Ash Album Recommendations: "1977"

Album Recommendations: 1977

The old five-point scale has been retired in favor of just rating stuff 1-10, which allows me a much more nuanced final rating. Still don't take it that seriously. Most of these come from my own collection, so the grades skew rather high. Your results may vary if you send me stuff to review.

Each album is given three Essential tracks, my personal favorites, regardless of how weird and inconsequential they are. The Quintessential pick is the one I think best represents the album as a whole, so you can try one song instead of a whole album of songs. Non-Essential picks range from merely disappointing to outright unlistenable.

Ash

[#] 1977 (1997)

It's better than what I was up to as a teenager.

Reviewed March 18, 2024

British bands run on extremes. They're either xenophobically so or reject it completely. Ash on their debut 1977 falls squarely in the latter category. Despite the britpop tag that was, really, given to any Brit band with guitars sans Radiohead in the late 90s, the only real evidence that this isn't a uniquely American release comes from the Northern Irish twang in guitarist's Tim Wheeler's young, tiny voice. Ash's rhythm section is solid but unremarkable, and the guitars are heavy, thick, and perhaps lack definition. Your taste for this record will come down to your age (or age at heart) and how much you like your rock bands to riff—even if there is, perhaps, too much riffage.

I can tell you there is no cooler feeling than sitting in a plane taking off while the compressed, 200MPH guitar blitz of "Lose Control" blares in your headphones. Lyrically, there's very little here besides girls, kung-fu movies, and a bit of drinking, but about half the time, the winding, strange vocal melodies and hooks—"Goldfinger"'s angular key changes, the buzzing, swooshing blackness of the awesome closer "Darkside Lightside"—put 1977 over the top. The other half is about four songs too long (take your pick which ones). It's the needless indulgences like "Innocent Smile"'s six minute disappearance into its own butthole only to come back with a slow reprise that temper my love for 1977, but goddamn if "Girl From Mars" isn't the finest hold music NASA has ever used.