The Ten Albums That Made Me
- McKenna Ryan
- Jun 14, 2022
- 11 min read
Updated: Jun 16, 2022
"My life belongs to me, my love belongs to who can see it"
George Harrison in the studio | image: source
There are certain pieces of music that, once you’ve heard them, you can’t fathom how you’ve lived an entire life without them. It’s like finding a key to a locked door, turning the knob, and stepping out into the sunshine. If you’re anything like me, music that speaks to you lingers. The feeling, the message, they don’t end when those final chords fade out - they become a part of who you are.
I’ve been writing on this blog for nine months now and I’ve realized I’ve shared plenty about the lives of my favorite musicians, but remarkably little about my own. So, to make up for that, here are ten albums that have become an integral part of me - in a loosely particular order.
10. Blue - Joni Mitchell (1971)
When I first listened to Blue, it didn’t strike a chord with me. I couldn’t understand why it was so revered and why Greta Van Fleet’s Sam Kiszka had referred to it as “the greatest album of all time.” Now, I fully understand.
Blue is a melancholy masterpiece, a deeply intimate glimpse into Joni Mitchell herself. Joni’s voice has always reminded me of the Aurora Borealis - unmitigated natural beauty, dancing elegantly in the air. Blue was one of those albums I had to listen to again and again to finally understand it. With every listen, the album got better and better until it eventually worked its way into the list of my all-time favorite albums.
The most perfect track on this album is inargaubly “Little Green.” One of my favorite songs ever, “Little Green” is the perfect example of the intensely intimate view of her life that Joni grants the listener. She draws back the curtain and exposes her anguish, her delight, her losses, and her triumphs. In this instance, she’s singing about her one and only child. In 1965, Joni had given birth to a baby girl. At this time in her life, Joni was twenty-one, completely alone, penniless, and living in an attic apartment with no heat during the dead of winter. "Child with a child pretending." Although it broke her heart, Joni felt she had no choice but to give her daughter up and allow her to be adopted by a family who could grant her a much better life.
The story is all right there in the song, but no one recognized the truth in it until 1993, over two decades after its release. It takes less than a minute for this song to reduce me to a puddle of tears, and that is the mark of a truly brilliant songwriter. Blue is to songwriters as the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel is to painters. It’s a legitimately remarkable masterpiece, but above all, it makes you feel. Joni reminds the listener that it's okay to feel, that it's okay to submerge yourself in the emotions we are so often told to push down. You cannot listen to Blue and remain unchanged.
9. Déjà Vu - Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young (1970)
Unlike Blue, Déjà Vu was an immediate favorite for me. From the very first chord of the opening track, “Carry On,” I was immediately enchanted. This album sparks some strangely wonderful feeling deep within me. It gives me butterflies from my head to my toes. I don’t know if it’s the harmonies, the lyrics, or the album cover on which each member of the band appears as if they’ve been sent back in time. It’s folky, it’s rocky, it’s political, it’s heartwarming, it’s all I could ever wish for in an album and I hold it so close to my heart.
Ironically, the album is also covered in Joni Mitchell’s fingerprints. Not only did she date both the C and the N out of CSNY, but she also wrote the track “Woodstock” and provided the house detailed in “Our House.” CSNY is one of my favorite bands ever - the way their voices blend is like sheer magic. If people carried records like children carry their favorite stuffed animal, this one would never leave my hands.
Not only is it gorgeous musically, but it’s also eye-opening lyrically. Numerous lines resonated so intensely with me, from “And so become yourself / Because the past is just a goodbye,” to “Do you know? Don’t you wonder? / What’s going on down under you? / We have all been here before, we have all been here before” (very George Harrison-esque) to “But I’m not giving in an inch to fear.” As someone who loves language, words can be especially impactful and fascinating to me - these lines are just a few instances in which that proves to be true.
8. Ram - Paul and Linda McCartney (1971)
With Ram, I can’t identify if it’s the album itself or the sentimentality it brings that makes it so significant to me, but regardless, it’s an album I cherish. While my favorite Beatle has always been George, Paul runs a close second. George is who I want to be, but Paul is much closer to who I am. Maybe that's because we share the same life path number (22!).
I can’t put my finger on why Ram is so meaningful to me. Paul is an extraordinary songwriter, but this album doesn’t have many philosophical or inpsiring lines - “Man, I can smell your feet a mile away” doesn’t quite strike a chord.
