Holy shit. Some major under-appreciation happening here. Do yourself a favor and take your dog (or pig) for a walk through the park with this on start to finish. And the do your friends a favor and bring them to Florry's next show. (Yes, they're even better live.)

Al Green made this album and could never make secular music ever again. You can hear why. Somehow the coke, violence, political turmoil, and chaos of the early 70s all come together and refract into melodies worthy of the angels. Anyone who doesn't have this stuck in the CD player in their car merits heavy suspicion.

Was a hold out. But alas, it's true. It's true what they say.

sweet and warm. Put this on on a rainy morning or while cooking breakfast for the girl you've just realized you've fallen in love with.

what it sounds like to be stumbling toward oblivion—but suddenly their sick bass riff comes along and turns it into dancing.

An absolute masterclass of every shade of blues rock out there—including the ones that hadn't been invented yet. This farmer turned chicken-shack rocker is a hero to anyone who knows what's what in the world of rock history. And my God, the texture of that piano!

Behold: Beggar's Banquet marks the moment the greatest band of all time found its sound. While they wouldn't go on to truly master it until Let It Bleed, Sticky Fingers, Exile on Main...all the pieces are there. No more Beatles pop, no more forays into psychedelica. In Beggar's Banquet, the Stones stuck with what they do best: damn good blues—and changed it forever.

Dance as Rome burns kinda shit. Some killer hooks, some clunky lyrics. Cool to feel it trying to keep the sounds of Seventeen Seconds and Unknown Pleasures going. But what does it mean that even our apocalyptic angst is retro? Mark Fisher is rolling over in his grave.