So why is The Von Bondies’ Lack of Communication on this best 1,000 albums ever thing?
It’s funny. When I started this best 1,000 albums project nearly five years ago, I already knew some of the bands and albums that would make the “list,” and in a few cases I could even tell, “oh, this one’s gonna end up pretty high.”
But part of the fun of the journey has been the surprises for me en route. For example, I didn’t realize that my adoration and awe for The Velvet Underground would go up by multiple levels, and the same goes for Alice in Chains. Two bands, by the way, that sit pretty far apart on the American music spectrum, to put it mildly.
There were a few albums though – and an elite core of bands – which growled, scratched, clawed, and demanded to be launched ever higher on my concoction of the best 1,000 albums ever.
Pawn Shoppe Heart and Lack of Communication wound up dueling for best 1k rankings supremacy, and in the end PSH nailed down the coveted slot of #58 while Lack of Communication – more raw, manic, and chaotic – notched a position just higher at #54.
“It Came From Japan” gives you everything and more to prove out precisely what I mean by this.
Which is to say: it will blow you off your ass. Your mileage will vary of course in terms of how much you enjoy getting blown off your ass in this fashion, but the truth of the ass-blowing (blown-assing?) is undeniable.
In short: it rocks, and it doth rock very hard indeed.
“No Sugar Mama” is flat-out one of my favorite garage blues tracks of all time. Shit, it might be my all-time favorite. It’s also got a jazzy swing feel and clean production that absolutely sings.
This is as good a time as any to mention that Jack White’s production magic is lovingly conjured up and down the track list. Even though he and the band reputedly got into some static back in the day, his chemistry in working with The Von Bondies is self-evident.
Speaking of White, the very White Stripes-ish “Please Please Man,” reminiscent of their 1999 self-titled release, was my entry point to Lack of Communication and what it communicated to me is that this album is one of the very best produced in the 21st century.
The bluesy and stomping and slightly mysterious “In the Act” is yet another standout.
And speaking of mysterious, “Nite Train” goes even darker and bluesier (and louder!) in a way that I can completely subscribe to.
The Von Bondies were part of that early-2000s garage rock revival moment that felt like a raw jolt to the system – while I was never all that hot on The Strokes and the bands that came out of the NYC side of that scene, The White Stripes detonated out of Detroit with red-and-white (striped) minimalism, and The Hives buzzed in from Sweden in matching suits and garage punk fury from some alternate Scandinavian dimension.
The Von Bondies fit squarely into that movement but leaned harder into the blues-punk snarl, grimier and more chaotic than their peers.
If there’s anything disappointing with relation to Lack of Communication (and Pawn Shoppe Heart), it’s the knowledge that after these two smoking and dazzling albums were released, we’ve only gotten the much more pop-oriented Love, Hate and Then There’s You (2009) since.
Perhaps this is a case when a band that truly knew their “lane” and completely dominated it, went for something larger, something else and came up short.
I suppose blame can’t really be assessed for that, and in the meantime we’ve got two scorchers that cracked the Top 60 of the best 1,000 albums ever.
Some stats & info about The Von Bondies – Lack of Communication
- What kind of musical stylings does this album represent? Rock Music, Detroit Bands, Punk Rock, Garage Punk, Indie Rock
- Rolling Stone’s greatest 500 albums ranking – not ranked!
- All Music’s rating – 4 out of 5 stars
- When was Lack of Communication released? 2001
- My ranking, the one you’re reading right now – #54 out of 1,000
The Von Bondies’ Lack of Communication on Spotify
A lyrical snippet from The Von Bondies’ Lack of Communication that’s evocative of the album in some way, maybe
We all hail hail from rock and roll from behind a glass case.
What does the “best 1,000 albums ever” mean and why are you doing this?
Yeah, I know it’s audacious, a little crazy (okay, maybe a lot cray cray), bordering on criminal nerdery.
But here’s what it’s NOT: a definitive list of the Greatest Albums of All-Time. This is 100% my own personal super biased, incredibly subjective review of what my top 1,000 albums are, ranked in painstaking order over the course of doing research for nearly a year, Rob from High Fidelity style. Find out more about why I embarked on a best 1,000 albums ever project.