. I didn't see a lick of MTV that wasn't at a friend's home, and I well remember being yelled at when I made the fatal mistake of singing Madonna under my breath while grabbing a snack from the kitchen. Madonna was slutty, and good girls were not slutty. Good girls must always think of their reputations, or so I was told.
But as kids and forbidden music seem to do, they find a way. My grandmother, a delightful lady who always kept mini Kit-Kats on hand for me, taught me ALL the swears I know and loved me unconditionally, made it clear that my secret CDs and tapes always had a home at her house. And so they did, even up to and including a pair of shorts with the Ugly Kid Joe logo on them. (I desperately wish I still had those.) My brother caught on, and soon his 2 Live Crew and N.W.A. records managed to find their way there too. It was a judgement free zone filled with Anne Murray, Perry Como, Metallica, and Cyprus Hill, and I will let you guess who owned what. My aunt, another strong and important female figure in my life, would pass me VHS tapes of the MTV Music Awards and CDs she knew I wanted. It was hard though. I didn't have a dignified Almost Famous sibling spirit guide introducing me to artists or anyone teaching me what was cool. My definition of "edgy" was different than everyone else's. My friends were all growing up under the same oppressive types of parenting in varying degrees, so until the grunge era, we were all in the same stunted and sheltered boat. I was trying to cling to happiness and escapism however I could get it. This is all to say that my first 10 albums are random and maybe a little uncool by some people's standards.
For the record, my life is much happier now. I moved out of that small town to a bigger city where I could be myself, and married a wonderful man who happens to be a living, breathing music encyclopedia. My life is absolutely filled with all kinds of music now, and I love it. If I'm being honest though, my music gaps are still so vast that it's mildly hilarious that I co-host a music based podcast. A bulk of my education has come from Eric, who has been immensely patient and enthusiastic to introduce me to artists such as Nick Cave, Tom Waits, Frank Zappa and hundreds more throughout our marriage, and the rest has come from doing episodes for the podcast. My music knowledge is something I'll always have to work hard at. I have found such joy in "discovering" artists who are new to me, especially strong women who I think could have really helped a very shy and angry girl back in the 90's. At least their messages are there for me to digest now.
There is something about my first 10 albums though that is so very dear to me, and there's nothing here I'm really that embarrassed about. Some are probably considered "uncool", but even so they represent an act of defiance and what a young, determined girl was able to cobble together in secret until she could start broadening her horizons.
1. The Best of Ritchie Valens
If you listened to my friend Josh's La Bamba episode on his podcast Movies That Rock, you'll know that my grandmother was obsessed with Lou Diamond Phillips and the move La Bamba, ergo I also became obsessed. I was 8 or so when it came out and remember the beginning of the film when Ritchie dreams about his friend being killed under plane wreckage really scaring and haunting me. But I fell in love with the soundtrack and while I didn't fully understand who Ritchie was at that time, I felt incredibly sad that he died so young. I got it into my head that I NEEDED to own one of his albums, and since my grandmother was always willing to indulge any whim I might have at the moment, drove me to the mall.
I will never forget the withering look I got from the guy at the record shop in our mall when I asked him if they had anything by Ritchie Valens in stock. He said no, but that he could special order a CD for me, with a hesitant are you sure tone, but I wasn't to be denied. I placed my order and 5 weeks later (oh the dark days before Amazon Prime) I had the only album available from the special order list, The Best of Ritchie Valens. Because it's a best of compilation, there's hardly a dud on here, but I still especially get a thrill from "Ooh My Head" and "Framed". And it doesn't get much more dreamy than "We Belong Together".
2. Extreme: Pornograffiti
With tracks like "Little Jack Horny" this album was most certainly one that had to be kept at my grandmother's house. Of course I mooned over boys to tracks like "More Than Words" and "When I First Kissed You" is genuinely kind of beautiful. But tracks like "Get The Funk Out" started suggesting to me that music could have an edge of anger and defiance, and that wild guitar intro to "Decadence Dance" kind of blew my mind.
