Random Debut: An Album a Day

Featuring Nine Inch Nails, Run-D.M.C., Cyndi Lauper, and others

Nov 10, 2026

My friend Ken and I decided to listen to an album every day this year. Each week is themed. At the end of each week, we rank what we listened to. To be clear, we aren’t ranking every album that fits the theme. We are only ranking what we chose to listen to during the last seven days.

This week’s theme is “random debut,” meaning albums randomly selected from Rolling Stone’s list of the 100 greatest debut albums. You may recall we did something like this a few months ago when we listened to random selections from Rolling Stone’s 500 greatest albums list. The methodology here was similar. A random number generator spit out an integer between one and one hundred. We went to that album on the list. If we hadn’t heard it, we clicked play. If we had, we moved up the list until we found something new to our ears.

#8 Run-D.M.C. by Run-D.M.C. (1984 - #37)

In his review of Grandmaster Flash’s The Message, Mark Richardson made an astute observation about early hip-hop:

Almost every music genre has a batch of fans that consider the earliest formative material to be the never-bettered “pure” expression of the style. In jazz you have Louis Armstrong and the Hot Five records. In blues take your pick of pre-WWII blues artists like Son House or Charley Patton. In rock’n’roll you have Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, Little Richard, and Chuck Berry. In punk you have the Ramones. Even if you don’t particularly rate such seminal artists, you still have to admire their mastery of their respective idioms and the way each came to define a form.
Hip-hop doesn’t seem to work the same way; few if any fans believe it peaked with the sides released by Enjoy and Sugarhill at the dawn of the 80s, as much as they might dig selected singles. Maybe hip-hop was such a new and radical expression it took its community a few years to understand what it was about and how best its innovations could be applied.

Run-D.M.C. was not part of the first generation of hip-hop. But they were early enough where their beats and rhymes still sound rudimentary compared to those we would hear only a decade later.

Even so, Run-D.M.C.’s lack of musical and lyrical sophistication is partially compensated for by the power of their rhythms and the percussiveness of their voices as they complete each other’s bars. Songs like “Rock Box” and “Sucker M.C.’s” might not impress you for their virtuosity, but they can still pack a punch.

#7 Hard Core by Lil’ Kim (1996 - #78)

In writing about Biggie’s Ready to Die during murdered musicians’ week, I noted that the hip-hop classic had two problems:

Ready to Die’s only faults are the same as many of the other 1990s hip-hop albums we’ve listened to this year. First, it is a bit too long. Even the most gifted storyteller will struggle to hold your attention for an hour-and-fifteen-minutes. Cut out a few songs, and this album becomes tight. Second, every sex skit from the rap universe has aged poorly. I know you’re having sex, Biggie. I don’t need a reenactment.

Lil’ Kim’s Hard Core does not suffer from the former. At 52 minutes, it is relatively to the point for a 1990s hip-hop record. Hard Core does not shy away from the X-rated skit, though. The opening track is probably as close to pornography as you can get on a platinum album.

This is Lil’ Kim’s thing, though. Her raps are raunchy and salacious (e.g., “Not Tonight”: “Lay me on my back, bustin’ nuts all in me”). And I get it. If men can rap of their sexual prowess with impunity, then women should have the option too. But Hard Core’s lyrical content was a bit too much for me—independent of Lil’ Kim’s gender.

I wish that weren’t the case. Hard Core has some nice features (e.g., Jay-Z on “Big Mama Thang”). And the best beats are absolutely delectable (e.g., “Crush On You”). But some more lyrical variety, even if it weren’t G-rated, would have been nice.

#6 She’s So Unusual by Cyndi Lauper (1983 - #87)

There may be no album we’ve heard this year that is more front-loaded than Cyndi Lauper’s She’s So Unusual. The record kicks off with four classics: “Money Changes Everything,” “Girls Just Want to Have Fun,” “When You Were Mine,” and “Time After Time.” It’s not that the songs after those are bad. Track five is “She Bop,” Lauper’s controversial and celebrated ode to masturbation.

The biggest problem with the second half of the record is that the writing is weaker. But I also think it sounds more dated. Yes, the entire album was very clearly produced in the 1980s, flashy synths and gated drums accounting for most of the production.

But whereas something like “Money Changes Everything” hits you like a punch to the gut, “I’ll Kiss You” sounds like they pulled a synth out of the box and wrote around whatever the first preset they clicked was. The faux reggae of “Witness” feels just as tossed together. In short, once “She Bop” fades, you’re welcomed to move on with your day.

