Readers respond: ‘The records that changed my life’

In the Union-Tribune’s Sunday May 10 edition of Arts + Culture, I wrote about the records that changed my life and invited readers to tell us about the records that changed their lives.

Here are more than a dozen of the responses we received. The passion readers have for a diverse range of musical styles is readily apparent.

‘Life could be much darker’

I was in my earliest twenties when I first listened to the Rolling Stones’ “Exile On Main Street,” which changed my life in a way that the film “Midnight Cowboy” also did (both were “scary”). For the first time, I realized that life could be much darker than I had been experiencing in my sunny, surf city hometown of San Diego.

Ron Fields
Imperial Beach

‘My life has definitely been touched’

I’m neither a great fan of rock and roll (except maybe Queen, the Beatles and Joni Mitchell!) nor of jazz. I’ve been more involved with classical music. And then, sometime in the 1990s, I heard a Claude Bolling album. His creation of cross-over music spoke to me! From then on, I couldn’t stop listening to his albums. I’m a flutist, so I was particularly drawn to his “Suite for Flute with Jazz Piano Trio,” but another favorite is “Jazz à la Française.” I’ve gone to hear him many times in Paris jazz clubs which led me to his protegé Pierre-Yves Plat. My life has definitely been touched and enhanced by Claude Bolling.

Lauren Golden
Encinitas

Really a tough exercise!

I have read your reviews for years and enjoyed your memorable albums article in the Sunday paper. I decided to send my list in and found out it is really a tough exercise! Had to warm up the Dual 1209 turntable and the Sansui 5000A amplifier and reconfirm the vinyl still sounds the same. It does, and it’s fun to serenade the neighbors at 65 watts per channel!

The Ventures, “Knock Me Out”; Jimi Hendrix Experience, “Are You Experienced?”; Bo Diddley, “Bo Diddley”; Paul Butterfield Blues Band, “Paul Butterfield Blues Band”; The Allman Brothers Band, “At Fillmore East”; George Benson, “White Rabbit”; Mahavishnu Orchestra, “Inner Mounting Flame”; The Beatles, “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band.”

Can this list ever really be complete? Not really; but I loved revisiting all of the above.

Thanks for your work over the years!

Bob Defenbaugh
Poway

‘Really got me to dive in’

As always, I enjoyed your write-up in Sunday’s paper. (Yes, I still prefer good old newsprint). I just this week made a list of the 10 most influential albums in my life, at the suggestion of a friend. Perhaps you both got the inspiration from same source. I’m 67 and graduated from high school in 1971, so my list reflects that time period. Some of the groups were already familiar but these albums really got me to dive in to that artists catalog.

In alphabetical order:

1. The Beach Boys, “Holland” (I knew they could do more than surf/car tunes.)

2. The Beatles, “Meet the Beatles” (First album I ever bought. Still have it.)

3. David Bowie, “The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders from Mars” (Polished rock like I’d never heard before)

4. The Doors, “Strange Days” (Led me to explore “darkness in life”; also my first live concert (Santa Barbara, summer of ’68).

5. Fleetwood Mac, “Kiln House” (Not one “hit” but a joy to listen to. Pre-pop stardom.)

6. The Kinks, “Lola vs. Powerman and The Moneygoround, Part One” (Music written with something to say.)

7. Rolling Stones, “12x5” (American blues done by a group of English kids. Who knew? Seen them on every tour since ‘72)

8. Bruce Springsteen, “Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J.” (My first American troubadour.)

9. The Who, “Who’s Next” (I wore that 4-track tape out!)

10. Dwight Yoakam, “Guitars, Cadillacs, Etc.” (I discovered that country can rock, too.)

Thanks. Hoping we’ll get back to live music soon

Randy Hawley
Imperial Beach

‘Six records that changed my life’

Thank you for agreeing with me that “Revolver” is the true crowning glory of The Beatles’ work; I consider that 1966 masterpiece one of the many (many) records to have changed my life as well. With that said, I put forth to you a sample of my list (all 300 of the albums I own were contenders).

Here are six records that changed my life (other than “Revolver”).

