Debut Little Earthquakes is chock-full of affecting songs covering a range of topics from parental grief to relationship problems and plenty in between. But it is the penultimate track that leaves the most sour taste in the mouth about humanity.

Performed a capella, the single relays in detail the night that a 21-year-old Amos was raped at knifepoint. With no music to distract, the words cut deeply. You don’t have to have been through similar to know just how devastating this song is, to get some understanding of Amos, and unfortunately so many other women, go through every day around the world.

It is raw, it is stark, and it is bleak. If, like other songs on this list, it was based on a story, it would still hit hard. But to know that Amos suffered this ordeal is nothing short of devastating.

Suicide | Frankie Teardrop

Nick Hornby labelled it a song to listen to only once. Tom Scharpling challenges radio show listeners to hear the song, dark, alone, and somewhere scary. King Of Gloom Lou Reed wishes he had written the song.

If that doesn’t sum up the bleak nature of Suicide’s best-known song, then perhaps nothing will. The penultimate track on the experimental duo’s eponymous debut is sparse, with the music consisting of a two-note keyboard riff and a claustrophobic drum machine pattern.

The story follows the titular poverty-stricken character as he shoots dead his wife, young child, and himself. The song finishes in Hell, but the listener is already there when listening to Alan Vega’s blood-curdling screams.

Sufjan Stevens | John Wayne Gacy, Jr.

Stevens’ excellent double album Illinois covers a wide range of topics, stories, and people from the Prairie State. As is often the case with Stevens, sad topics are hidden behind happy melodies.

But there is no mistaking the bleakness of this song, a biographical tale of notorious ‘Clown Killer’ Gacy, who sexually assaulted and killed at least 33 young men and boys between 1972 and 1978. That would be dark enough, but Stevens humanises the notorious murderer. Not to invoke sympathy, but to make the listener realise we never can truly be sure what intentions are on the inside of someone else.

Then it gets really bleak when Stevens compares himself to Gacy, “and in my best behaviour, I am really just like him.” The sigh that follows says everything, and so comes a bleak masterpiece to a fitting conclusion.

Depeche Mode | Blasphemous Rumours

Depeche Mode stood out from their synthpop contemporaries right from the start. So while New Life wasn’t anything extraordinary, See You hinted at the perverseness Dave Gahan & Co. could muster.

But as the band delved deeper into their discography, the darkness came to the fore. Some Great Reward ends on a bitter note. The song stems from the band’s distaste in forced and organised religion, telling the twisted story of a girl who fails to kill herself and as her life gets better, is involved in a fatal hit and run.

The repeated refrain of “I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumours, but I think that God has a sick sense of humour, and when I die, I expect to find him laughing” is nothing short of genius. Dark and bleak, yes. But genius all the same.

Joy Division | The Eternal

This is one of Robert Smith’s favourite songs of all time. Coming from a man who has made a living of singing about sadness and misery, that should be enough to cement its place.

Another penultimate track, the almost equally-dismal Decades has some light at the end of the tunnel, even in the escape of death, that evades The Eternal. Supposedly written about a neighbourhood child with special educational needs and whose life never moved beyond the garden and the park, this song explores the topic of an endless cycle of misery and torment, exacerbating the troubles Ian Curtis was going through when this album was made.

His own death by suicide before the album’s release put every song on Close through a new prism of darkness, and none more so than The Eternal.

Billie Holiday | Strange Fruit

So powerful was this song, that live performances used to have services stopped, encores scrapped, and all light switched off except for that on Holiday’s face. The titular term refers to the lynching of black people in America, which was at a peak in the southern states when the song was written in 1939.

Taken from a poem published a couple of years prior, the song is a no-holds-barred ode to black victims and part of the start of the Civil Rights Movement. While the song is just as important almost a century on, the bleakness is abound because of the bravery it took for Holiday to perform the song live time and again.

And nearly 100 years later, the song’s messages remains clear, even though the problems it attacks are still ongoing in one form or another far too often. As bleak as it is, Strange Fruit is undoubtedly one of the most important songs ever written and performed.

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Better known album: Back To Black (2006)

Just nineteen-years-old and with a lot of pressure on her name even before Frank’s release, Winehouse more than lived up to expectation with her debut record. In another world, this would have been the first of many.

Unlike the other artists here, Winehouse’s two album career was a result of her passing in 2011. In many ways, that made Back To Black even bigger than it already was. Winehouse got stronger production values and bigger hits with her sophomore effort, but Frank is true to her ideology and desire - frankly honest and inspired by, amongst others, Sinatra.