I feel like Extreme is one of those "hair bands" that everyone loves to hate on, but Nuno Bettencourt is one of finest guitar players alive, and Gary Cherone is certainly no slouch vocally. I guess that's my long-winded way of saying that I still own and listen to Pornograffiti unironically and without apology. I mean hey, "When I'm President" contains a more clear and sane political plan than any we've gotten in the last 4 years, so there is that.
3. Guns n' Roses: Use Your Illusion I & II
(Yes, technically these are two separate albums, but as my husband will tell you, I love music list loopholes that allow me an extra choice.)
So, confession...I didn't buy these, but rather stole them from my brother's room and never returned them. (I finally told him probably 2 years ago and he laughed hysterically). What can I say, I was totally in love with Eddie Furlong at the time and NEEDED the album that had "You Could Be Mine" from Terminator 2. I was also obsessed with the "November Rain" video and thought a shirtless Slash playing unplugged in the desert was the hottest thing since Eddie Furlong.
I backwards engineered my way to Appetite for Destruction via the Illusion albums and ended up becoming a huge Guns fan because of them. I know they are slightly self indulgent albums, but the good stuff is SO good, especially the tracks from Part II. (We won't speak of "Get In The Ring") "Civil War" is such an amazing song, "Estranged" has one of my favorite series of Slash solos and "So Fine" is a surprisingly romantic track. I was delighted years later to hear it sung live in 2012 by Duff McKagan at House of Blues show in Cleveland. It was the evening before Guns n' Roses was inducted into the Rock Hall, my first time in Cleveland and my first Rock Hall ceremony. I felt like I'd somehow come full circle on a chapter in my life.
4. Wilson Phillips: Wilson Phillips
"I know that there is pain, but you hold on for one more day and break free from the chains."
Is this album a bit cheesy? Maybe, but the lyrics to "Hold On" really spoke to me when I was young and hated...everything. I hated where I lived, how I looked and generally everything about my circumstances, and that song was a bit of an anthem for me. It represented being someone different, of getting out of the town I was in and being happy. Being on the other side of breaking free from the chains is pretty damn satisfying honestly.
I'm not the only one with great affection for this album it seems, judging by the brilliant end to Bridesmaids. That album is like a not so secret 90's girl handshake that unites us.
5. Janet Jackson: Rhythm Nation
If there was ever evidence of Janet's greatness and her appeal, she managed to reach a young white girl in a backward ass Southern town. I was in awe of her and with her military-eque garb on the album cover, thought she was the absolute coolest chick in the world. I wore this cassette OUT, and for good reason, every single song on it is amazing. It represents joy and fun for me, and I STILL throw on "Escapade" when I'm gassing myself up before a vacation, and "Miss You Much" is still one of my favorites of hers. "Come Back To Me" is so sad, but so dignified. And who could resist the explosive joy of "Love Will Never Do Without You"?
And just TODAY I discovered a delightful and unexpected connection between two of my albums. Janet appears on the song "Money (In God We Trust)" on Extreme's Pornograffiti, and in turn Nuno Bettencourt played guitar on one of my favorite Rhythm Nation tracks, "Black Cat". Mind blown.
I will never hear "Black Cat" and not think of all the times I took my horse out for a trail ride and absolutely cranked that song on my Walkman while galloping at full speed. It's a dramatic and almost cringey memory to write out, but it's also a memory of feeling free and relating to the angry edge of Janet's vocal. When I was doing research for our episode on the late Selena, seeing that "Black Cat" was one of her favorite songs touched me and made me feel an even deeper connection to her. It really is unquestionably a bop, but the entire album is obviously.
6. Nelson: After The Rain
The hair. The harmonies. The wildly popular album that was all over the radio in the 90's.
I don't know if their dad being Ricky Nelson gave them some kind of "they couldn't possibly be Satanic" street cred, but this is one of the few groups I remember not causing too much flack for me, up to and including somehow being allowed to have a poster of them in my room. On my ceiling. Scandal!