Talking Heads, “Fear of Music” (1979): “Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens” — that line alone touched my warped, young soul the first time I ever laid eyes on the Talking Heads’ concert movie monolith “Stop Making Sense.” The Head’s third album (produced by the almighty Brian Eno) is conceptualized around unorthodox rhythms and apocalyptic phobias, which taught me to embrace music as a form of solace during dark times. Confusing, threatening, uplifting, provoking–this is the album I still turn to when I find myself alone or creatively at a standstill.

David Bowie, “Low” (1977): Another great album produced by Brian Eno, “Low” is the first of Bowie’s ‘Berlin Trilogy’–a series of three albums he conceptualized while trying to escape his own demons and addictions in Berlin. Bowie has been my favorite music artist ever since my six-year-old self looked Jareth the Goblin King dead in the eyes as he said: “Babe with the power.” At the time of “Low’s” release, reception was mixed as many critics and listeners had difficulty wrapping their minds around the artist’s divergence from the “Ziggy Stardust sound,” but now critics refer to “Low” as one of the best albums to come out of the decade. For me, I connect immediately to “The Man Who Fell to Earth” Bowie the most; an alien of sorts whom has just been planted on a foreign planet and is expected to blend in.

The Kinks, The Great Lost Kinks Album (1973): The Kinks were a revolutionary band, full of sardonic wit and punk hooks, ready to give the Beatles a contest and squelched by an inability to rack up commercial success. Ray Davies just wanted to write and play quality music. But the true magic of the band lies in the musical synergy of the Davies brothers–as highlighted so finely in this ‘lost’ collection of cuts from the recording of “The Village Green Preservation Society.” After mildly delving into the world of the Kinks for years, I acquired a copy of “The Great Lost Kinks Album” for my twenty-fourth birthday and finally comprehended their genius. Davies may have intended for these tracks to remain unheard and unreleased but I am glad Reprise Records breached that idea since this album is a smash from beginning to end.

Steely Dan, “Aja” (1977): Funny story: My parents had vastly different music taste (my mom liked Neil Diamond, my dad liked Pink Floyd), but Steely Dan resonated with the both of them and their shared love of the band partially led to them starting a relationship. So, Steely Dan is the reason I was born. Obviously, I needed to include a Steely Dan album on this list (all of them helped shape my music taste in some way, partially because I inherited two copies of each). My rationale for choosing “Aja” is as follows: The saxophone solo (by Wayne Shorter) on “Deacon Blues” makes any existential crisis worth riding out.

Radiohead, “The Bends” (1995): Radiohead fans love to fuel pedantry over which album is the best but for me, “The Bends” wins every time. For a band as consistent as Radiohead, listening to “The Bends” was the first time I felt I truly understood them artistically. As a writer with a general sense of melancholy, I typically gravitate toward melodies with pained agendas, which are strong throughout the entire album. “Fake Plastic Trees” will forever be, the song I put on when I need a good cry and a creative boost of inspiration.

Kate Bush, “The Kick Inside” (1978): Kate Bush was not like the other lady artists of her time — she aspired to rise to the level of her male contemporaries. Amidst the birth of punk-rock and New Wave, Bush turned to a penchant for the baroque to construct one of the most jarring and enigmatic records to date. As a girl who digs records, there lies a certain expectation from others for me to worship Fleetwood Mac — but there is just something about the Stevie Nicks bandwagon (and other female artists) I cannot grasp hold of. Kate Bush’s “Wuthering Heights” was the first song I heard from “The Kick Inside” and I was instantaneously hooked. Bush didn’t just sing about the ‘pretty’ parts of being a woman, she sang about the sad, the real, the grotesque — “Strange Phenomena” is about puberty. Moreover, she acknowledged the testosterone we possess and proved that women musicians can play with the boys.

Thanks again for your contributions to music journalism. I really enjoyed this exercise.
Sincerely,

Cori Wilbur
North Park

‘Did it speak to me?’

