“What really matters is what you like, not what you are like.”
– Nick Hornby, High Fidelity (1995)
Readers who have enjoyed our interviews from time to time know that we typically ask artists to share their five favorite albums of all time at the end of our conversations with them. No matter who the artist is, it’s always fascinating to discover which long players have impacted their personal and professional lives. A few of our interview subjects have even scoffed at the standard five-album limit, rattling off upwards of a dozen or so titles and second-guessing if they’ve made the right choices.
Today, and considering that we’re still in the midst of the year 2020, we’re excited to reveal our writers’ respective lists of their 20 all-time favorite albums. We all reserve the right to change our minds about these choices in the future, but for now, here are the indispensable albums that we can’t live without and the reasons why.
Explore Mike Elliott’s 20 favorites below, click the “Next” button at the bottom of the page to browse the lists or return to the main index.
The Allman Brothers Band | Eat a Peach
Capricorn (1972)
Yes, Live at Fillmore East is essential, but Eat a Peach had the best of both worlds—live leftovers from the Fillmore run plus inspired studio performances. Duane's presence may have been posthumous, but it's the best tribute that could have ever been given to a fallen brother.
Chuck Berry | The Chess Box
Chess (1988)
I may be cheating here, but there's no single album that can contain all of Chuck Berry's greatness (Berry Is On Top comes the closest). More Chuck is always better, so The Chess Box is the one I always recommend. Because everyone needs as much Chuck Berry in their life as they can get.
The Black Crowes | The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion
Def American (1992)
No sophomore slump in sight. In fact, the Black Crowes' second album remains their masterpiece. Adding Marc Ford and Eddie Harsch, along with the superb backing vocals of Barbara Mitchell and Taj Harmon, this is where the Crowes joined the ranks of those they idolized.
Guy Clark | Old No. 1
RCA (1975)
My obsession with Texas singer-songwriters started with Willie Nelson, but settled right here. Guy Clark was—and always will be—a damn national treasure, and Old No. 1 is the best debut album by any singer-songwriter. Period.
Creedence Clearwater Revival | Willy and The Poor Boys
Fantasy (1969)
It's tough to pick one particular album from America's greatest rock & roll band from their unprecedented four-album run from Bayou Country (1969) to Cosmo's Factory (1970). The edge goes to Willy and the Poor Boys, if for nothing else than its inclusion of "Fortunate Son" and "It Came Out of the Sky" over an already stellar set.
Dire Straits | Alchemy: Dire Straits Live
Vertigo/Warner Bros. (1984)
Before they took over the world—and MTV—with Brothers In Arms (1985), Mark Knopfler and company had honed their pub-rock beginnings and their JJ Cale-meets-Chet Atkins-by-way-of-Bob-Dylan-and Tony-Joe-White into a finely-crafted catalog. They then expanded them to epic lengths on their first live outing. It's not a jam fest, however. Alchemy gets its magic from its dynamics: quiet moments give way to blasts of searing guitar leads and Terry Williams' ferocious drum fills.
Bob Dylan | Infidels
Columbia (1983)
His first album after his "Christian phase," Dylan teamed up with Mark Knopfler and recruited Mick Taylor for eight songs that ranged from semi-autobiographical ("Jokerman") to the state of Israel in the eyes of the rest of world ("Neighborhood Bully") to mankind's greed and endless gluttony ("Union Sundown," "License to Kill"). That "Blind Willie McTell" and "Lord, Protect My Child" didn't make the cut will always confound, but that's Dylan for ya.
Aretha Franklin | Lady Soul
Atlantic (1968)
The Queen of Soul's best album starts in high gear with "Chain of Fools" and doesn't let up. From the funky "Niki Hoeky" and Eric Clapton's guitar obbligato on the searing "Good To Me As I Am To You" to the definitive version of the definitive maternal love song "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman," everything works. Here is where Aretha proved she was an unstoppable force of nature.
The Georgia Satellites | In the Land of Salvation and Sin
Elektra (1989)
Their best-known lineup only lasted three albums, but the Georgia Satellites brought rock & roll back to the top ten in the hair-drenched days of the mid-'80s and kept the faith on all three. It was on their final platter, however, where all the wonder of American roots music combined into a melting pot of perfection—from Chuck Berry to Lowell George, their swan song was as perfect a rock album as one would hope, proving that they had nothing left to prove.
