Introduction by Greg Wind:
It’s a pristine canvas for an artist or band to set new expectations for music. There are any number of reasons to follow the path of the easily-described or the ready-for-radio, and while many of the below became radio hits, how many of those making a first impression also took the opportunity to — you know — make an impression?
To be fair, many more than you might imagine. An early attempt to field nominations for the best “track one, album one” yielded more than 100 suggestions, and not a real stinker in the bunch.
And we were strict about our parameters. A minor indie release precluded the major label debut that changed music for a decade (bye, bye Eminem, NWA, Nirvana, et. al.). Anything from before 1967 was considered “pre-album era” and dismissed (sorry, Beatles, James Brown, and the Rolling Stones). Pre-release singles that were not the first track on the first album didn’t count, either (killing off several potential top picks). We even excluded (by rule or consensus) and solo or spin off group from an established act. Track one, album one.
You’d say we were unnecessarily strict — that is until you see the stunning list we were able to cull from the songs that met every criteria. The 21 tracks below represent the songs determined by your esteemed panel to be the most daring, most compelling, most authoritative, most indelible first impressions made in the album era. These are tracks that transcended genres and defined eras. Each served as a manifesto challenging the assumptions of the day as to what good music needed to sound like, and proved that the right combination of urgency, attitude and infectiousness could start a mini revolution.
And with that, here is the first part of “Album One, Track One: First Impressions.”
T-20. “Blind,” Korn, Korn
Gloomchen – The first I heard of “Blind” was watching the video on The Box. Who would have ever thought that this one song would have started a whole new trend in hard rock? I bought the album almost immediately and was absolutely breathtaken at what I had in my hands. The song starts out slow, but it’s that anticipation that makes the song hit as hard as it does. And damn, did it sound good cranking out of my rusted-to-death 1985 Chevy Cavalier. The rest of the album was spotty; it’s entirely possible that without that opener, the first Korn album might have just ended in a stack in the corner of my room to collect dust. Instead, I got a jolt better than coffee during my morning commute.
T-20. “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution,” Tracy Chapman, Tracy Chapman
Greg W. – The brief pre-Starbucks explosion of the 80’s coffee house scene led to a serious mass market infatuation with things like beat poetry, liberal ideas like Earth Day and folk music. Damned if this quietly challenging woman didn’t come along at precicely the right time. People, upon discovering that the singer of “Fast Car” was a young woman of color rather than an old white guy, became instantly and exponetially more interested. This first track from the debut album along with the single fused Tracy Chapman and that moment in America. She will never recover.
T-18. “Holidays In The Sun,” Sex Pistols, Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols
Eric S. – Outside of England (and thanks to the bans, this held true for a lot of people inside of England as well), the first anyone heard of the Sex Pistols was the sound of jackboots, followed by a single-chord riff from Steve Jones’ guitar that sounded a clarion call to the aware. The number of people who had heard of the Sex Pistols was far, far greater than the number who had heard their music, and what they’d heard about the band wasn’t good. This song reinforced a lot of that opinion. Something this in-your-face and blatantly political was out of place in the discofied, California-processed padded cell of 1977, so much so that the Pistols really were the threat the press claimed they were.
Without “Holidays In The Sun”, there’s no “Smells Like Teen Spirit”, grunge kiddies; both songs tackle similar themes of alienation of youth, but while Nirvana only wanted to be entertained, the Pistols didn’t even want that. They wanted to be numbed and desensitized rather than face the fact that their country didn’t want their own youth (remember, the Pistols were 19 and 20 at the time they recorded the song). It resonated with people all over the world, not just the target audience of punks in the big cities in England. It’s also Lydon’s greatest vocal performance (with the possible exceptions of “Public Image” and “Seattle”), and when he’s on, he’s ON. I’d follow him to the ends of the Earth and beyond when he vocalizes like this.
As final validation of its importance and greatness, I can mention this: it was this song, not Bowie’s “Heroes”, that was playing on a near-continuous loop in our barracks in Frankfurt on the night of November 9th, 1989. Now we definitely had a reason to be waiting at the Berlin Wall.
T-18. “We Die Young,” Alice in Chains, Facelift
Tom D – No demo, no rumbling … just an explosion out of Seattle — The grinding guitar riff, drop bass line and sudden drumming that gives way to Layne Staley’s eery growl before immediately launching into the first chorus. Could there have been any better way to intro the album, let alone intoduce the world to Alice in Chains? The band’s debut blew up after “Man in the Box,” but this was the song that started it all.
17. “Good Times Roll,” The Cars, The Cars
Greg W. – I’ll say it. The Cars were cool. When I was in 4th grade I had scrawled the bands name on the cover of my demin three ring binder and knew all the words to most of the songs on Shake It Up. I remember a sixth grade girl telling me everyone goes through a Cars phase. Well, mine hasn’t exactly ended. This song — with the pull between an ultra indifferent delivery and anti-rockstar lyrics on one side and a stinging guitar and full-on, full-throttle harmonies on the other — is a good defense for that nine-year-old and the nine-year-old in all of us. Just by existing, the Cars, formed from a defunct folk trio and a member of the Modern Lovers, defined ironic without having to lift a finger. On a side note, this is where Buddy Holly gets his indie cred, making Weezer possible.
16. “My Name is Jonas,” Weezer, Weezer (Blue Album)
Tom D – The perfect introduction to a band that was/is as hard to push into a genre as they come. The song is the perfect concoction of in-your-face hard-rocking juxtaposed against the melodic singing that Weezer is more famous for. Mix it all together with a hefty helping of pop and you have Weezer in a nutshell. The band never got as “heavy” as it did on this album again, but it was still a hell of a way to declare it had arrived.
15. “Runaway,” Bon Jovi, Bon Jovi
Tom D – Who would have thought those simple keyboard chords would give birth to one of the longest-lasting rock bands of the past 20 years? “Runaway” is the epitome of the song that started it all — a demo Jon did alone that got him radio time before a band was even in place, it became the song that would establish the band that shared his name as rock gods and still be a fan favorite over 22 years later.
Click here for part two of our “Album One, Track One: First Impressions” feature!
