Welcome to the fifth installment (Letter E) of my “Pros and Cons of Modern Music” blog series where I once again volunteer my eardrums for science. Think of me as your audio crash-test dummy, bravely colliding headfirst into the latest sonic wreckage so you don’t have to. The music “Industry” keeps cranking out product like it’s fast food for the ears, complete with artificial flavoring and emotional preservatives. But hey, corporate overlords gonna over-lord. That’s a rant for another day. Right now, I’m just trying to process the sounds themselves.
Humanity has been around for what…hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of years? Even if you’re in the “6,000 years, tops” club, we can all agree it’s embarrassing that it took us most of that time to discover electricity… and then even longer to use it for something better than music that sounds like a raccoon sneezing into a coffee can.
Steely Dan once sang, “FM — no static at all.” That wasn’t just a lyric; it was civilization high-fiving itself. Before that, radio was an event with families gathering around the static box to hear a presidential “Fireside Chat” about why everything sucked. AM radio crackled its way through the 20th century like a dying lightbulb until FM finally arrived around 1970 to save us from audio purgatory. No wonder early producers didn’t sweat sound quality, i mean, who could hear it over all the hiss anyway?
Now fast-forward to today: production values are immaculate, compression is surgical, and every pop track sparkles like it’s been dipped in glitter and polished by robots. Yet somehow, despite all the digital perfection, so much of it feels… hollow. (And no, I’m not a boomer shaking my fist at clouds since I’m actually highlighting new artists here.) But it’s hard to ignore that music has been on a slow, stylish nosedive since Mozart plunked his first piano key.
Which brings me to my latest theory: humanity may possibly be trapped inside one gigantic cosmic record changer. Remember those old stackable turntables where each album dropped onto the next with a tragic thunk?
Yeah, we’re in that dead air moment with the needle scraping off the vinyl, civilization tapping its foot impatiently while waiting for the next LP to fall. I just hope it’s The Renaissance (Deluxe Edition) and not Armageddon: The Remix.
As for this “E” installment, I once again failed to fill out a Top 20 list. Which is a bit depressing considering we’re covering releases from over three and a half decades. Maybe the letter E is just cursed. Or maybe I’m a tyrannical taskmaster with unreasonably high standards. But I don’t think so. I genuinely want to find great music, not just to recommend it, but to remind myself that somewhere, amid all the algorithms and autotune, someone’s still out there making something real.
This project is a logistical beast, and some deserving music will inevitably slip through the cracks. It isn’t designed to be exhaustive (just exhausting…lol). My focus is on three core genres – Rock, Pop, and Soul, while deliberately leaving out rap, country, heavy metal, punk, electronic and a few other sub-genres. Only artists who debuted after 1990 are eligible, and if their music isn’t available on Pandora, my go-to platform, they’re also excluded.
My hope is that these posts serve as a practical guide for curious listeners…part discovery tool, part memory jogger. And if nothing else, I’m having fun unearthing keepers and building playlists worth replaying.
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Here are my top “17” selections from the wide world of artists beginning with “E”.
#17) EMBRACE – The Good Will Out (1998)
I can’t say I embrace this album, but outright rejection feels too harsh. It’s polished, professional, and utterly sterile, like Britpop run through a car wash and stripped of its grime. The glossy production leaves every attempt at rocking out feeling oddly antiseptic, as if recorded in a hospital corridor. At first, I blamed their lack of grit on what seemed like a desperate desire to be Coldplay, only to realize this record actually predates them. Still, the conclusion stands: neither band has ever convincingly rocked a day in their lives.
Sample track: “All You Good People”
#16) EVERYTHING EVERYTHING – A Fever Dream (2017)
This one files neatly under that most self-contradictory of labels: art-pop. Personally, I like my pop gloriously stupid and self-aware since that’s half the fun. To be fair, A Fever Dream does manage a few infectious moments amid its cerebral spasms, but the whole experience is like being trapped in a kaleidoscope run by overachievers. It’s clever, dense, and ultimately exhausting. As it turns out, too much of anything is bad for you, but even an average dose of Everything Everything feels like way, way too much.