Real talk, I still unapologetically enjoy the shit out of this album. It's fun, well produced pop rock with two lead singers who I would argue have a pretty damn impressive family pedigree, and there is something about it that still hits me in the right way. "Only Time Will Tell" and "Everywhere I Go" still hit me in the feels, and "Can't Live Without Your Love and Affection" still makes me feel that butterflies in the stomach, mooning over boys back in the day kind of feeling. There are a couple of pretty instrumental tracks on here too, "Tracy's Song" and "Interlude", that I think I would encourage people to check out.
7. Metallica: The Black Album
I suppose of all of these, this was the edgiest I dared to have at the time and captured an anger that I rarely allowed myself to feel. "The Unforgiven" especially resonated, and "Don't Tread On Me" somehow felt like an anthem for a girl who felt awfully bullied and treaded on. It was probably my gateway drug that prepped me for the grunge era and the realization that "angry" music could be like a therapy session. I had many cringey moments headbanging by myself alone, feeling SO tough listening to this album.
This is another album that seemingly, at least to my ears, doesn't have a bad track. Yes some of the songs like "Sad But True" may have suffered from overplay on the radio, but I still somehow feel a thrill when I hear that "Enter Sandman" intro.
Hilariously, this was one of the albums my 70 something grandmother would allow me to bring with us in the car or play around her house. Looking back, she must have absolutely hated it, but let me listen to it without complaint regardless. I guess that was a pretty good trade off for listening to Perry Como with her.
8. Paula Abdul: Forever Your Girl
Boy this is a segue from Metallica isn't it?
Hot take and possibly unpopular opinion, I'm salty as hell no one mentions Paula for the Rock Hall. I don't think I can quantify how huge she was for us girls, we absolutely adored her. And what an influence she's had on dance in the pop world, including teaching Miss Jackson AND her brothers some moves. I really don't think we would have the Britney Spears of the world without her. People who pretend she doesn't matter are wrong.
Every single song on this album is amazing and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. (Yes even "Opposites Attract", I will stan MC Skat Kat forever!) There are obviously some typical romantic songs on here like "Forever Your Girl" and "The Way That You Love Me", but holy shit there are a couple of take no mess girl power songs too. "Straight Up" is such a great tune still, not to mention that tap routine at the beginning of the video. And "Cold Hearted,"my God. Such a great song and that video still to this day has some of the toughest, sexiest and most difficult choreography you'll find.
9. Def Leppard: Adrenalize
Y'all I was INTO this album. How into it was I? I had a Def Leppard baseball cap, which of course my grandmother purchased for me, and I decided it wasn't Def Leppardy enough, so I took fucking Puffy paint and wrote the names of the songs from the album on it. I'm like the Eagles, I will take it to the limit.
Hilariously, this is the only album on here I feel a bit of blushing cringe about. Don't get me wrong, I love Def Leppard overall and I'll still listen to some of Adrenalize but come on..."Make Love Like A Man"? I mean, what in the world? And I want to give my young self at pat on the head for thinking that "Let's Get Rocked" was some edgy, defiant shit, but there it is. I do still have a soft spot for "Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad", which was somehow always played at our school dances. If there was ever song to feel angsty about your crush to, that song is it.
I will never forget that the mom of one of my friends told me I was a bad influence for lending her daughter this album. Hilarious in hindsight, but I don't blame her for side-eyeing a girl willing to Puffy paint a hat, I would have thought it was a cult too.
10. Better Than Ezra: Deluxe
This is a band that most people outside of Louisiana don't have a GREAT deal of exposure to other than the song "Good", and I'm hoping to change this. I loved Better Than Ezra. I still love Better Than Ezra. They are a truly great little band with a fun catalog, and probably one of the most fun shows you'll ever see.
My favorite BTE album is Friction, Baby followed by Closer, but Deluxe is no slouch for me on the fond memories front. "In The Blood" is a hell of a way to kick off an album, every one of us girls thought Kevin had written "Southern Gurl" just for us, and "Porcelain" still hits me in that pure and beautiful way it did when I was young. "Summerhouse" is haunting and amazing, and while I'm pretty sure Kevin Griffin hates this song, "This Time of Year" still fills my heart with nostalgia.
Thanks for listening guys. - Mary