It is far from perfect. But for my money, it is just as good as Back To Black, if obviously less impressive on first listen. Comparisons aside, both records are great and it’s an incredible shame that such a talented woman was unable to add to them.

Bark Psychosis | Codename: Dustsucker (2004)

Better known album: Hex (1994)

Given that Graham Sutton was actively trying to break up the band during the recording of their debut album Hex, it’s no surprise that it looked for many years as if it would be the only ever full Bark Psychosis release.

A decade on, Codename: Dustsucker is arguably less a Bark Psychosis album than, say, Boymerang, which included both Sutton and Daniel Gish from the post-rock pioneers. This second record was recorded under the Bark Psychosis name, but was a solo Sutton effort, with the bandleader even taking on production duties. But it did greatly invoke the spirit of their genre-defining debut, while sounding altogether new.

Certainly not as influential than Hex, but no less otherwordly, and a fine successor to one of my favourite albums of all time.

Fugees | Blunted On Reality (1994)

Better known album: The Score (1996)

Blunted On Reality is an example of an album that makes more sense in the context of what came after. Initially a flop on release, its follow-up two years later showed a hip-hop trio with great ideas, but naivety on execution.

So when The Score would rightly become a seminal release, the trio had shown all the ingredients of soul, hip-hop, rap and protest music across a debut which had been tinkered with too much by those supposedly in the know. When it sold poorly, Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean and Pras Michel knew they knew better, and so it proved to be two years later.

Neutral Milk Hotel | On Avery Island (1996)

Better known album: In The Aeroplane Over The Sea (1998)

In The Aeroplane…’s reputation is on par with that of its creators: Neutral Milk Hotel, and chiefly Jeff Mangum. The two go hand-in-hand. Album and artist inseperable, just like Jeff Buckley’s Grace or The La’s eponymous album.

That is what happens when records become cult-like, a social media phenomenon whereby so many people have an opinion on music they’ve never really heard. But with NMH, unlike those other examples, there is another album in the band’s discography that only the real fans know. All the extreme ideas that would become the Anne Frank-centred In The Aeroplane… were first present here. No less madcap than its successor, and just as glorious and unique in lo-fi sound, On Avery Island benefits in many ways from not having a prior reputation distracting from the music.

Slint | Tweez (1989)

Better known album: Spiderland (1991)

Steve Albini produced Slint’s debut Tweez, which is nowhere near as seminal nor as fascinating as its successor. But it is almost as important, allowing the band to exorcise their rough edges before making a masterpiece. Albini’s only involvement with Spiderland was his glowing review for Melody Maker:

“In 10 years’ time, it will be a landmark and you’ll have to scramble to buy a copy then. Beat the rush. Ten fucking stars.”

You’d be hard pressed to find anyone who would attribute even half the praise to Tweez, but that doesn’t mean it’s without merit. It sounds like the same band, but not just a few years prior to Spiderland. There are rough moments (compliment) and rough moments (insult) abound here, but with change from half an hour, it’s a mostly electric listen which keeps you guessing throughout. On Carol, Charlotte, and Rhoda, you simultaneously get the best listens on the record and unsurprisingly, the ones that best foreshadow what was to come.

The Stone Roses | Second Coming (1994)

Better known album: The Stone Roses (1989)

vering music, I haven’t ruffled as many feathers as I did by first stating I don’t enjoy The Stone Roses’ debut all that much, and then further by pinning my colours to the mast of Second Coming as a slightly better record.

It took five years to get there, but I’m one of seemingly few who would argue it was worth the wait. The reputation of the ‘stellar’ debut weighed heavily, and this was a band bravely looking to make something different rather than resting on their laurels. It’s still far from perfect (it’s really not my type of music), but there are some brilliants songs to be had here, and it deserves far more than its reputation.

Like most of the best jazz leaders and players, saxophonist Sanders had a long, varied, and productive career. Dozens of recordings litter his discography, ranging in quality from good to great to Godlike.

Sanders saved one of the best for last, a collaboration with electronic artist Floating Points and the London Symphony Orchestra to make one nine-movement long symphony combining the tools of the three to monumental effect. A seven-note riff permeates throughout the album, while Sanders’ trademark tones provide the meat, with the Orchestra coming into their own two thirds of the way through.