I am a longtime reader. I have enjoyed your columns so much and am happy to respond to your article on albums that have changed my life. My criteria is: extremely listenable based on the music I love; did it turn me on to an artist that has endured forever (whether a debut or other early album); did it speak to me on either a personal or more universal level; or maybe just a great album by an otherwise pedestrian group. In no particular order:

Camel, “The Snow Goose”; R.E.M., “Life’s Rich Pageant”; Beat Farmers, “Tales of The New West”; Bill Frisell, “This Land”; John Lennon, “Plastic Ono Band” and “Imagine”; Graham Parker & The Rumour, “Howlin’ Wind” and “Heat Treatment”; U2, “War”; Bruce Springsteen, “Born To Run”; Guided By Voices, “Alien Lanes” and “Bee Thousand”; Tom Petty & The Heatbreakers, “Tom Petty & The Heatbreakers”; Kansas, “Kansas”; Lisa Sanders, “Isn’t Life Fine?”; Black Keys, “The Big Come Up”; Uriah Heep, “Demons & Wizards”; Savoy Brown, “Street Corner Talking”; Gang of Four, “Entertainment,” Creedence Clearwater Revival; “20 Greatest Hits”; The Clash, “London Calling”; Lucinda Williams, “Good Souls, Better Angels”

I’m sure I missed a few. And, of course, personally with Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen, it’s their whole body of work. Throw in John Prine and Linda Ronstadt; I should stop! What a great way to engage your reading audience in these tough times. Thanks.

Ken Patterson
Carlsbad

‘You had me nailed at ‘Hot Rats’

I loved your life-changing records list. I don’t find many people with musical taste as eclectic as mine. You had me nailed at (Frank Zappa’s “Hot Rats”). I probably would add either Yo-Yo Ma or Mstislav Rostopovich’s recordings of Bach’s solo cello pieces. I was able to find all of your recommendations on Spotify and I created a playlist. The one exception is that I couldn’t find Paco de Lucia’s album, so I added an anthology that contains his “Solo Quiero Caminar” album. Thanks again.

Robert T. Van Hook
San Diego

‘Life-changing albums’

I agree with your choice of The Beatles’ “Revolver.” I want to check out Frank Zappa’s “Hot Rats”.

Here is my list of my life changing albums: Camel, “Moonmadness”; Genesis, “Foxtrot”; New Music, “Sanctuary”; Lush, “Spooky”; Phil Manzanera, “Listen Now”; Torch Song, “Wish Thing”; Nazz, “Nazz Nazz”; Prefab Sprout, “Two Wheels Good”; Quicksilver Messenger Service, “Quicksilver Messenger Service”; Yes, “Close to The Edge.”

I hope you like some of them.

Dave Wright
Mira Mesa

‘A masterful blend’

I really enjoyed your article. My tributary album is “Trace” by Son Volt. It’s a masterful blend of Americana, alt-country and straight-ahead rock. The lyrics showcase Jay Farrar at his peak. This album opened me up to many similar artists, (including) of course, Uncle Tupelo and Wilco, but also groups like Whiskeytown, The Replacements and Patty Griffith. Son Volt did a 20th anniversary concert for this album a few years ago at The Troubadour in L.A. It was in incredible show at a famous venue and a night my wife and I will never forget.

I must also give credit to a San Diego radio station, FM102.1, which was known as KPRI at the end of its existence. It was a station that was brave enough to play the less popular artists, like the ones I have noted here. They too were a tributary for the expansion of my musical taste. It’s a shame they are no longer on the air.

Chris Lore
Del Cerro

‘His music was stunning’

Nice write up on the albums. Of course it got me thinking...

“Don’t Crush That Dwarf, Hand Me the Pliers” Firesign Theatre, 1970

I remember sitting in a high school friend’s bedroom my junior year of high school when he put a Firesign Theatre album on his record player. He was laughing, I was trying to figure out what was going on.

Who’s making comedy albums like this? I grew up reading Mad Magazine and had just starting listening to The Credibility Gap on radio station KRLA. It was subversive, it was an eye opener to a humor I didn’t know existed. We memorized “Don’t Crush That Dwarf, Hand Me the Pliers.” We played it at lunchtime in the school cafeteria. The humor of Peter Bergman, Phil Proctor, Phil Austin and David Ossman was like a rite of passage. “Shoes for industry...”

“The Heart of Saturday Night” Tom Waits, 1974

My friend called. He’d been to McCabe’s Guitar Shop (in Santa Monica)to see Jackson Browne. Browne invited Tom Waits to the piano to play a few songs and my friend said I had to see him.

I wrote for my college paper and could get into the Troubadour. That’s where I saw Waits. I couldn’t figure out if he was legit. His speech, the way he dressed and beer bottles appearing from his coat pocket seemed almost a parody. But his music was stunning.