Emmylou Harris | Wrecking Ball
Elektra (1995)
One of country music's most beloved and respected artists completely reinvented herself with the help of the deep aural well that is Daniel Lanois' production. Wrecking Ball is not for the timid or for those who like their music in neat little boxes. Deeply moving, melancholy, at times harrowing, but always beautiful, it stands as one of the best albums of the nineties.
John Hiatt | Bring the Family
A&M (1987)
Recorded in four days on a shoe-string budget with a dream band of Ry Cooder, Nick Lowe, and Jim Keltner. A collection of songs that celebrated sobriety, monogamy, responsibility, loyalty, resilience, and redemption in the age of excess.
Willie Nelson | Red Headed Stranger
Columbia (1975)
Sparse, haunting, timeless. Willie Nelson famously turned in what the suits at Columbia thought was a demo. Refusing to change a note, it became the then-42-year-old veteran singer-songwriter's first major hit, and he hasn't stopped yet.
Wilson Pickett | The Best of Wilson Pickett
Atlantic (1967)
Like Chuck Berry, the power of the Wicked Pickett couldn't be contained in one album. I grew up with this collection and to this day, it's the best representation of the greatest soul shouter that ever lived. Otis may have brought the pain and emotion, but Pickett's vocals were dangerous, threatening, and always about sex; a midnight mover in the midnight hour—when ninety-nine and a half just won't do.
[Note: The Best of Wilson Pickett is not currently available via streaming services]
Elvis Presley | Elvis: A Legendary Performer, Volume 1
RCA (1974)
There have been countless Elvis comps, but this is the one that best represents the King of Rock & Roll in all his frustratingly complicated glory. From his groundbreaking days at Sun to his schmaltzy movies to his glorious '68 comeback special, with even a couple of brief interview snippets, this is the one to start with.
[Note: Elvis: A Legendary Performer, Volume 1 is not currently available via streaming services]
The Rolling Stones | Let It Bleed
Decca (1969)
Exile On Main St may be the critics' favorite, but the danger, violence, sex, and debauchery contained on the album that slammed the door on the sixties—and peace and love—is truly the Stones—and rock's—most powerful statement.
Rod Stewart | Every Picture Tells a Story
Mercury (1971)
Never have acoustic guitars and mandolins rocked so hard or swung so mightily. EPTAS is a joyous romp through life by one of rock's all-time greatest singers and storytellers. What happened to that guy?
Kevin Welch | Western Beat
Reprise (1992)
One of the most underrated artists of the 1990s and beyond, Kevin Welch quietly built a catalog of fantastic songs that are still a joy to hear. His best is still a toss-up between his third album, Life Down Here On Earth (1995), and its predecessor, Western Beat. Beat has the slight edge for me if only because of the inclusion of Welch's definitive take on John Hiatt's "Train To Birmingham."
Junior Wells | Hoodoo Man Blues
Delmark (1965)
While a lot of blues music was starting to add horns and strings to appeal to white audiences, Wells holed up with his Chicago Blues Band (including Buddy Guy doing his very best accompaniment) and came up with an album full of raw, no-frills, take no prisoners juke joint ravers. Chicago blues at its best.
Chris Whitley | Living With the Law
Columbia (1991)
Sam Phillips once said about Howlin' Wolf, "this is where the soul of man never dies." Chris Whitley's Living With the Law is where the soul of Robert Johnson was resurrected. Hellhounds are on Whitley's trail throughout this masterpiece. It was his debut, but there was already a sense of time running out. Darkness surrounds its borders, but its raw beauty is unrelenting. Dirt, abandoned cars, dilapidated shacks, dusty tools scattered about—this is an album that sounds like no other from an artist that was both behind, and ahead, of his time.
Neil Young & Crazy Horse | Ragged Glory
Reprise (1990)
The World's Loudest Garage Band unleashed a full hour's worth of feedback-heavy melodic sludge, pointing the way toward the Great Grunge Takeover of the early-nineties, while proving that its godfather can still out-rock—and out-write—the best of them.