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If we think about the history of music, the only good stuff that has truly proven to withstand the test of time is the good stuff that knows how to coexist with the vacuum. I'm referring to the only albums that can objectively be called immortal, the kind that if you play them in one of those chic Milanese squats, no one will shout in your face that you're old and the new Charli XCX is an incredible hit. For once, everyone is quiet. I'm obviously talking about albums like Bob Dylan's second or Neil Young's with the yellow cover, records where half of the songs are of a dazzling and unsurpassable beauty while the other half makes seagulls throw up. These are albums that, for better or worse, will live forever.
However, the classics untouchable category excludes those albums where the opening track doesn't hold up with the rest of the work, and the 1975 seem to be born and studied to ruin all these established theories. I think that's enough, if it wasn't for the fact that half of the songs here make cormorants sick, while the other half picks up Radiohead and turns it into a poptimistic version that disperses through several layers of contemporary-xeno so much that you almost think you see the crucified Madonna. Instead, it's just the best pop one can conceive of, and generally the only one that today has a political sense of existence. Anyone who says this album copies stuff already done probably never stopped wondering how the Beatles would have been in the seventies, and I really don't feel like being the advocate for lost causes, you know.
Tracklist
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