Tweeting Music... by James Nuttall ©

KT Tunstall: Uummannaq Song. Built around synthesisers and a two-string guitar, Tunstall invokes the primal feel of the Greenland town. 

Marianne Faithfull: Broken English. Nicotine-stained vocals spouting words of war, Faithfull promises an unsmooth ride in her comeback LP. 

Lindsey Buckingham: Wait For You. The maestro of Fleetwood Mac adds layer upon layer of guitars to evoke what words could never say. 

Sheryl Crow: Ordinary Morning. Her second album, much heavier than the first, ends with this whirling pool of frustration and despair.

Kasabian: Secret Alphabets. One of the most eerie things you’ll ever hear, it’s worth buying the CD just for this tracks haunting melodies. 

Stevie Nicks: Planets of the Universe. She’s possibly the one woman on earth who can sing long-worded, pissed-off poetry and keep her cool. 

Cream: Crossroads. One day people finally realise that this song is about Jack Bruces pumping bass line that carries every Clapton solo.

Suzi Quatro: Strict Machine. Covering Goldfrapp, Quatro shows she’s still got the voice and killer bass-lines that took her to the top. 

Eagles: Hotel California. If you’re ever driving down the motorway at sunset, it should be a legal requirement to play this late 70’s album. 

Pink Floyd: Animals. If these guys ever stopped to take a breath, they might realise how boring and pretentious their elongated drivel is. 

The Clash: Lost in the Supermarket. A melancholy highlight on an otherwise overrated album, this is class for The Clash. 

Carole King: Tapestry. Back when women could sing without choreographed dancing and revealing outfits, King sings like a ‘natural woman’. 

Phoenix: Armistice. In a world where artillery is replaced by electric guitars on an Indie battlefield the French kick Britain into touch.  

Meg Baird: Friends. A soft Philadelphian vocal over a plucked guitar piece, Baird proves that all folk music needs is an acoustic guitar. 

Jimmy Destri: Heart on a Wall. It’s more faceless than the invisible man, but Blondie’s keyboardist and hit-writers solo LP is a winner.  

T’Pau: Bridge of Spies. It may not exactly be cool to like them, but I defy anyone to listen to Deckers voice and say they are not stunned. 

Florence and the Machine: Howl. Don’t get on the wrong side of Florence Welch; her voice will haunt you even if you haven’t pissed her off. 

Curved Air: Marie Antoinette. Sonja Kristina’s operatic voice weaves the French queen’s story brilliantly in the 1972 prog classic. 

Christine McVie: Northern Star. Put this on your iPod if you go for a walk on a lazy summer afternoon, McVie is the essence of soothing. 

Goldfrapp: Dreaming. Only Alison Goldfrapp could make electropop this sexy; she’s nearly 50 and gay- Rhianna would kill to be so seductive. 

Mike Oldfield: Tubular Bells. This is the ultimate musical journey; either the 48 minute track will take you to another world or to a coma. 

David Bowie: Space Oddity. Bowie lifts you into his stratosphere, using his two-way intercom vocals and ‘spacey’ melody. 

The Rolling Stones: Sway. Forget Brown Sugar, ‘Sticky Fingers’ is made by this improvised sounding swinger- not a first for the Stones. 

Janis Joplin: Try. More polished than Big Brother, but rocks first woman knocks the varnish off Kozmic Blues with those bitter-sweet tones. 

Blondie: Autoamerican. It’s got hip-hop, post-punk, 20’s pop, rap, techno, new wave and… jazz; so why does it work so well together? 

Foo Fighters: Wasting Light. Okay, so it’s got big guitar riffs and some memorable songs, but I don’t see what all the fuss is about. 

Arctic Monkeys: Mardy Bum. Infectious guitar riffs are ironically complimented with

Turners regional accent voice slurring out the lyrics. 

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers: Something Big. Wonderful southern rock, beautifully arranged, but Petty sings like a goat with the flu.

Fleetwood Mac: Tusk. A 20 song double album and no filler in sight- get off the Rumours bandwagon already- it’s 1979, time for diversity.  

Kim Carnes: Bette Davis Eyes. As smooth and as cool as the actress it’s based upon- Carnes’ husky vocals brilliantly contrast the smooth synths.

Sheryl Crow: 100 Miles from Memphis. Sophisticated country- it could have been ripped from any Frey/Henley songbook for an Eagles record. 

Kim Richey: Just My Luck. If Dolly Parton was several bra-sizes smaller and, Kim Richey would rule the country/pop charts. 

Patti Smith: 25^th Floor. Never before has the verb ‘spitting’ a lyric been better applied to a singer’s performance style. 

The Subways: Money and Celebrity. Juvenilia at its worst- this trio need to make songs that sound more sincere and mature. 

Elton John: Mona Lisa and Mad Hatters. The expression is just as prominent in the piano parts, as always, as it is in Johns lilting voice. 

David Bowie: Life on Mars. Bowies chorus cries disproves this theory… if there were life on the red planet they would have responded. 

Elvis Costello: Watching the Detectives. An element of Woody Allen in Costellos somewhat goofy vocal, blended with a killer bass line. 

Freda Payne: Band of Gold. A smoother Tina Turner, Paynes attitude slides right into this soul classic through a flawless vocal. 

Espers: Dead Queen. Psychedelic, dark Philadelphian folk, Espers have the potential to conquer the world of music for seances.

Kirsty MacColl: A New England. An upbeat pop moment for an otherwise new-wave toughie, MacColl should have played the pop card more often. 

Jefferson Airplane: White Rabbit. Jack Casadys bass tone tells you you’re in for the trip of a lifetime; Slicks voice entices you even more. 

The Byrds: Eight Miles High. Low buzzing harmonies make you feel like you’re just taking off from a 3 minute long runway. 

Led Zeppelin: Going to California. It’s the calm before the storm (When the Levee Breaks) in one of the 1970s definitive rock albums. 

Oasis: Acquiesce. Guitar-driven 90s rock, great to hear Noels voice on the chorus contrasting little brother, Liams, voice on the verses. 

Haight-Ashbury: Freeman Town. They may be from Glasgow, but the two sisters voices sound as free as the town the band is named after. 

Rae Morris: Walls. Sophisticated lyrics for a 19 year old, Morris’s voice only needs a piano for support in her deep and intense ballads. 

Dire Straits: Heavy Fuel. If this song came along 15 years earlier it would have had more impact. Most of it’s been said time after time. 

Jackson Browne: Running on Empty. If you want a west-coast taste of what it was like to be on the road in the 70s, this is the LP to get. 

Fairground Attraction: Perfect. A fusion of jazz and pop, Eddi Reader’s voice controls the swing of the whole song- she’s sharp and soft. 

Nick Glider: Roxy Roller. Bubblegum pop has a sprinkling of grit to it, as Glider trips through the bouncy rock ditty. 

By James Nuttall