One of the most famous and illustrated jazz saxophonists of all time collaborating with an artist half his age and a world-famous orchestra to make sounds this sweet is nothing short of miraculous. That he was the focal point of it all in his eighties and just 18 months short of passing away, is a miracle.

My recommendation: Movement 6 (but really the whole thing)

David Bowie | Blackstar (2016)

The obvious choice that, although not the initial inspiration behind this half dozen, is the absolute choice that couldn’t be left out.

You all know the story, and there’s a great blog on it here that goes into great detail and rightly waxes lyrical about Bowie’s final farewell.

My recommendation: I Can’t Give Everything Away

Johnny Cash | American IV: The Man Comes Around (2002)

Cash’s swansong is best known for his haunting cover of Nine Inch Nails’ Hurt, so good in fact that Trent Reznor graced Cash’s stripped back version the reputation of being the ultimate.

Everything about Cash’s Hurt is now iconic, music video included. But the whole album is, if not on equal footing, then very close. Having suffered from a fair few knockbacks in his career, it’s fitting that the man who came back to life with a live performance at Folsom Prison went out on such a high. The four American Recordings albums at the end of his career stand up as some of his best work.

It is easy to assume that albums made largely of covers is a cheap tactic, but that was not the case with Cash. Just as with Hurt, the country singer leaned into his brand of aged darkness to deliver every track in a new shade of light (or lack thereof).

Cash would die less than 12 months after the album’s release, succumbing to complications from Diabetes. His health problems permeated the recording of American IV, making its quality all the more remarkable.

My recommendation: Wichita Lineman

J Dilla | Donuts (2006)

At the other end of the spectrum, J Dilla died tragically young, and his final album was released, like Bowie’s Blackstar, just days before his death. Three days, to be exact. Donuts is an album whose context furthers the legend. But make no mistake, this record stands on its own two feet as a masterpiece in sampling and deeper meaning.

Diagnosed with TTP and Lupus in 2002, J Dilla continued to make music despite the terminal illness. After his mother moved to Los Angeles to help take care of him, the hip-hop artist and producer continued to make music. Donuts was his greatest work, the magnum opus of a great career set to be cut far too short.

The record is addictive, playing so it is as a loop that the listener can hear on repeat without ever realising the intro has bled into the opening outro. Donuts consists of 34 samples over 31 tracks, the majority of which don’t outlast a minute-and-a-half. It is a masterpiece, an influence on so many and yet never having come close to being replicated. J Dilla’s legacy burns brightly, two decades on from his death.

My recommendation: The whole thing

Curtis Mayfield | New World Order (1996)

Another artist who died too young, Mayfield died at the end of the 21st century having lived its final decade paralysed from the neck down. Mayfield released dozens of studio albums since his brilliant, eponymous debut in 1970, but his relevance was waning by the 1980s.

1990’s Take It To The Streets was a comeback to the quality of his heyday in the ‘70s, critically loved again after too many middling efforts. But then tragedy struck later in the year when Mayfield was crushed by stage lighting and paralysed from the neck down at an outdoor concert in Flatbush, New York.

Fast forward six years, and somehow Mayfield made another return, and the most triumphant one possible. Singing sometimes, one line at a time, Mayfield recorded his vocals for the album lying on his back and letting gravity pull down on his chest and lungs. Like all artists, Mayfield would hope that the songs alone are good enough to be remembered. And they are - this is a genuinely gorgeous album that stands with his very best. But the context behind it only adds to its greatness. A brave and triumphant record in the face of extreme adversity. Mayfield would die three years later owing to complications from Diabetes.

My recommendation: No One Knows About A Good Thing (You Don’t Have To Cry)

Leonard Cohen | You Want It Darker (2016)

Like so many of the best final albums, Cohen’s 14th and final one is so great because it perfectly encapsulates the singer songwriter’s entire discography up to and including that point.

A man so engrossed in misery and melancholy, best known for his oft-covered Hallelujah, perhaps unsurprisingly covers this album in love. This comes in the guise of his son Adam, and his religion, Judaism. Cohen’s death just 17 days after the album’s release repaints this as an album about those most important elements in his life.

When ex-girlfriend Marianne Ihlen died just over three months prior to Cohen, his message at her funeral was that he wasn’t far behind. He didn’t know that complications from leukaemia and a fall at home would be what did for him, but he certainly knew that death was calling. By the time the listener hears this album, it is clear that Cohen had made peace with a life well lived and a legacy worth more than in anyone’s wildest dreams. You Want It Darker is a statement and a final flourish to a career and life that deserved it.