Sample track: “Can’t Do”
#15) ESSEX GREEN – Cannibal Sea (2006)
How music like this even gets made anymore, let alone promoted, is a small modern miracle (though judging by the criminally low YouTube views, “promoted” might be too generous a term). Cannibal Sea channels a breezy late-’60s folk-pop spirit without ever feeling like a costume party. With three singers trading off vocals, there’s enough tonal variety to keep things afloat…an essential trick, since the music itself is so light it occasionally threatens to float off into the ether. Pleasant is the operative word here…pleasant melodies, pleasant harmonies, pleasantly ignored by the masses.
Sample track: “Snakes in the Grass”
#14) ELEPHANT STONE – The Three Poisons (2014)
An underappreciated gem from the Canadian indie scene, and exactly the sort of discovery that makes this whole blog experiment worthwhile. Wikipedia barely acknowledges their existence, and the band’s official site offers little more, but frontman Rishi Dhir leads the group through a distinctive, modern strain of psychedelic rock that stands firmly on its own. I half-expected to be throwing around terms like “Beatlesque” or “Moody Blues knockoff,” but those clichés never fit. Instead, The Three Poisons reveals itself as something rarer…a hidden treasure that manages to sound both timeless and entirely its own.
Sample track: “Knock You From Yr Mountain”
#13) ELECTRIC SIX – Fire (2003)
This album is basically a Monster energy drink in musical form with zero nutritional value, maximum chaos, and guaranteed to make you dance like your reputation depends on it. With titles like “Naked Pictures (of Your Mother),” “She’s White,” and “Gay Bar,” subtlety clearly wasn’t invited to the recording session. Genre-wise, the band is a Frankenstein’s monster of Rock, Funk, Disco, and Synth-Pop, all stitched together and jolted to life with pure absurdity.
It didn’t spark any U.S. hits, though “Danger! High Voltage” lit up the U.K. charts. Still, “Improper Dancing” might be the most accurate theme song for this gleefully unhinged party.
#12) EAGLES OF DEATH METAL – Peace Love Death Metal (2004)
Electric Six may hail from Detroit, but if they had a spiritual twin city, it’d be Palm Desert, California, home of the gloriously unhinged Eagles of Death Metal. Despite the misleading name, (they sound like neither The Eagles nor death metal), they do rock with gleeful abandon, as if the entire album were recorded during one extended beer run. Like their Motor City counterparts, EoDM walk the fine line between “dumb fun” and outright novelty.
The first half of Peace, Love, Death Metal is a nonstop blur of swagger and sleaze, pure joy disguised as parody, until track eight, when someone thought it’d be a good idea to cover Stealers Wheel’s “Stuck in the Middle with You.” It wasn’t. The rest of the album coasts on fumes, but honestly, the ride up to that point is such a blast you barely notice you’ve hit empty.
Sample track: “Speaking in Tongues”
#11) EISLEY – Room Noises (2005)
Eisley feels like a modern reboot of The Cardigans which should come as welcome news for fans still mourning that band’s late-’90s disappearance into pop purgatory. The resemblance lies mainly in the vocals: sweet, airy, and comforting at first, like slipping into a soft cardigan on a chilly morning. Unfortunately, much like the sweater, it doesn’t take long before the warmth turns stifling and you’re clawing to get out. In other words, charming in small doses, exhausting in excess. Still, it’s the best Cardigans album The Cardigans never made.
Sample track: “Telescope Eyes”
#10) EVERYTHING BUT THE GIRL – Amplified Heart (1994)
Yes, it’s elegant, understated, and quietly devastating, but it also sounds like it was written on a Martha’s Vineyard veranda between sips of imported Earl Grey. It’s refined, urbane, and just a touch self-absorbed…sophisti-pop for people who think the world spins on the axis of their breakup. I’m not denying the wealthy have feelings; I’m just not sure I need to hear them wine about it from the deck of a yacht moored somewhere near emotional privilege bay.
Sample track: “Rollercoaster”
#9) ELIZABETH & THE CATAPULT – Taller Children (2009)
Another act that’s somehow been flying under the radar, or at least mine. Edie Brickell narrowly missed this blog’s eligibility window, and for a moment I was ready to declare Elizabeth Ziman her rightful successor. But that comparison hardly seems fair: Ziman is a far stronger vocalist, backed by a far tighter band…because, let’s face it, catapults will always crush bohemians. Despite the lack of a proper Wikipedia page, Taller Children is a sharp, tuneful, and confident debut. My only complaint? It occasionally forgets that less can be more.