Ram is a concoction of romantic honeymooner love songs and unbridled silliness. I think that’s why I love it, it has an air of childlike innocence, and it grants us a glimpse of a time when all the world was love and laughter.
7. The Wall - Pink Floyd (1979)
I have a particular appreciation for music with messages that go against the grain. I love it when an artist can confront the maddeningly ridiculous way the world is run, and this is something no one does more effectively than Pink Floyd. It’s difficult to pick a favorite Pink Floyd album, but in my eyes The Wall holds slightly more power than the rest of their discography. Any album that can mention the atrocities of war, the pitfalls of the education system, the struggles of mental health/addiction, the horrors of bigotry, and the flaws inherent in many systems of government is all right in my book. The Wall touches on all of that, and it’s sung in the sultry voice of David Gilmour (barring the intermittent Roger Waters lead vocal) - what more could you ask for?
The whole ideology of ‘the wall’ has stuck with me. It reminds me an awful lot of Huxley’s “The Doors of Perception” and this idea that on the other side of the wall constructed by school, societal expectation, religion, government, etc., is enlightenment. It’s an outlook I wholeheartedly believe in - I will do everything in my power to refrain from becoming just another brick in the wall.
6. Hounds of Love - Kate Bush (1985)
If I haven’t already made it clear, I love Kate Bush. Her discography is saturated with exquisite songs. I remain steadfast in my opinion, however, that Hounds of Love is her magnum opus - although, I don’t think I’d have to argue that, considering its continual spot on practically every “Greatest Albums of All-Time” list. I could go on about this album for ages. It possesses all the outlandishness of Ram, the rock-opera-ness of The Wall (which makes sense considering her close connection to David Gilmour), and the profundity of Blue or Déjà Vu.
The first side of the record is predominantly about love - familial love, romantic love, etc., and I cherish every moment of it. From “Running Up That Hill” to “The Big Sky” to “Cloudbusting,” I can’t get enough. My favorite quote from Side A comes from “The Big Sky,” “You never understood me / You never really tried.” I’ll admit, reading it without hearing the music makes it look like superfluous teen angst. It’s not just the lyrics, though, it’s the way she says them. It’s the honest, guttural hurt behind those words that fills me with butterflies.
The second side of the record comes somewhat out of left field - and is very Pink Floydian. It’s a concept side about a lone woman lost at sea at night, and it’s mind-blowing. When I first heard it, it was one of those moments where I had to stop and just listen. “Under Ice” and “Waking the Witch” are inarguably my favorite parts of Side B of the album - and you have to listen to them together. Think of them as one song.
This second side, dubbed The Ninth Wave, doesn’t necessarily have a profound, soul-striking meaning - but one thing I’ve learned is that art doesn’t have to be making complex commentary to be moving. Sometimes the sheer brilliance of the artist is enough to make you see the world in a new light, and that’s exactly what Kate did for me.
5. Pet Sounds - The Beach Boys (1966)
When it was released in 1966, Pet Sounds was a far, far cry from what was expected of The Beach Boys. Until then, they’d been singing largely about summer, surfing, and sunny Southern California. So when Brian Wilson unleashed the beast that is Pet Sounds, it was profound. It’s still profound. It’s like The Beach Boys’ carefully manufactured image had collapsed (or was perhaps torn down), leaving them completely vulnerable - precisely what makes for a fantastic album.
“Hang On To Your Ego” is one track that sticks out to me. “I know so many people who think they can do it alone / They isolate their heads and stay in their safety zones.” Or there’s “You Still Believe In Me,” with its line that feels like a punch to the gut: “I try hard to be strong / But sometimes I fail myself.” Ouch. Or one of the few songs that genuinely felt like it was written just for me, “I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times.” Sometimes being a young fan of music from the past can be a bummer, for lack of a better word. I’ll never get the chance to see most of my favorite bands live, and I’ll forever be filled with nostalgia for an era I was never alive to experience. This song embodies that feeling, as well as my personal feelings of inadequacy. I graduated high school as Valedictorian - less than a year later, I’m no longer in any sort of school, working a miserable job at bookstore, unsure of my place in the world and often feeling very lonely. So when I heard Brian Wilson sing “I keep looking for a place to fit in / Where I can speak my mind / And I’ve been trying hard to find the people / That I won’t leave behind / They say I got brains but they ain’t doing me no good / I wish they could,” it felt like looking in a mirror. When I first heard this album, it felt like a slice of it snapped off and fused itself into my soul - I will always carry it with me.