My recommendation: If I Didn’t Have Your Love

What should I read next?

This is the album that was my true gateway to ambient music. Brian Eno (more on him later) was, I mistakenly thought, the only ambient artist I needed. His fame, his reputation, his ability to write pop songs and produce mega albums, it all led me to believe that the most famous ambient artist was also its best.

But then I listened to Hillage. And I was blown away. This isn’t taking anything away from Eno, because the music they make is so vastly different. But that’s the point - this was my ambient record that showed just how vast the ‘genre’ could be. For that reason alone, it makes for a brilliant ambient record.

Two long pieces, one on either side of wax as I listen to it, shift patiently with no drums and no beats, but plenty of heart. The final half of Four Ever Rainbow when the chord changes lead to rhythmic heaven are incredible. When it’s over, you’ll want to go right back to the start.

My recommendation: Four Ever Rainbow

Tangerine Dream | Rubycon (1975)

One of the most famous albums to emerge from the ambient hotbed that was mid-1970s Germany. The country that also provided the rule-breaking Krautrock movement gave such lasting moments of pleasure with bands like Tangerine Dream.

Predecessor Phaedra is also brilliant, but paved the way for the ultimate Tangerine Dream record. This sounds like that cover looks - mostly calm but the splash of liquid rippling to cause gorgeous disturbance is certain.

Like all other brilliant ambient albums, this feels like it’s from another world and has the ability to transport the listener there. Like Rainbow Dome Musick, it is two long pieces, one on either side of wax, and the pair of them make for perfect partners. But again, it is the second side that will have you flipping the record over again for another full listen.

My recommendation: Rubycon Part Two

Dream Dolphin | Atmospheric Healing (1996)

Time for a change of pace. This fits far less neatly into the traditional definition of ambient music, but that’s partly what makes it such a great gateway record. Just as Hillage moved me onto fellow traditional ambient music that wasn’t Eno, Dream Dolphin made me realise just how far the umbrella term can be stretched.

Let’s put it this way; the name of the album is about as apt as you’re ever going to get. Japanese musician Noriko was a recluse before a five month period for which productive doesn’t begin to cover it. Making a range of records from trip-hop to dub and techno and children’s soundtrack, the end point was this gorgeous collection of sonic textures.

Under this guise, Dream Dolphin still lets loose at times, but it’s when this album is at its most meditative that the listener realises they are in on something special. This is a great gateway to ambience for listeners who don’t want to go all in on lengthy soundscapes. Easier to digest, but no less sensational.

My recommendation: Stars

Hiroshi Yoshimura | Green (1986)

Sticking in Japan, but moving back to the 1980s, and a record from one of the finest ambient artists, who is a specialist in less is more. That makes it all the more frustrating the US release of Green features overdubbed nature noises which the music itself implies more than well enough.

Unlike even some of the all-time great albums from this era, this record doesn’t sound dated in the slightest. Not even every ambient masterpiece can lay claim to that. The natural themes here interplay wonderfully with Yoshimura’s expert use of space and silence.

This is music for a relaxing afternoon, to completely switch off from the technological world around us. If you can appreciate subtlety in music, then this is the album for you.

My recommendation: GREEN

Steve Roach | Structures From Silence (1984)

This is the space ambient album. If Yoshimura’s masterpiece brings to mind all that is beautiful about Planet Earth, then Roach’s takes us into the stars above and beyond.

At an hour long, it isn’t for the faint-hearted, but the three pieces here all come and go without really being in time. It does feel as though they are warping the energy around us, and that the time spent listening to these synthesisers is not the same as listening to any other type of music.

For ambient music to fall asleep to - and I mean that as a compliment - this is the one you need.

My recommendation: Structures From Silence

Brian Eno | Ambient 1: Music For Airports (1979)

In a blog like this, I couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room. It was my gateway to ambient music, and it is the best-known and most popular under the ambient genre, without doubt.

Seasoned listeners may roll their eyes, but their ears can’t lie. This is an incredible record, without which we wouldn’t have so many of the more advanced ambient albums that we are so lucky to have.

It isn’t my favourite by any stretch now, but that doesn’t take away how important it was to my journey, and it could be to anyone reading this too. There is so much fascinating reading to be done on this album and how Eno wanted it to be. Perhaps its reputation now precedes it, but that should not take away from a record that does everything it intends to, and then some.

My recommendation: 2/1

What should I read next?

