Mary J Blige, What’s The 411
I first heard this album on the top deck of the Number 50 bus in Birmingham. Me and my best mate Richard were on our way into town and I heard Reminisce coming from someone’s Walkman. “Mary J Blige”, Rich, my go-to guy for all things R&B in the 90s, told me when I wondered who the hell that was singing with such pathos and pain — emotions that appealed greatly to my awkward 16-year-old self. I went immediately to HMV and bought the vinyl. The album – from Real Love to I Don’t Want To Do Anything Else, a mind-blowing duet with Mary’s ex lover K-Ci Hailey – wasn’t only wonderful because of the emotion Mary poured into every note, but because I’d never heard anything like it in my life. New Jill Swing, hip-hop n’ R&B, call it what you like, I couldn’t get enough. 15-ish years later, I got the Queen herself to sign the record and, tbh, had a little cry of happiness imagining my teen self knowing I’d one day get to meet my hero several times. What’s The 411 is not only my coming of age album, it’s one of my favorite albums of all time. Hattie Collins, Music Editor
The Fugees, The Score
I first heard Lauryn Hill’s vocal on Killing Me Softly soaring through the kitchen one Saturday morning and had to wait with my ear-pressed against the radio to make sure I didn’t miss who this was over my shouting brothers (there was no Shazam either.) I got the album as soon as I could and then a whole new world unfolded, not just with the hugely popular tracks Fu-Gee-La or Ready or Not, but also with the rap references I didn’t understand (but endeavored to) and the crazy interludes, like the fight in the Chinese take out joint. It opened up many new worlds – New York, hip hop, Haiti, soul and the group’s fresh style in the music videos. It became my soundtrack to Leeds city center shopping, teenage house parties and the school run with my mates, along with Busta Rhymes, A Tribe Called Quest, TLC, SWV, Missy and deep, vocal house. Stuart Brumfitt, Digital News Editor
Avril Lavigne, Let Go
The only CDs my parents bought me were S Club 7 and Britney Spears. Don’t get me wrong: I loved them, but I didn’t listen to the radio or anything so I didn’t know anything else. Then someone at school sang Avril Lavigne’s Complicated and everything changed! I was desperately shy for no particular reason, so all her lonely songs; Losing Grip, Unwanted, Nobody’s Home (you get the gist, lol) made me think that if she was sad and cool, I could be too. I mean, I definitely never became cool, but by the time I realized that I’d started talking to people so I didn’t need Avril as much! I’ll still <3 her forever. Felicity Kinsella, Assistant Editor
Destiny’s Child, The Writing’s On The Wall
“Hey, how you doin’, yeah I’m doin’ mighty fine, last time I seen ya, it’s been a long time…” blasts Beyoncé in the opening lyrics to So Good, from Destiny’s Child second album, The Writing’s on the Wall. Everyday I would come in from school and listen to the album from intro to outro (including the bonus Timbaland remix of Get off the Bus, if you know, you know). I still know every word and attest to this day that the album is flawless. Harmonies like honey, pro feminist pop a-plenty and a catalogue of videos that had me singing along to Say My Name in my living room as my dad looked on in utter confusion. Destiny’s Child rightly went on to define what is was to be a girl group and now they’re up there with some of the biggest selling female groups of all-time. To me, it all started with The Writing’s on the Wall. Lynette Nylander, Managing Editor
Manic Street Preachers, The Holy Bible
Few albums could define my teenage years so completely, I listened to it probably everyday from about the age of 13 to 19, devoured it, from the Jenny Saville cover, to the quotes printed in the CD booklet. It had everything to soundtrack your coming of age; it was angsty, beautiful, intelligent, sad, individual, tragic, stylish. It formed its own little world studded with references to obscure philosophers, pop culture, politics, that in itself was an education, and in pre-internet days formed its own bubble to get lost in and read around. The songs themselves dealt with everything from American imperialism to serial killers, depression to prostitution. And it sounded like nothing I’d heard before or since, an angrier Joy Division, a politicized Public Image, melding melodic punk with abrasive industrial noise, lyrics twisting and turning and trying to squeeze in as much as possible around the guitar lines. And they looked so perfect, (Raf owes so much to band’s style) coming on stage in matching army surplus, wearing balaclavas and camo to Top Of The Pops, it seemed a time when the weird outsiders could take over popular culture; it was the beautiful sadness of youth, only militarized and angry. The tragedy of Richie’s disappearance/suicide only added to the mystique. Felix Petty, Content Manager
Rancid, …And Out Come the Wolves
Going to secondary school in Devon, where my black and pink glitter plastic “shag bracelets” were considered weird and gross (until five months later when the “popular” girls caught on), I finally found my ride or die tribe in a group of weird punks from a tiny village called Colyton. We used to drive around the country lanes in shitty Ford Escorts wearing huge baggy jeans, fat Etnies trainers and black hoodies, chain smoking Marlboro Lights with Ruby Soho on so loud it came out distorted through the crappy car speakers. Charlotte Gush, Assistant News Editor
Artful Dodger, It’s All About the Stragglers.
Its release coincided with the moment bouncers started to nod at me and quietly usher me through the velvet ropes of their dingy establishments. I was 16 but had finally broken through the previously impenetrable wall of muscle, tailoring and dismissive, “Can I see your ID please?” What Ya Gonna Do? was the first song I remember dancing to, but multiple versions of every song from the album soundtracked some of my earliest, funniest, silliest and dirtiest nights out. Re-rewind…. Steve Salter, Head of Socials
The Libertines, Up The Bracket
My friend Lauren played me this record when we were in our early teens. As we sat on a carpet of clothes on my bedroom floor, struggling to deal with our impossible emotions, I realized how awesome music could be. We listened to the CD over and over again, never quite understanding exactly what Pete was on about but loving and learning the words off by heart nonetheless. Special mentions should also go to SPICE, Aaron Carter (the eponymous debut and my first <3), and the soundtrack to Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2 that made the year 2000 worth living. Francesca Dunn, Assistant Music Editor
Dr Dre, 2001 / Eminem, The Marshall Mathers
Dr. Dre, 2001 and Eminem, The Marshall Mathers LP were the soundtrack to my teens, playing Pro Evo and smoking weed! Two of the greatest hip-hop albums ever. Scratch that, two of the greatest albums ever, full stop! The instrumentals alone are just too much. Forgot About Dre, What’s The Difference and Who Knew from The Marshall Mathers LP are ones that I would repeat over and over. CERTIFIED BANGERS! James Hutchins, Assistant Music Editor
Various Artists, Cruel Intentions OST
Cruel Intentions was everything to me. Kathryn was my idol, and Sebastian was my schoolgirl crush, but the soundtrack was even better. I listened to Color Blind when I was feeling blue, Every You, Every Me when I was angry and Bitter Sweet Symphony when I knew that, actually, everything was going to be ok 🙂 Tish Weinstock, Editorial Assistant