#5 Pretty Hate Machine by Nine Inch Nails (1989 - #84)

I’m not really into industrial rock, so I didn’t go into Pretty Hate Machine with a good attitude. I was expecting angry vocals over heavy, redundant beats. And it kind of was that. Trent Reznor is not happy throughout Pretty Hate Machine (e.g., “Something I Can Never Have”). And his lack of happiness is mostly expressed over brooding beats (e.g., “Head Like a Hole”).

But there’s also a bit more going on here. A good illustration of this is the 2010 remaster of the record closing with “Get Down, Make Love,” a Queen album cut, that was originally the B-side to “Sin,” Pretty Hate Machine’s third single. This isn’t a place I’d expect Reznor to find influence. But his music is as indebted to various electronic and rock scenes as it is to early industrial artists. In short, I don’t see myself returning to this album often, but I am interested in listening to more Nine Inch Nails.

#4 Beauty and the Beat by The Go-Go’s (1981 - #60)

You are certainly familiar with “We Got the Beat” and “Our Lips are Sealed,” the two singles that helped The Go-Go’s debut go double platinum. And if you like those, you’ll enjoy the rest of the record. It’s upbeat, punky pop that never slows down outside of “Automatic.”

#3 Music from Big Pink by The Band (1968 - #14)

Ken put out his first new album in a long time just a few weeks ago: Buyin’ Time. When I heard it, I assumed that his folksy rock must have been indebted to The Band. I was wrong. “One time,” Ken told me, “someone said I looked like Garth Hudson and then proceeded to show me maybe the worst picture I’ve ever seen of I someone. I made it a point not to listen to The Band after that.” Because of this, I knew when the random number generator spit back Music from Big Pink that we had to give it a spin despite the fact that I’d heard it before.

I’m happy to report that Music from Big Pink still sounds fresh. Artists have been chasing its loose, rootsy sound for decades. Nobody has exactly captured it because most people have neither material of this quality (e.g., “I Shall Be Released”) nor the synergy of Rick Danko, Garth Hudson, Richard Manuel, Robbie Robertson, and Levon Helm.

My only gripe upon re-listening to this record is that Levon Helm doesn’t get more lead vocals. Yes, The Band is rare in that they had three members who would have fronted almost any other band (i.e., Danko, Manuel, Helm). But there is something so special about Helm’s rustic voice that makes me upset when he’s not on the microphone.

#2 Lord Willin’ by Clipse (2002 - #12)

After Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo became a successful production duo under the name The Neptunes, they decided to make an album with another duo: Clipse. Made up of twins Gene “Malice” and Terrence “Pusha T” Thornton, Clipse was first signed Elektra Records in the middle of the 1990s. When their debut single, “The Funeral,” failed to make an impact, Elektra dropped the duo and shelved the rest of the album they had recorded.

But The Neptunes did not forget about the Thornton twins. With more success to their name, The Neptunes signed Clipse to their new label, Star Trak Entertainment, and quickly got to work on another debut. It was worth the wait. Lord Willin’ combines The Neptunes off-kilter beats (e.g., “Ma, I Don’t Love Her”) with dense rhymes vividly depicting street life and the drug trade (e.g., “Grindin’”). It’s hip-hop at its best, the beats and the bars in an endless struggle to outdo one another.

#1 Pink Flag by Wire (1977 - #62)

A few months ago, when we listened to records shorter than 25 minutes, I wrote the following about the Minutemen’s The Punch Line:

If Loose Jewels is a “punchy punk record,” then The Punch Line is the punchiest punk record. Cranking through 18 songs in 15 minutes—naturally all recorded in a single late-night session—the aptly named Minutemen waste no time on this record. What’s most astounding is that, in the words of Ken, “No song felt like it cut short.”

Wire’s Pink Flag almost makes The Punch Line look like it was made by a jam band. 15 of 21 clock in under two minutes. What’s even more impressive than that brevity is how complete these songs feel. In fact, it almost made want to recant my opinion on The Punch Line.

Something like the explosion of “It’s So Obvious” contains a universe in only 53 seconds. And when placed amid slightly longer works, like “Ex Lion Tamer” and “Mannequin,” you end up with a record that is perfectly paced, both concise and expansive.