A cult classic, a gem from the neon-soaked streets of Glasgow that is all about what makes the world go round. Heartbreak, regrets, and love are told across seven stellar songs.

The follow-up to critically acclaimed debut A Walk Across The Rooftops, Hats is the sort of album that, once it finds you, it takes on a special meaning. It is so much more than just music. This is a world that feels oh so real. There is no escaping it, because we have all felt like Paul Buchanan does here - “working night and day”, staring at your reflection from the window of a late night train, and ultimately looking for “an ordinary girl who will make the world alright”.

It’s sophisticated in the sense that the Scottish trio sound generations older than they actually are. The slightly naïve bittersweetness of their debut five years previously, has been eroded into melancholy at best. Real events - failed relationships, divorced parents, and the struggles to record a follow-up all add up to make this one of the most relatable albums you will surely ever hear.

And if that’s not enough, I’ve got a lot more words on one of the most important records in my life here.

My recommendation: Let’s Go Out Tonight

Sade | Diamond Life (1984)

From the opening saxophone riff of the first track on their debut album, it was clear that Sade were something special. This is music for late night whisky bars, where titular Smooth Operators work their seedy ways through the down-on-their-luck souls.

Sade Adu is the face and name of the band, her vocals calling you to heaven such is their silky glow. Stuart Matthewman is the man behind classic sax line after classic sax line. As a budding and eager, albeit limited, alto sax player, I can attest that Matthewman’s quality and talent knows no bounds.

And while this is known for the big hits, there isn’t a single second, note, or song wasted here. From Cherry Pie to Sally, this is one of the all-time great 80s records, and proof enough alone that sophistipop is no laughing matter.

My recommendation: Cherry Pie

Roxy Music | Avalon (1982)

In a decade, Roxy Music had traversed galaxies to get from Virginia Plain to essentially kicking off the sophistipop movement. Bryan Ferry would take up permanent residency in the genre with his solo material, but it all comes together perfectly on Avalon.

Yes, it’s not got the glam power of their fantastic debut, nor the brooding majesty of For Your Pleasure. But a band that was already older than the majority of their contemporaries on breakthrough show their age with glee, making music for ballrooms. The hit singles More Than This and Avalon are both astounding. The latter especially, as it’s one of my favourite music videos of all time too.

This was a band that broke the mould in seemingly arriving from another planet, then refined their palette, took a break, came back smoother, and perfected that look and sound too. There aren’t many bands who can lay claim to being as influential in one style of music as Roxy Music can in two.

My recommendation: Take A Chance With Me

Danny Wilson | Meet Danny Wilson (1987)

You all know Mary’s Prayer. And if you like that smash hit, then the rest of Danny Wilson’s debut should do for you too. Especially the first side, which is loaded with cracker after cracker.

The misleadingly named trio sound much happier than the other examples in this list, but there’s still a very real and mature grit to these songs. This is an album teeming with irresistible hooks and inventive melodies that will have you singing along at the drop of a hat (or two, judging by the cover).

There’s no surprise that Mary’s Prayer was the hit. It is the catchiest song by some distance on first listen. But on repeated plays, songs like Broken China and Aberdeen will be in your head just as much.

My recommendation: Broken China

Simply Red | Picture Book (1985)

Much derided though they became, there is no doubt that Simply Red’s Picture Book is a mighty fine debut. Despite liking each of their first five albums to some degree, this is by far and away my favourite.

Jericho and the closing title track are sensational; nuggets of drama centred around great instrumentation and aided by Mick Hucknall’s sensational vocals. There’s also a decent cover version of Talking Heads’ Heaven, and of course Holding Back The Years.

This is a record that is overshadowed by their later work, for good and bad reasons. But before they became the Hucknall show and this was a proper band, they were making proper music. And it is glorious.

My recommendation: Picture Book

Prefab Sprout | Steve McQueen (1985)

Or Two Wheels Good for our friends Stateside. Quite simply one of the most impressive side ones ever committed to 12 inches of wax. And side two ain’t bad either.

This is sophistipop on another level. Paddy McAloon is one of the all-time great songwriters. Brother and bassist Martin McAloon was right when he said at a live show in 2025 that he never had to play on a bad song. Here, he didn’t have to play on anything less than 11 sensations.

When Love Breaks Down is the one most of you know, but Faron Young, Appetite, Bonny, Goodbye Lucille #1 (later repurposed as Johnny Johnny on single release) are all heavenly. Rooted in juvenile heartache, the characters may not be ones we all relate too, but the feelings certainly are.

