495: Bonnie Raitt, "Give it Up"

Before: She sings that song where she solicits her companion to inspire her spectators to talk about affection, right? ("Let's give 'em something to talk aboooooooooout...") She's got red hair and a sassy voice, but she seems more my parents' music.

During: Boy, did I misjudge miss Bonnie! She's got soul and rhythm seeping out of her clapping hands and her swingin' beats! Her music was full of everything pleasant, but not just a half-baked record. She put real energy and herself into this album, and it was a joy to hear. It tickled me to be able to discern her age by this music. She sounded young and spry.
As an aside, her song "Angel from Montgomery" is a gem. I group it with "Wagon Wheel" because of the comfort in which those songs enshroud me.
The album cover is also lovely.

496: Boz Scaggs, "Boz Scaggs"

Before: I think my dad's into him.

After:
Didn't get much from it, besides a better identification of who he is. I was always unable to affix any sort of reputation to his name because it was so unique. I think of it as both spiny and slippery; spiny because of the harsh, bold letters (B, Z, C, G) in his name and slippery because, well, I couldn't remember much about him ever.
He did a little yodeling, a little folkie country singer-songwriter yip de doo. He was sort of like a slice of yellow cake that tastes like lemon-tinged water. You expected more out of it, but just have to come to terms that it came and went and was, regretfully, forgettable.
Sorry Boz, but you just didn't do it for me this time. Maybe I'll try again sometime.

497: The White Stripes, "White Blood Cells"

Before: I think they're a punk band. They sing the more depressing version of "We Are Going to Be Friends" (as opposed to my Hawaiian beach god singer, Jack Johnson.) I hope the music isn't speckled with crashes and loud guitar riffs and other punky stuff like that. Having just mused over the latest Teen Vogue spread on punk, I am not in the mood for dingy, dark, sour music. Dark alleys are not where I want to be (and yes, I'm associating punk with dark alleys.)

After: That was fun!
This album showed me how punk can be enjoyable. We had poignant lyrics. We had melodies that were just shy of that perfect, harmonious sound. It wasn't scrubbed clean or sanitized by auto tuning. It retained grime; some wear and tear that presented a tense contrast not unlike the conversation between a carefully chosen wine and an artful dinner.
If you are completely lost or think I've gone bonkers with my use of the English language, please let me know.
Here's a fact: I listened to this album while redesigning my resumé and relaxed. That's saying something.
I'm not one to sit around and listen to garage-y bands, but this one was a more "glam" version of that sect of bands.

Also, how could I dislike a band that put a biological term in their album name? ;)