I went out and bought his recently released album right away. The lyrics were straightforward, poetic and unashamedly sentimental. His relaxed boozy singing style was far different from the other rock albums I was listening to at the time. I spent many evenings with my headphones on listening to that vinyl album by Waits. Forty-six years later, it is one of the albums I listen to the most.

“The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle”. Bruce Springsteen, 1973

I was a copy-boy at the Houston Chronicle in 1974. For some reason, outside of New Jersey, Bruce Springsteen had a huge following in Texas. I came from L.A. (where) nobody talked about Springsteen or even knew who he was. I ended up as an usher at a Springsteen concert at the Houston Music Hall.

I didn’t know what to expect. When the show started, I abandoned my duties and jumped into the orchestra pit with my camera. It was a religious experience. I’d seen Cream, Dylan, Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones and many more, but never been more moved by a performance or set list of songs, almost all taken from “The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle.” In January, I started my Junior year at UC San Diego. Everywhere I went, I had the album under my arm. I would put it on at parties. I would play the cassette in my car for anyone who would listen — and nobody liked it. I was crushed. It didn’t change their life like it did mine. To this day, I view it as a near-perfect album and play it often. But when “Born to Run” came out, I refused to jump on the bandwagon and never bought or listened to it.

Thanks for taking the time,

Bob Hansen
Rancho Penasquitos

‘The cream of my Madchester crop’

1. The B-52’s, “Wild Planet” (1980, Warner Bros). I just started junior high in a new town at a new school and was making new friends and discovering new music. This album reminds me of applying makeup in non-traditional ways, finding crazy ways to dress, and dancing around having fun at slumber parties. The B-52’s are proof that you can be goofy, have fun and still be professional while donning a beehive.

2. Kate Bush, “Hounds of Love” (1985, EMI). I was a music fish out of water at El Capitan High School. Outside of New Wave and what was being played on 91X at the time, I just couldn’t get into much of what many of my classmates were listening to (Def Leppard, ZZ Top, etc.). Kate was my calling.

3. The Damned, “Anything” (1986, MCA). Along with The Stranglers, I think The Damned was my real intro to what I think of as more musical glammy/punk. A later bonus was learning that my favorite song on the album, “Alone Again Or,” was written by Love’s Bryan MacLean (Maria’s McKee’s half-brother).

4. Doves, “Lost Souls” (2000, Heavenly). I love so many bands from Manchester and the Hacienda era, but Doves is the cream of my “Madchester” crop.

5. Fleetwood Mac, “Rumours” (1977, Warner). I was nine years old and homesick for about two weeks when my dad bought me this album. I’m surprised my parents didn’t take it away since I played it so much, but I suppose it was better than hearing me try to sing it a cappella. I studied the liner notes, memorized the words to every song, and was mesmerized by the cover.

6. PJ Harvey, “Dry” (1992, Pure Records). PJ kicks ass! That is all.

7. Maria McKee, “You Gotta Sin To Get Saved” (1993, Geffen). I’m a lifelong Maria fan. My first choice in the cow-punk, alt-country genre was Lone Justice’s “Lone” Justice, but I’m going with Maria on her own because of THAT VOICE! (Sorry to yell.)

8. Radiohead, “OK Computer” (1997, Capitol). There’s just nobody else quite like this band and while my fave Radiohead song is usually “Fake Plastic Trees,” this is one of those albums you just have to listen to in full. Over and over and over again.

9. Bruce Springsteen, “Devils & Dust” (2005, Columbia). I’m a late convert to the temple of Bruce and, thanks to my boyfriend at the time, I “discovered” this brilliant artist. The only time I’ve seen Bruce live was on this intimate, Bruce-on-a-stage-by-himself tour at the Hollywood Pantages Theater. He won me over hook, line, and sinker.

10. Lucinda Williams, “Car Wheels on a Gravel Road” (1998, Mercury). I thought I didn’t like country music. Then I found Lucinda.

Bonnie Baranoff
La Mesa

‘Here is my modest collection’

George, good stuff! Here is my modest collection, in no particular order: Santana, “Abraxas”; Pink Floyd, “Dark Side of the Moon”; Simon and Garfunkel, “Bridge Over Troubled Water”; Jimi Hendrix, “Band of Gypsys”; Neil Young, “Comes a Time”; Carole King, “Tapestry”; Led Zeppelin, “II”; Little Feat, “Waiting for Columbus”; Pink Floyd, “The Wall”; Alice Cooper, “Killer.”