My recommendation: Bonny

What’s your favourite sohistipop record? Any I’ve missed that should have made the cut? Let me know in the comments. And if you enjoyed this and want more directly to your inbox for free, drop me a subscription. Cheers.

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One of the first batch of books in the series, and the earliest in the collection that I own, this book was vital in taking me from enjoying Forever Changes to realising just what an incredible record Love made.

Assessing the band’s aversion to counterculture and Arthur Lee’s personal turmoil amidst the backdrop of late 60s Los Angeles, Hultkrans never gets lost in detail, but instead uses it to illustrate a fascinating backdrop to one of the greatest albums of the 60s.

Spiderland by Scott Tennent

Part of the lore around Slint is in their mystery - a hazy, chaotic debut followed by a seminal record ahead of its time and the genre it would end up playing a huge part in making.

Tennent brilliantly fills in the gap on the mystique leading up to Spiderland and beyond. With so little actual detail on record elsewhere, Tennent doesn’t fall into the trap of a biographical bore to fill out space and word counts. Instead, he delves into the most glorious depths of all six songs on the album and the impact each had on the members that made them, and of course on the listeners too. This one also benefits from interviews with the people who were there, something not all 33 1/3 books can boast.

Kid A by Marvin Lin

Radiohead are one of very few artists to have two albums covered in the series. And while the OK Computer edition is good, I’m a sucker for a writer who can explore a wider theme through the lens of a single record. Lin does that brilliantly here, exploring multiple facets of time, some more directly related to the album than others.

This could have suffered from an opposite pitfall to that of the Slint book - with so much detail out there on Radiohead and Kid A in particular, it would be easy to tread over old ground here. But Lin never does - this feels like a genuinely fresh and entertaining read on one of the most enthralling left turns in music history.

Tago Mago by Alan Warner

Warner is an especially talented writer; his debut novel Morvern Caller was one of my favourite fiction reads from last year. It is a book about as unique as the Krautrock masterpiece that Warner covers in some great depth here.

This is one of the best examples of a the series being an excuse for authors to wax lyrical as fans as well as assessors. Warner writes with such passion that even if you weren’t a fan of the album, you’d want to become one as a result of reading this.

BBC Radiophonic Workshop by William L. Weir

One of the more unique entries in the series, this is one of the least-focussed-on-the-album you’ll read from 33 1/3. That makes it no less interesting, as the Retrospective record is explored through the history of the Workshop, including the pioneering women who made it possible.

Weir goes into great historical detail without ever getting too black-and-white. By the end of it, the reader has learned so much about the history and evolution of historical music. Finally giving credence to a movement that was largely ignored in their heyday, Weir’s book goes some way to redressing the balance correctly.

Paris 1919 by Mark Doyle

Another 33 1/3 which delves deeply into the man that made it. John Cale is one of the most fascinating figures in contemporary music. Doyle does the great man justice and then some, looking at the person behind the art and posing such great questions as: Is Paris 1919 a Christmas album? Spoiler alert - I’m on board.

Largely though, this is a fascinating look at the ghosts that haunted, inspired, and made Cale make one of the finest baroque albums of all time. Like the record it covers, it is more than worth your time, with haunted bells on.

Are you a fan of 33 1/3 books? What’s your favourite in the series? Let me know below…

The Dolphin Brothers | Catch The Fall (1987)

In the five years since Tin Drum, Japan drummer Steve Jansen and keyboardist Richard Barbieri had been collaborating on a fair few projects, and sought enough support to create one song-based album.

Catch The Fall sold poorly and The Dolphin Brothers disbanded as a result. But that is no signifier of the quality on show. This is a sophisticated album that blends a Sylvian-esque vocal style with Colour Of Spring-like textures to create an engaging and charming listen.

If you didn’t know better, you could easily mistake Jansen’s smooth vocals for those of his brother, while Barbieri’s golden synth work comes as a surprise to absolutely nobody.

My recommendation: Host To The Holy

David Sylvian & Robert Fripp | The First Day (1993)

After briefly reforming Japan as Rain Tree Crow at the start of the decade, Sylvian was the quietest he’d been in his professional career. Having collaborated towards the end of the 80s, Robert Fripp tried convincing Sylvian to join King Crimson, to no avail.

But there was a compromise; Sylvian would work on a new album with Fripp. The resulting effort is one of the more unique entries in Sylvian’s stellar and varied artistic career.

