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Much of the material from the first three Doors albums (of which this was the third) were culled from Jim Morrison's notebooks, filled with poetry and songs he had written mostly before joining the band. Lyrically, they reflect his heavy use of LSD, as well as his obsessions with the elements, death, crime, excess, conflict, shamanism, theater, and cinema. The images conjured by his words are highly visual, and also disturbing. Morrison reveled in the youth culture rebellion of the late 1960s, but he did not see innocence, peace, and love as idyllically as most of his hippie contemporaries. Led primarily by his visions, the music of the Doors between 1967 and 1968 explored the primitivism, hedonism, and violence inherent in American's cultural struggles of the period.

It is arguable that Waiting For the Sun perfects the band's unique image even more so than it's two predecessors, which are generally more revered by critics and fans. Morrison-penned songs like "Not to Touch the Earth," "The Unknown Solider," and "Five to One" each reflect a sense of anger and dread, conveying the sense that some unknown cataclysm awaits everything society holds dear. References to the Kennedy assassination, the Vietnam War, and increasing civil unrest abound. These songs are punctuated by less confrontational love songs like "Hello, I Love You," and "Love Street," and groovy interludes like "Spanish Caravan" and "We Could Be So Good Together," but it is the more disturbing material that feels the most inspired and ultimately leaves the greatest impression.

Electric Ladyland is the record I usually mention as my favorite of all-time. While it marked the end of the Jimi Hendrix Experience's time as a group, it also marked the beginning of Jimi taking full creative control over his own music, as producer Chas Chandler walked away during its recording. As a result, the double album has a varied sound that, while considered uneven by some, shows off the full range of Jimi Hendrix's capabilities.

There are, of course, the straight-ahead rockers, the best of which still benefit from the concise, radio-minded production of Chandler prior to his departure. "Crosstown Traffic" and "Come On (Let the Good Times Roll)" are fine examples. Then there is the sprawling but eardrum-shattering blues jam "Voodoo Chile," and the jazz rock experiments "Rainy Day, Dream Away" and "Still Raining, Still Dreaming." Those last two bookend a personal favorite for me, which is the psychedelic epic "1983.... (A Merman I Should Turn to Be)," which is best listened to alone, with the proper speakers all around you, and either your eyes closed or the lights out. It is truly a life-changing experience. The first time I did that, was the first time I realized that Jimi Hendrix is hands-down my favorite recording artist.

The album closes out with two of the greatest hard rock classics ever put to wax. "All Along the Watchtower" is as fiery a rendition of a Bob Dylan song as you'll ever hear, complete with one of Hendrix's most intense guitar solos and an all-around thrilling arrangement. It's no wonder that this, of all songs, became Jimi's first top 40 single in the U.S. "Voodoo Child (Slight Return)" serves as a coda not only to the album, but the career of the Experience, and ultimately of Hendrix himself (This would prove to be the final studio LP released during his lifetime). Amid a hurricane of swirling, roaring guitars not heard since his own "Purple Haze," Jimi says "I didn't mean to take up all your sweet time / I'll give it right back to you one of these days / If I don't meet you no more in this world / I'll meet you on the next one, don't be late." And thus the Jimi Hendrix Experience fittingly left the world with a song as sonically powerful as any they had ever recorded, on a record that pushed the limits of rock music further than anyone had previously attempted.

Right from it's start, with the opening title track, Jim Morrison and crew let their listeners know that they're in for more darkness and weirdness. The hypnotic droning of the music and vocals compliment paranoid lyrics on a song that still manages to be somehow enchanting to the ears. That's the Doors in microcosm, isn't it? And, in many ways, that's this album, too. From catchy blues rock ("Love Me Two Times") to theatrical epics ("When the Music's Over"), to pretentious spoken word poetry ("Horse Latitudes"), Strange Days is a fine example of all that the group was capable of, for better or worse. "People Are Strange" and "Moonlight Drive" are two personal favorites, as both are well-crafted, thought-provoking, and enjoyable to listen to as well. Songs like these, as well as a few others included, represent how very good the Doors could be when at their best, and explain why they were one of the most interesting American rock acts of the late 1960s.