Thanks.

Douglas Haugen
Clairemont

‘Life-changing’ is different than ‘bests’

Nice line-up in your article. So hard to make a Top 10 in a list like this. Though ‘life-changing’ is different than ‘bests.’ After much narrowing, here goes:

Bob Dylan, “The Freewheeling Bob Dylan” — I got my first guitar at age 10 and learned to play and sing every song on this album. I still believe “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” is one of the greatest songs ever written.

The Beatles, “Rubber Soul” — Set down soil for the roots of my love affair with songs and writing.

Leonard Cohen, “Sisters of Mercy” — Poetic truth in song, love through an incredibly thoughtful and philosophical lens.

Joni Mitchell, “Blue” — In my first year of college she captured my heart and soul; politics, relationships, sensuality.

Neil Young, “After the Gold Rush” — Hope for the romantic, imagination about life and times, looking at commitment.

Joan Armatrading, “Joan Armatrading” — I was blown away by the diverse emotion and subtlety in her art. Humanity is well beyond the sexual or racial cultural politic.

Stevie Wonder, “Innervisions” — How could music and lyrics be so fantastic a symbiotic combination? Moving and inspiring my life and art in every way.

Jackson Browne. “Late for the Sky” — I fell in love with my sweetheart with this soundtrack of tragedy and triumph. A prince of songwriting, indeed.

Merle Haggard, “Back to the Barrooms” — This one came at a time when the stories were so personal and real with the bar scene for me. I realized I had a lot of country in my soul.

Rodney Crowell, “The Outsider” — This guy is one of the most underrated great songwriters I can think of. The emotions are so real and the political comment so pervasive to a community that Rodney Crowell had much contact with… It still resonates.

Dave Moore
Petaluma

‘Bring a big eraser’

Interesting and highly eclectic list of your albums in the May 10th edition of the U-T. I’ll have to explore some of those, since I’ve never been much of a fan of Joan Armatrading or Lauryn Hill.

A couple notes on your selections.

The Beatles’ “Revolver” — Ah, you were lucky to get the full version back in 1966, while those of us stateside had to endure our last cropped Beatles release. Fortunately, we didn’t know we were being scammed at the time.

As you know, most folks view either “Revolver” or “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” as the Fab Four’s penultimate achievement, and you’ve cast your vote. I’m a “Pepper’s Person” myself, but I fully understand the “Revolver” camp. It was undeniably a quantum leap forward, and remains one of my all-time favorites. As an exercise in futility, try ranking the baker’s dozen Beatles albums in order of preference. Bring a big eraser.

Frank Zappa’s “Hot Rats” — I’m really happy Dweezil Zappa is trying to keep Frank’s music alive. I don’t know how successful he’s been, but if any composer deserves eternal recognition for his achievements, it’s FZ. I know this isn’t the Editorial Page, but what would Zappa have thought of Trump? ... I have seen the extended version of “Hot Rats” on Amazon Music, but haven’t gotten to it yet. I’m trying to finish the Deluxe “Zappa In New York” and am down to about the last eight or so songs.

More on Frank below.

Although I have everything from the blatantly pop “Animal Logic” by Animal Logic to Captain Beefheart & Hi Magic Band’s “Trout Mask Replica” in my collection of about a 1200 CDs and 900 LPs, I can’t claim nearly the reach of your Life-Changing Albums. But here are my votes from that library.

The Beatles, “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” — I remember greeting the cover of “Revolver” with some curiosity, but the cover of “Sgt. Pepper’s” was mind-blowing. It’s impossible to add anything of value to the volumes that have been written about this album. But it remains a monumental achievement in the history of Rock music. For me, the most amazing thing is that “Strawberry Fields Forever” and “Penny Lane” were to be included in the LP, but were released as singles instead. (Because EMI thought the record-buying public would forget The Beatles? Hysterically funny.) How much greater would that album have been with the inclusion of those two songs?