With seven tracks covering an hour and then some, it’s easy for first time listeners to assume this is another entry in Sylvian’s difficult but rewarding genre. But fear not, The First Day is about as funky as Sylvian ever got, thanks to a combination of stellar studio musicians and a mixture of writing there and on the road. It’s still unmistakably Sylvian, but a good change from the more obviously introspective nature of his solo records.

My pick: Bringing Down The Light

Mick Karn | Dreams Of Reason Produce Monsters (1987)

Japan bassist Karn suffered more from the band’s breakup than the other three members, going on to achieve far less solo success post-1982, and unfortunately passing away in 2011 having struggled financially for years.

It’s a far cry from the end such a talented and wonderful artist deserved to go. His solo work didn’t sell, but just like with The Dolphin Brothers, that is no reflection of the quality.

Debut Titles is a very 80s, fretless bass-led album split into an instrumental first half and a more standard flip side, and is more than worth your time. But Karn dared to dream bigger than his distinctive bass playing, and put his money where his mouth was on Dreams Of Reason…

A much more varied album, Karn went down the neo-classical and gothic route, collaborating with Sylvian on Buoy and When Love Walks In, and Jansen on Land. It sold poorly and contemporary reviews were less than glowing. For me, that’s absolute pish.

My pick: Answer

Porcupine Tree | Stupid Dream (1999)

How do you narrow down Porcupine Tree’s extensive discography to just one album? Richard Barbieri first worked with Steven Wilson in his previous band No-Man, before becoming an early collaborator and live musician in Porcupine Tree before joining the band completely.

Having started as a pisstake, Wilson soon realised there was a market for his new band, who went from psychedelic to progressive metal over the course of their career.

For me, the middle ground is the best. The progressive rock of Stupid Dream is fully realised, but every song comes with a great hook or melody. Barbieri’s key and synth work is perhaps at its most engaging here too. Awash with great songs, Stupid Dream is just one of many epic releases from the band. Considering their extensive range, I’m certain there’s at least one Porcupine Tree album for everyone.

My pick: Don’t Hate Me

Dalis Car | The Waking Hour (1984)

As well as his solo endeavours, Karn briefly joined a band. Linking up with former Bauhaus singer Peter Murphy as a vehicle for a record deal, Dalis Car released just one, critically panned album.

Both Karn and Murphy struggled to work with one another, and the latter left the band before The Waking Hour’s duties were complete, such was his dissatisfaction with the project.

But again, the lack of sales and poor reviews were not a surefire marker of just how much this album had to offer. Karn’s bass is highly present, and the record itself a heady mix of post-punk and the gothic rock Karn would explore further on Dreams Of Reason…

It’s far from perfect, but it’s a hidden gem of a record which barely charted on release.

My pick: Cornwall Stone

Exit North | Book Of Romance and Dust (2018)

Every other album here was released in the 20th century, but there are still exciting projects continuing to this day involving the members of Japan.

Exit North consists of Steve Jansen, alongside three Swedish musicians (Thomas Feinier, Ulf Jansson, Charlie Storm), and they have produced two sublime albums together.

The first of them, Book Of Romance and Dust, is not an easy listen. Much like Sylvian’s 21st century solo work, brother Jansen’s latest project requires patience and understanding from the listener. Exit North are one of those bands that offer little if looking for a quick fix, but oh so much on repeated and deeper listening.

My pick: Spider

What are your favourite post-Japan albums? And can you think of any other bands whose members have gone on to have greater success? Let me know in the comments below.

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So while you might think jazz isn’t up your alley, I’m here to convince you to give it another chance. And if you do love a bit of sax and bass, then hopefully there will still be something new for you to discover here.

Alice Coltrane | Journey In Satchidinanda (1971)

Spiritual Jazz, Modal Jazz, Avant-garde Jazz
37:43

This was my gateway into the jazz world. Yes, of course I’d listened to and enjoyed In A Silent Way, A Love Supreme, and Mingus Ah Um. But it was Journey… that made me really sit up and take notice. Before this, I’d listened to the most famous jazz records to try and make something click. With this, no effort was required on my part.

It’s a great gateway record as five tracks take place in less than 40 minutes, meaning no extra-long attention span is required. You also know exactly what you’re in for after mere seconds - looping textures and rhythms to take the listener on, well, a journey.

Journey… also allowed me to follow a great tip given by jazz enthusiasts - pick out the instruments you enjoy and listen to those musicians as bandleaders or as part of other projects. Many of you will know how much I adore Pharoah Sanders, who produces what can only be described as magical moments throughout this record.