Sample track: “Perfectly Perfect”
#8) EMILY KING – Scenery (2019)
I’m honestly surprised at myself for how mellow some of my picks have gotten…apparently I’ve reached the stage of life where smooth grooves sound better than guitar feedback. A decade ago, I probably would’ve written off both Emily King and Erykah Badu as elegant cures for insomnia. And I’d totally understand anyone still feeling that way about this record. But there’s no denying the sincerity here. Scenery tackles familiar romantic terrain with such grace and maturity that it turns “quiet” into a form of strength rather than sedation.
Sample track: “Remind Me”
#7) EN VOGUE – Funky Divas (1992)
This is the album that set the standard for “girl groups” everywhere…a bar so high most others have smacked their bouffants on it. Normally, I roll my eyes at albums padded with skits and diva chatter, muttering “just sing already,” but here it actually works. These women are divas – bold, glamorous, and fully in command – so the attitude feels earned, not added. Sure, the obligatory cover of “Yesterday” feels like a contractual obligation to The Beatles, and a few tracks linger longer than the party invite allows, but when Funky Divas hits, it hits big. A definitive pop landmark of the ’90s, sequins and all.
Sample track: “Giving Him Something He Can Feel”
#6) ED SHEERAN – X (2014)
I can absolutely respect the polish and pop craftsmanship on display here. I mean, the man clearly knows his way around a hook. But I’d be lying if I said Ed Sheeran is my personal cup of lukewarm English breakfast. Still, given the sheer volume of sales, streams, and chart domination this album achieved, leaving it off the list would make me look less like a critic and more like a hermit living under a rock with no Wi-Fi.
Sample track: “Sing”
#5) EVERCLEAR – So Much for the Afterglow (1997)
Named after grain alcohol, Everclear delivers songs that feel like a hangover in lyrical form, full of hard drugs, broken homes, and childhood trauma. Though technically a band, it’s really Art Alexakis’ personal therapy session set to crunchy pop-rock; even devoted fans might struggle to name his backup players. Tracks like “Father of Mine,” “Why I Don’t Believe in God,” and the cheerfully venomous hidden track “Hating You for Christmas” read like pages torn from a rehab diary. It’s a fascinating glimpse into dysfunction…compelling to visit, but definitely not a place you’d want to stay.
Sample track: “Father of Mine”
#4) EELS – Beautiful Freak (1996)
A darkly captivating album that invites you inside the mind of a man who clearly doesn’t get out much, emotionally or physically. It’s intimate, insular, and full of self-loathing dressed up as lullabies. The narrator mourns the world’s cruelty from what sounds like the safety of his dimly lit apartment, channeling his neuroses into songs that try to soothe his own “Beloved Monster.” It’s not exactly a fun listen, but if you can tune into its mood of beautiful despair, it’s strangely rewarding…like finding poetry in a nervous breakdown.
Sample track: “Your Lucky Day in Hell”
#3) ELASTICA – Elastica (1995)
Released right in the middle of grunge’s gray, flannel-clad gloom, Elastica felt like someone threw open a window and let the sunlight back in. There’s no brooding or slogging here, this band moves fast, sharp, and stylish, like punk rock that actually showered. The cover art screams ’70s nostalgia, and the music flirts with Blondie-esque new wave cool, but it never feels like imitation. Elastica is pure attitude and economy – 38 minutes of taut, clever energy.
Sample track: “Stutter”
#2) ELLIOTT SMITH – XO (1998)
Given that Smith’s personal life often mirrored the haunted protagonists of his own songs, it’s remarkable that by this point he was evolving into a pop craftsman worthy of Brian Wilson comparisons. Like Wilson, he had a gift for wrapping heartbreak in melody that was sunshine on the surface, storm clouds underneath. I’ve always found some of his earlier work a little too heavy to revisit casually, but XO rewards the patient listener; it’s intricate, intimate, and quietly devastating. Sadly, we never got to hear just how far his talent might have carried him, but this album makes it clear he was already halfway to timeless.
Sample track: “Baby Britain”
#1) ERYKAH BADU – Baduizm (1997)
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