Jeff Beck, “Truth” — I had been a fan of Jeff Beck when he was in The Yardbirds. (I’d list them as life-changing, but they didn’t really have many albums. It was their singles that drew me in.) “Beck’s Bolero” was getting lots of airplay, and “Truth” immediately became one of my favorites. Still is to this day. Many writers credit this album as the birth of Heavy Metal, and I get that. But it’s really just blues-rock with an extreme attitude; just like Mr. Beck himself. I saw the “Beck- Ola” tour, and that was a life-changer. To this day it remains one of the best shows I’ve ever witnessed, with Nicky Hopkins, Ron Wood and of course the irascible Rod Stewart (in Beck’s band). I have a whole bunch of Jeff Beck recordings, but he is so prolific it’s nearly impossible to have a complete collection. Of course “Blow By Blow” and “Wired” are stand- outs, and I like the controversial electro albums “Who Else!,” “You Had It Coming” and “Jeff.”

Miles Davis, “Bitches Brew” — This album caused a tremendous disturbance in the force upon its release. I ran out and bought it, listened to it once, and realized there was no way I was ready for this. But I got into jazz fusion via Larry Coryell (he briefly lived next door to us when I was in high school and sold me the bass he used on “Lady Coryell”), Return to Forever, Weather Report and, well, all the musicians who played on “Bitches Brew.” Now I play the album frequently. I’ve heard the “Complete Bitches Brew Sessions” which is a fascinating listen for those familiar with the original 2-LP release. As you can see, this list is Rock-centric, but Miles opened my ears to other possibilities.

The Jimi Hendrix Experience, “Are You Experienced” — I don’t believe I bought this in August of 1967, but by either later that year or early 1968 I had. Fifty-three years later it remains a monumental achievement, nearly un-classifiable. On some levels, it is a product of the psychedelic sixties. But it also remains a unique sonic vision. And let’s pause for a moment to give credit to Mitch Mitchell for his unique and sympathetic stick work. Compare any song he did with a version that Buddy Miles also plays, and you will immediately understand why Mitch was essential to Jimi’s sound. And what a sound. Pure emotion and the ability to effortlessly incorporate electricity into his playing. Nearly every electric guitarist has been influenced by Jimi Hendrix. Many of them don’t even realize it.

Robert Johnson, “King of the Delta Blues Singers” — Although I’m including both volumes, you really need to get “The Complete Recordings” with the cleaned-up sonics and complete discography. There are more chilling blues men (Charley Patton immediately comes to mind), and several as skillful (including Blind Lemon Jefferson and Lonnie Johnson). But “Dead Bob” (as my family likes to call him) is in a class by himself. Great lyrics, great playing, and he skillfully takes you back to some front porch in the Delta with his original songs and playing. I loved Keith Richard’s comment (about Johnson), which went something along the lines of: “I couldn’t figure out who was playing that second guitar.”

The MC5, “Kick Out the Jams” — A few bands have been daring enough to release a live album for their debut. The Blues Project comes immediately to mind. But in retrospect, how could Detroit’s gift to the world have done it any other way? The only way to experience the raw power of the Motor City 5 was a live recording, and they delivered. Sure, there are moments where the band loses focus. But most of that album is pure rock energy, blasted out by young punks with an attitude as deep as the Grand Canyon. Seminal influence on many bands that followed, especially the CBGB crowd.

The Mothers of Invention, “We’re Only In It for the Money” — In 1967 I was given permission to drop the kiddie record player I’d been using and start playing my albums on the Grundig console unit. Oooh...stereo. I had been reading about The Mothers of Invention and how they were “non-music” or “anti-music” which greatly increased my curiosity. In my eighth grade music class, one day students were allowed to bring in their music and one fellow played (The Mothers’) “Hungry Freaks, Daddy” for us. I liked the song, but found it pretty regular. But with the availability of the “good” stereo, I went to the record store. I bought “Moby Grape” which is a great album, but not life-changing. When I found the Mothers of Invention bin there were a few copies of “Freak Out,” a few of “Absolutely Free” and a whole bunch of “We’re Only In It for the Money.”

Figuring this was the new album, I bought that one. Well, first of all you find the jacket is an excellent parody of “Sgt. Pepper’s.” I initially liked the album because they said “sh-t” on it. Then I found out what the words meant. I became a life-long Frank Zappa fan, collecting each new release until I just couldn’t keep up with his prodigious output. But now I own all the recordings he issued while alive (and a few posthumous ones as well). And I’ll be forever indebted to the man for giving me a profound understanding of life.