It may not be the most original material, but if you cannot enjoy the energy and passion with which Greta Van Fleet delve into these Zeppelin-esque rockers, then either your ears or your heart (possibly both) need re-calibrated.

Recorded years before its release, "Birth of the Cool" documents Miles Davis's first real outings as a bandleader, and the resulting invention of what would subsequently be known as cool jazz. Having recently worked a sideman for the likes of Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie when these recordings were made in 1949-50, Davis takes the jumping rhythm of bebop (bebop legend Max Roach is here as a drummer, after all) and marries it with his own, emotionally detached persona, as exemplified through the laid-back, tasteful playing which would become his signature style. Despite his now-familiar approach to the trumpet, this album sounds unlike any other Davis LP, primarily because the master himself was already exploring new forms of music by the time of its release. Perhaps the best part of these sessions is that Miles was surrounded by like-minded musicians who would go onto to form the nucleus of the West Coast jazz scene, and thus his nonet plays with a unity that sounds like a big band playing modern jazz meant for small combos.

The first truly remarkable record of 2018 that I have heard thus far. Funky, eclectic, gorgeous, and bluesy, Con Todo El Mundo is impossible to categorize into a single genre, and pretty damn impossible to describe with words. If you like blues, soul, world music, funk, or simply electric guitar, give it a listen. You will not be disappointed.

A disturbing yet undeniably classic hard rock (metal, grunge, alternative rock, modern rock, whatever you want to call it) record that feels like it was written and recorded inside of the very tomb alluded to in the haunting "Down in a Hole" track. Rarely has there been a song that speaks so frankly about self-loathing and addiction ("You don't understand who they thought I was supposed to be / Look at me now, a man who wont let himself be"). It was a message with which many in the so-called Generation X could relate, and it still resonates today as opiate addiction spreads once more through the U.S. I actually prefer the version of this song from "MTV Unplugged," however.

The swampy radio hit "Rooster" is the record's best track amid a series of standouts, perhaps because it is one of the rare songs which temporarily breaks the lyrical themes of self-destruction. It is the type of song that could only be written either by a man who has survived warfare, or by one who was raised by the survivor, full of poetic personal details and chilling first-hand observations.

Dirt is an apt title for the album. Everything about the record feels grainy, course, and decayed, which is clearly by design. As heroin-addicted singer Layne Staley's nasal, anguished, and grime-encrusted voice pours across each track, his songwriting and singing partner Jerry Cantrell miraculously harmonizes with him over distorted guitars full of foreboding. While Dirt is not exactly a pleasure to listen to, it is without a doubt a fascinating listen, one that is addictive in and of itself.

Regarded by many as Simone's greatest artistic triumph, Wild is the Wind his a collection of very different songs that work together on multiple levels. They work as social commentary, the singer voicing her frustration with the limited opportunities of African American women in a ways both overt and subtle. They also work as a showcase for the artist's versatility, as she tackles everything from sexy soul to soothing pop, from traditional folk to angry blues. Simone was not just capable of playing in these varied mediums; she could turn each into mesmerizing performance art, powerful self-expression composed of elegance and drama simultaneously.

Buddy Guy's signature live album, This is Buddy Guy! featured the bluesman in his prime (already revered by his peers) and unhindered by the restrictions of recording in a studio for producers and label expectations. Thus listeners are treated to some of the most blazing extended solos and soulful singing of Buddy's career to this day. There is not a weak track, "Fever" and "I Got My Eyes On You" are both highlights. Searing 1960's blues.

Without a weak track among the six, Song for My Father is a marvelous blend of bebop, rhythm & blues, and world musics into a seamless, accessible, and moving collection which passes by much too fast. Enjoyable from start to finish, the record benefits from Silver's versatile understanding of both rhythm and lead on piano, the bebop perfectionism of trumpeters Carmell Jones and Blue Mitchell, and a rhythm section capable of any thing of which Silver asks them. One of the late standouts of bebop/hard bop.