4. Rumours - Fleetwood Mac (1977)
Rumours is slightly less philosophical and predominantly just great music. Its moments of profundity, however, are like sparkling diamonds in a sea of coal. They’re truly beautiful gems. I can take pride in saying that this is the only album on this list that I first heard in the way it was intended to be heard - on a record player. It was so much more of an experience than simply streaming it on Spotify, and it’s another thing altogether to own a physical copy of your favorite music. Although, the worst part about the Rumours vinyl is that it doesn’t include “Silver Springs.” I’ve already spoken about “Silver Springs” enough for a lifetime, but that song is truly imbued with magic (but I stand with Stevie when she says she’s not a real witch!). You can read more about it here!
I love every single track on this album, but some of my favorites are “Oh Daddy,” “Songbird,” “Don’t Stop,” and “Gold Dust Woman.” Forever and always will I be a devout Stevie Nicks fan, but I think Christine McVie’s superb vocal and songwriting abilities can often be overshadowed by the white witch. I think my favorite Christine McVie line comes from “Songbird”: “And I wish you all the love in the world / But most of all, I wish it from myself.” Stevie is magical while Christine is a bit more grounded, the yin to Stevie’s yang.
The magic of Rumours and the groundedness of Christine is something I carry with me every day.
3. Magical Mystery Tour - The Beatles (1967)
I’m certain most people would go with The White Album, Sgt. Pepper, or Abbey Road, but for me, Magical Mystery Tour is where it’s at. It’s got that childlike whimsy and air of enchantment, but it also has some of my favorite Beatles songs ever. I think I directly oppose many people when I say I love both “Flying” and “Blue Jay Way.” The real gem on MMT, however, is “The Fool On The Hill.”
This album, its sleeve graced by four Beatles in animal suits and its inside marked with silly tracks like “I Am The Walrus,” is the last place you’d expect “The Fool On The Hill” to reside. Who could predict Paul McCartney singing “And nobody seems to like him / They can tell what he wants to do / And he never shows his feelings” mere moments after he playfully sounds the alarm for the fantabulous Magical Mystery Tour. I think this album is exemplary of who The Beatles were - silly, serious, magical, grounded, and, above all, exceptionally talented musicians and songwriters. That’s why I love this album so much - it’s all four of The Beatles pressed into one record. My love for The Beatles is so immense and complex that it wraps right back around to being simple - the answer is right there, within these eleven tracks.
2. Living In The Material World - George Harrison (1973)
Living In The Material World is the only album that comes remotely close to my affinity for the album at number one. If I could get an album tattooed across my forehead, it would be this one. I cherish it so much that I can’t listen to it casually. I have to dedicate my full attention to absorbing every note. “Be Here Now” is the ultimate grounding experience to bring you back down to earth, it’s almost a lullaby. “Who Can See It” is another one of my favorite songs ever. The first time I heard it, the lines “My life belongs to me / My love belongs to who can see it” were instantly ingrained into my brain. I think Rolling Stone said it best when they described Living In The Material World as “miraculous in its radiance.”
1. All Things Must Pass - George Harrison (1970)
All Things Must Pass is my first love. It was the first truly remarkable album I’d ever heard, the first one that filled me with so much feeling that I felt I could burst. From the perfection of the cover to the utter masterpieces residing inside, All Things Must Pass holds so much meaning to me. If I could only listen to one album for the rest of my life, it would be All Things Must Pass.
I can’t dissect every track and pick what I learned from each of them or what I love about each of them because this already lengthy post would go on for another mile. No one on earth speaks to my soul the way George Harrison does. That I will never be able to meet him shatters my heart, but listening to this album gets me close enough. “My Sweet Lord” will forever and always be my utmost favorite song. There are certain cases in which words do not sufficiently express feelings, so you’ll just have to trust me when I say that this album is vital to who I am as a person.
Every one of these albums has become part of me, a puzzle piece that clicked into place and made me feel more whole. They truly mean the world to me.
A Live Rendition of "Little Green" - 4 Years Before The Release of Blue
Hopefully the gritty audio will spare you the full destrcutive feeling of this song
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