Pink Floyd, “Ummagumma” — I became a die-hard Pink Floyd fan after hearing this album. Although I don’t consider it one of my favorites today, it led me to years of enjoyable music. I’ll tell you what changed my life: Pink Floyd at Carnegie Hall May 1, 1972 on the “Meddle” tour. The lights went down as they launched into “A Saucerful of Secrets.” With the stage barely lit, Nick Mason set his mallets on fire as he drummed. Suddenly, he flung the burning mallets to the side and two huge urns burst into flame with plumes shooting into the air. I have no idea how they allowed that, but I guess you got away with stuff like that in the sixties. During the show they used their surround PA (system) to send birds flying overhead and spin the sound around the room. THAT was a truly awesome band in their heyday. Today my favorite Pink Floyd album is “Piper At the Gates of Dawn,” mostly because it belongs to that unique “Class of 1967” when so many landmark recordings were released.

The Rolling Stones, “Get Your Ya-Yas Out” – I feel I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention “The World’s Greatest Rock ‘n’ Roll Band” in this list. But which album? Since I saw one of the shows that was recorded for “Ya-Yas” and it was a significantly memorable event, I’ll go with that. I recently watched (the Stones’ concert film) “Gimme Shelter,” (which is) about that tour, and it does a good job of capturing the excitement of the band live. It’s pretty amazing they’re still at it with very few personnel changes — and those were largely by retirement or attrition. But they do put on a damn good show.

XTC, “English Settlement” — I discovered XTC through my younger brothers, coming to the party rather late. I think I got “Black Sea”first, then a single-LP version of “English Settlement” which was a radio promo. Both those XTC albums are great, but I have a special affinity for “English Settlement” and have completely converted my wife who is a former music educator. For a very long time she kept asking, “Why isn’t this band more popular?” Now we have all their releases, the Dukes of Stratosphear stuff, BBC recordings, even the “Beeswax” and Dub stuff. XTC always comes along for our road trips, and a month (usually a week) doesn’t go by without them blasting from the stereo.

Larry Brunson
El Cajon

‘A whole new smorgasbord of sound’

How cool it was to see your terrific piece on life-altering LPs. I agree that (including) just 10 albums is way too challenging, but you cleverly found a way to include a lot more in your article. I have many of the LPs on your list and, like you, have a colossal collection.

I was drawn to your list and the reasons for your inclusion of some of the artist’s lesser known efforts. I’ve found I had often done the same thing. (Regarding) the Wayne Shorter and Art Blakey jazz LPs that you listed that made an impact on your life, I once had to re-find that Shorter LP (“Native Dancer”) because I impetuously let go of it at one time, thinking it wasn’t that essential. It became one of my faves, too. but Wayne’s “Speak No Evil” did something more for me because of the interplay between him and (trumpeter) Freddie Hubbard.

As far as your early Blakey LP, (“Orgy in Rhythm, Volume 1”) I never acquired that one, only ecause I had well over 30 of his other albums. “Like Someone In Love” is my life-changer, because it was the first Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers’ LP that I ever bought. And that opened up for me a whole new smorgasbord of sound — and debt —for me from all the fusion jazz material in the 70’s that I had gleaned from my Joni Mitchell, Steely Dan, Santana, and The Crusaders LP’s. Which I just may go dig out and revisit today. Cheers!

Pete Spino
San Diego

‘Exactly where I first heard it’

I must be close to your age (I’m 66), so I assumed your list would have a large overlap with my list. Not so. The Beatles are the only common group on both our lists, yet “Revolver” was a little before I had any music change my life. Of course, we all have different life experiences and records that grab you (change you) at different times in life. I came to Stevie Ray Vaughn very late in the game, but it has been huge.

I’m looking at this project as you’ve asked for it. These are the Top 10 records that changed my life, not records that just made me like the group more than previously, or I thought were significant. When I think of records that changed my life, I think of records that I can remember exactly where I first heard it.

Santana, “Santana” — This is by far the number one record for change for me. I was lying in the back of a van fun of guys going mushroom hunting on an island in Washington state in the early 1970’s when “Evil Ways” came blasting over the speakers. I remember sitting right up and howling’ I needed to know who it was. It was a beautiful Santana lick and I still play the record, which I bought the next day, to this day.

Bob James, “One” — When a friend introduced me to smooth jazz at a CTI concert in the early 1970’s, it was love as first ‘sight’. Bob James would get a superstar group together and tour for the summer. Smooth jazz is still my main love in music. “One” was my first smooth jazz record, and his current group Foreplay’s latest record (“Silver”) is my current favorite. If I could have dinner with one musician of all time, it would be Bob James.

