The 7 Best Albums of 1959 Ranked
Reflecting on the whole decade of the 1950s, as I was wont to do while listening to the “research” for this piece on the best albums of its final year, I am fascinated by how drastically certain paradigms had shifted from 1950 to 1959. The same could be said about any ten-year span of time, I suppose, but this decade saw the very concept of the “album” as an artistically measurable release being born as a not-so-coincidence with the emergence of the long-playing record technology. But I also see (or rather, hear) some of the stagnation that would ironically create the fertile ground of experimental explosion in the mid 1960s. By no means did the (American) music industry suddenly have nothing to offer. But some of the rock and roll sounds had been mainstreamed and cheapened, made cheesy even by the standards of the day. Young artists’ pop music was incorporating those elements to mixed results. And the sudden veterans could sound expressly old-fashioned, even from this retrospective position.
It’s all the more remarkable that country and folk were plugging on with truly old-fashioned traditions and sounding fresh in the process, while jazz was excitedly charting new sonic territories to similar success. This is not to broadly consign certain genres to the trash heap. As you will soon see, this list is not actually dismissive of them. But when looking at the year that contained the first two Grammy Awards and “The Day the Music Died” (when the plane carrying Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and The Big Bopper), I can’t help but anticipate the seismic shifts to come in the next few years, just like the first wave of rock and roll had caused just a few short years earlier.
#7 — RITCHIE VALENS — Ritchie Valens
Favorite track: “Bluebirds over the Mountain”
As with Holly and the Big Bopper, the aforementioned “Day the Music Died” looms large over the story of Ritchie Valens. I can’t claim to have had any previous particular connection to Valens, unlike the many fans of the biopic LA BAMBA (1987), for example. But in spite of my passing familiarity with him and his music, I was finally clued into why the rising teen star’s death (he was only 17) was of any note at all when I listened to RITCHIE VALENS. While Valens wasn’t able to produce many recordings in his very brief career and life, the intuitively engaged energy he brought to rock and roll and pop is refreshing. His self-titled debut was actually a posthumous record, released just after the February 3, 1959 crash. But RITCHIE VALENS is certainly alive. The massive song “La Bamba,” while a bit too jangling because of its ubiquity in movies and the like since its release, was indeed a hit for a reason. And Valens’ version of “Bluebirds over the Mountain” is a soulful tune that reflects the artist’s prodigal skills. RITCHIE VALENS does carry a little more weight because of its title star’s young age and too-soon end, to be sure, but it’s also a great rock and roll album that rises above the rash of records in the genre from 1959.
#6 — MOANIN’ IN THE MOONLIGHT — Howlin’ Wolf
Favorite track: “Smokestack Lightning”
Legendary blues musician Howlin’ Wolf’s first album MOANIN’ IN THE MOONLIGHT is actually a representation of recording work he had been doing for the better part of a decade before its release in 1959. The singles it collects are among some of the most influential and best blues songs of their time, from “Evil” to “Smokestack Lightning,” my personal favorites from the incredible run of tracks on the record. While the rawness of Wolf is very much present on MOANIN’ IN THE MOONLIGHT (that voice can never be construed with anyone else’s), most of the singles are just produced enough to capture the distinction of Willie Johnson’s guitar playing and the other instrumental backing rather than mush them all together. That’s not always the case with early and mid ’50s blues recordings. MOANIN’ IN THE MOONLIGHT is a vital artifact of a particular style of blues playing, but more importantly, it vibrates with a fun yet somewhat ominous energy that is still potent today.
#5 — ELLA FITZGERALD SINGS THE GEORGE AND IRA GERSHWIN SONG BOOK — Ella Fitzgerald
Favorite track: “But Not for Me”
ELLA FITZGERALD SINGS THE GEORGE AND IRA GERSHWIN SONG BOOK may be the crown jewel of the singer’s acclaimed “Song Book” series of eight albums. This mammoth box set covers a lot of ground of two of the most important composers in American popular music history. While many might be familiar with the songs on THE GEORGE AND IRA GERSHWIN SONG BOOK from an array of versions over the years, Fitzgerald’s iconic phrasing and interpretation, along with Nelson Riddle’s arranging, bring fresh perspectives and pleasures to these tunes. Her version of “But Not for Me” is nearly the best I’ve heard (just behind Chet Baker’s vocal one). While I must admit a certain weariness in the middle of listening to this lengthy record over and over to truly evaluate it, every time I came away with a new appreciation for different tracks and a palpable sense that few have done vocal jazz and smooth arranging better than Fitzgerald and Riddle, a wonderful pairing to do THE GEORGE AND IRA GERSHWIN SONG BOOK justice.
