A year’s worth of music listening, whittled down to the core. Because in the end, there can be only 10.
It’s the end of the year, and time to sum it up: Ten albums, all great, no filler.
The past 10 years have upturned the music world, and we’re all better for it. A countdown of the year’s best music, and the artist of the decade is named.
After 12 months of listening, only 10 records remain.
Because album lists shouldn’t happen only once a year. Rounding out the ‘80s, music from the year America chose wrong.
Because album lists shouldn’t happen only once a year. Now arriving within two decades of the present day.
Because year-end album lists shouldn’t happen just once a year. In this installment: The lists and timeline converge.
In the past 12 months thousands of albums were released, but there are only 10 you’ll need to remember.
Emptying out a storage space in Houston means judging sentimental value against what fits in the car.
Even though it wasn’t an election year, in 1985 Alex P. Keaton could have run for president—and won.
It was no Orwellian nightmare; to have nightmares you need to sleep, and you can’t sleep when you lay awake terrified about nuclear war.
Because album lists shouldn’t happen only once a year. In this installment: The New Wave was drying up and the New Romantics were taking hold. But tell that to a Cub Scout in 1983 and you’ll get a blank stare.