Miles Davis, “Kind of Blue” — Being a smooth jazz fan, I would try listening to the ‘real’ jazz radio station, but it was too much for me until I heard “Kind of Blue” about 10 years ago. Right away, I went and bought the record and it has been off to the races ever since. I have over 10 of Miles Davis’s records now — and too-many-to-count jazz records. “Kind of Blue” gets my vote for Best Album of All Time. Really changed my life.

Beatles, “Abbey Road” — This may be the record that I have played the most times in my life. I started playing it when I finally got my own first record player in high school, and I still listen to it regularly. It is not my vote for their best (“Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”) or most influential (“White Album”) album, but it was the one for me that got me to play the Beatles over and over and over.

Stevie Ray Vaughn, “Texas Flood” — You never know when a record is going to come along and change your life. My wife and I were riding in the car at night listening to the jazz station as they played a complete amazing album. We did not know who it was at the time, so we had to sit in the car in the garage listening until they said who it was. I had heard Stevie’s music many years before, but I was not ready at that time for that rocking blues. Now I listen when I need a lift, or I’m doing dishes, or working in the yard, or...

Led Zeppelin, “Led Zeppelin” — Like a lot of guys in the 1970’s, I had a thing for hard-rock as well as other styles, but no record had an impact close to what this record did to me. I remember waiting for each new Zeppelin album like it was the second coming of Christ. I was never disappointed, but none of them changed my life like the first album. I call it “getting back to basics” when I play this record on a Friday night at high volume. Rock on. My choice for best first album of all time.

The Allman Brothers Band, “Brothers and Sisters” — The only style of music I don’t like is country (past life?), and this Southern Rock style is as close as I can get. I was introduced to this album in college, and go through periods of time when only the Allman Brothers will get me through. This record led me to Marshall Tucker Band, Charlie Daniels, etc. Huge game-changer.

Dead Can Dance, “Into The Labyrinth” — Describing their type of music is tricky. It has been described as constructed soundscapes of mesmerizing grandeur and solemn beauty. Not sure if that helps. When we first found this, it opened up a whole new window to a very different type of music we had not been exposed to before. Makes me wonder what other styles I haven’t run into yet.

Blind Faith, “Blind Faith” — I had been exposed to, and loved, Eric Clapton via Cream, but it hadn’t really changed my life until I ran into Blind Faith. It just seems to be the best of the style and never seems to get old. I was just listening to a live concert of Cream from 1969 yesterday, so I guess it changed me for the better.

Bob Marley, “Lively Up Yourself” — A dive bar I hung around in the late ‘70’s would play Bob Marley during 25 cent beers night, so I eventually came to love Bob, and discovered another awesome style of music that still influences me today. Jamming.

Thanks for listening,

Ron Fitzgerald
Escondido

‘Yeah, Yeah, Yeah!’

For me, it would be, “Meet The Beatles.” Backing up a few weeks before its release, I first heard “I Want To Hold Your Hand,” and that changed my life! I never knew that music could move me so much! I was 13½, and after I’d only heard it twice, I rode my bike down to Uni-Mart and bought my first record ever, for 69 cents. The day that “Meet The Beatles.” was released, I did the Uni-Mart/Schwinn combo, again, and bought my first album ever, for $3.33. I played it umpteen-times-a-day, and became a totally different/for the better human being. A few weeks after that, they did their first U.S> TV show with Ed Sullivan, and it was on!

The next summer, I went to my first concert ever, which was The Beatles at Balboa Stadium, on Aug. 28, 1965. I had bought the most expensive ticket available, for $5.50, and it’s still The Greatest Night Of My Life! I was a Beatles fanatic from the beginning, and still am. Of course, that also got me fascinated with music, overall. In early 1964, I announced to my parents: “This is the greatest group ever!” They smiled, with Indulgence, knowing that my entire record collection consisted of one 45 and one LP. But, of course, I as right!

Now, if you had asked me, 56-plus years ago, if I could have imagined seeing Beatles t-shirts for sale, in a grocery store, in 2020 (which I did this very morning), I might have hesitated, before claiming: “Yeah, Yeah, Yeah!”

Craig Snapp
El Cajon