#4 — WHAT’D I SAY — Ray Charles
Favorite track: “What’d I Say”
Like MOANIN’ IN THE MOONLIGHT, WHAT’D I SAY collects a number of Ray Charles singles stretching back to 1951 rather than serving as a concerted effort to create a “thematic” concept of a new record. And yet the selected songs pull together to reflect the “Genius” and his appeal up to this point in his career. “What’d I Say” is an iconic song for a reason and its particular fusion of rhythm and blues, an upcoming definition of “soul,” and even a little bit of rock and roll is electrifying. This dynamic is reflected by the whole of WHAT’D I SAY, a danceable exhibition of the growing strength of Charles’ voice, both from his mouth and by embodying his unique recontextualization of a number of musical genres, concepts, and influences.
#3 — GUNFIGHTER BALLADS AND TRAIL SONGS — Marty Robbins
Favorite track: “Big Iron”
“Big Iron” has become a meme song, but it’s an incredible example of lyrical storytelling and lush country-western songwriting and production. The same goes for the rest of GUNFIGHTER BALLADS AND TRAIL SONGS, probably Marty Robbins’ lasting legacy. The singer’s voice is so resonantly deep and his emphasis and phrasing of certain words on the “story songs” of this record scratch a certain part of my brain. The crooning choral backing of Tompall & the Glaser Brothers is an interestingly elegant counterpoint to Robbins’ soulful approach. GUNFIGHTER BALLADS AND TRAIL SONGS is just about the cream of the crop of its era of country music, a worthy successor in the tradition of Hank Williams that is exceedingly catchy and emotionally moving in much the same way.
#2 — KIND OF BLUE — Miles Davis
Favorite track: “So What”
I think I listen to jazz more than the average person in the United States. I don’t think I listen to nearly enough jazz to be able to 1) identify lesser-known bandleaders, band members, or composers, or more importantly, 2) identify musical elements and terms that explain why certain works resonate with me. I can barely do that with other genres with which I’m more familiar. But it’s not really a surprise to say Miles Davis’ KIND OF BLUE is great. I think it’s going to catch on. As the album opener, “So What” sets the stage for an intense experience that at once feels relaxing and totally engaging. Not all great jazz needs to be like this, but I sometimes find great jazz feels like it’s stretching the seams of musical expectation, which means it’s at risk of tearing them and falling apart. KIND OF BLUE is not anarchic in doing this, like other jazz albums are, but its composition and improvisations both settle into a groove and constantly shift into exciting and unexpected gears.
#1 — TRY ME! — James Brown
Favorite track: “Try Me”
I’ve listened to the entirety of James Brown’s discography, so I kind of already knew this, but in doing this project of year-by-year music exploration, I’ve been somewhat taken aback by how entirely catchy and accessible his earliest work still is compared to his peers’. TRY ME!, Brown’s second album with the Famous Flames, collects various singles and B-sides not present on their first, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. “Try Me” even shows up on both, but that’s OK. The soulful ballad is totally moving and somehow, even in its sad register, serenely beautiful. But of course Brown is known for upping the energy and his sophomore record is not without rousing tunes that, as with those on the debut, streamline rhythm and blues and soul into great pop hooks. TRY ME! is maybe not the most unique or boundary-pushing record of 1959, although I would argue Brown was already prefiguring a musical reshaping he would cultivate with his funk inventions. But its appeal lies in holding 16 modern-ish tracks that still feel appealingly very much of their time. TRY ME! is a refreshing listen every time, in basically any mood, making it the best album of 1959.
