Out magazine recently released list of 100 Greatest, Gayest Albums.
In order to compile their list, the Out editorial team reached out to gay movers and shakers, and, for some reason, I was asked to submit my top ten albums. Only one of my suggestions – Nick Drake – made the gay glossy’s cut. Apparently they had some sort of super scientific tally system or something and not enough people enjoy my picks. You know what I say to that? “Eat it.”
This means, of course, I’ll have to share some of my favorites with you, my captive audience. Now, these may not be my “favorite” albums, but they’re definitely tops.
After the jump, my own top ten and accompanying videos.
The Clipse, Lord Willin’: I first heard this album after returning from my semester abroad in South Africa. It blew my mind. This track, “Grindin'” – like almost all their tracks – pays homage to the Virginia-based duo’s day jobs as coke slingers.
Junior Senior, Junior Senior. The Swedish duo’s first album contained “Move Your Feet,” which I first heard while in visiting a friend London. Something else happened that night: the United States invaded Iraq.
Rachel’s, Music For Egon Schiele. A must-have for anyone into minimalist composition, this album’s absolutely perfect for two things: a winter morning and silent, heartbreakingly intimate sex. Here’s one of my favorite tracks: “Wally, Egon and the Models in the Studio.”
Jim Croce, Best Of… Regular readers are no stranger to Jim Croce’s distinctive sound. Or you shouldn’t be, at least – I’ve posted him a number of times. My grandmother – whom I recently interviewed – turned me on to Croce when I was about six or so, and I’ve been hooked ever since. Here I’ve included one of Croce’s most famous songs, “Time In A Bottle.” The video features Croce playing with his son in 1972. Unfortunately, Croce died one year later.
Frank Tovey, The Best Of Fad Gadget. Under the stage name “Fad Gadget,” Frank Tovey brought a bit of avant-garde action to the early 80s New Wave scene. Anyone claiming to be a music aficionado should familiarize themselves with Tovey’s sound, like this 1981 performance of “For Whom The Bell Tolls.”