An Indian vibe permeates from start to finish, with instruments such as the oud and tanpura providing droning lines high in the mix, and tonal chords the preference over standard progressions. It all makes for a mesmerising listen that will make you wish this particular journey would never end.

My pick: Shiva-Loka

Mahavishnu Orchestra | The Inner Mounting Flame (1971)

Jazz Fusion, Progressive Rock
46:15

Diehards might disagree, but jazz fusion is an important subgenre of jazz. Naturally, it’s a superb entryway into the full-on jazz world, given this still operates much more like more standard rock records of the late 60s and early 70s.

Eight tracks over three quarters of an hour make for an average LP length of the time, but there is nothing so-so about The Inner Mounting Flame, which has an intensity similar to that of King Crimson’s Red. But the ringleader being John McLaughlin is key here.

His powerful playing was an important part of Miles Davis’ classic records In A Silent Way and Bitches Brew. If you’ve enjoyed either of those behemoths, then this album is more than worth your time. It’s not an easy listen, and it can blast your eardrums at times, but the pay-offs are grand.

My pick: You Know You Know

Saltash Bells | John Surman (2012)

Ambient Jazz, Electric Jazz
59:13

One from the 21st century now. And if you’re a fan of post-rock, then this entirely solo effort from Surman is sure to be up your street. It is quite ridiculous that this is a one-man effort, such is the sheer enormity of cinematic scope on offer.

I desperately wish I had come across this more than a week ago, because I’m already hooked. Combining the atmospheric darkness of Mogwai with the electronic twinkles of Boards Of Canada and Morphine’s sultry sax lines, this is an hour of your life that you will wish to experience for the first time over and over again.

With 10 tracks at just over 59 minutes, it can be a daunting prospect, but there’s hardly a second wasted here. Contemplative beauty abound from start to finish, and Surman will be someone I’m listening to an awful lot this year.

My Pick: On Staddon Heights

Izipho Zam (My Gifts) | Pharoah Sanders (1973)

Spiritual Jazz
50:23

Much as I’m tempted to stick Karma in here, I’m aware how fortunate I am that The Creator Has A Master Plan is far from ideal for beginners. It’s over a side of LP in length (and still far too short for my liking).

Recorded just a month before Karma, Izipho Zam suffered from being distributed on a different label, ensuring its impact was nowhere near as strong as its similar-sounding counterpart.

But therein lies the beauty; opener Prince Of Peace is of similar build and performance to Creator, but at a third of the runtime. Leon Thomas’ yodelling vocal above an ensemble band including alto sax, tuba, piano, guitar, and two bass, is nothing short of dreamcatcher goodness.

And if you’re taken with that opening track, then Karma is just waiting to welcome you with open arms.

My pick: Prince Of Peace

Al-Jadida | Rabih Abou-Khalil (1991)

Arabic Jazz Fusion
58:44

If Arabic music is your bag, then this is a great place to start your jazz journey. Rabih Abou-Khalil is a Lebanese oud player and composer, who is adept at combining jazz with traditional Arabic music.

The results are stunning. This is a powerful record, which starts with a blast and never really lets up over the course of an hour. The interplay between those traditional sounds and Sonny Fortune on the alto sax are the key component here for something that sounds altogether out-of-this-world, while meshing the music of two distinct types.

For me, I came to wanting to listen to Middle Eastern music from before I was a teenager when I was especially taken with maNga’s Bir Kadın Çizeceksin from the FIFA 06 soundtrack. More recently, The Dandy Warhols and Mick Karn have tantalised me further, but listening to authentic musicians from that area of the world is unbeatable.

My pick: An Evening With Jerry

Total Blue | Total Blue (2024)

Ambient Jazz
49.12

Now if none of the previous five albums have jumped out as something you want to listen to, then I might just have the wildcard for you.

Given I’m getting so much more into both jazz and ambient music right now, this is the perfect record for both. Ambient jazz is a game-changer for those who when they hear the word ‘jazz’, think of bebop.

Laidback synths, smooth soundscapes and the dulcet vibes of a neon-soaked city underwater, Total Blue’s eponymous debut is nothing short of sumptuous perfection. This is as far away from the mainstream perception of jazz as it is possible to get, for me.

And if you don’t believe me, then take a risk on just six minutes of your time with the ethereal beauty below:

My pick: Chaparral