The Used Albums Download Beatles Top Most Valuable Vinyl List
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the used albums download Beatles top most valuable vinyl list. Records by artists including the Beatles, Sex Pistols, Queen and Led Zeppelin feature in a new list charting the most sought after vinyl. The top 20 most valuable records have been recorded by website LoveAntiques.com and vinyl specialist Phil Barton for the Daily Record. A one-sided acetate of the Beatles 1963 single Love Me Do is worth £80,500 – as there’s only one known pressing – while some versions of their debut album Please Please Me valued at up to £7500. Other vinyl in the list includes Jean-Michel Jarre’s 1983 album Music For Supermarkets , which has a price tag of between £10,000-£30,000. Jarre made only a single copy of the record available before destroying the master tapes. A pressing of Sex Pistols’ God Save The Queen which was released before they were kicked off the A&M label is worth an estimated £12,000, while a special edition of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody backed with I’m In Love With My Car created for an EMI company event is valued at £5000. A pressing of Led Zeppelin’s self-titled 1969 debut album with the band’s name in turquoise can fetch up to £3000. LoveAntiques.com’s managing director Will Thomas says: “Vinyl is so on trend right now and highly collectible, so it doesn’t surprise me that some command seriously high prices. “It’s clear the vinyl records that are worth the most are the ones which have been owned by a celebrity or were made in limited numbers, as with most things, the rarer the item is the more valuable it is.” News editor for Classic Rock, Metal Hammer, Prog and Louder. He’s been at the news desk since 2014 and when not writing, he can be found watching baseball and visiting whisky distilleries. Classic Rock Newsletter. Sign up below to get the latest from Classic Rock, plus exclusive special offers, direct to your inbox! Thank you for signing up to Classic Rock. You will receive a verification email shortly. Imaginary Enemy. The sixth long-player from the shape-shifting, stalwart, Utah-bred punk rockers opens with a song called "Revolution" that houses the lyric "From now on I pledge allegiance to a world that's so much different/where no one suffers/everyone is free." It's an uplifting image, and one that Bert McCracken and company haven't always evoked, but more than a decade into their career, the Used have carved out their own unique niche in the crowded post-hardcore/screamo punk scene, and have earned the right to reflect on what they've been raging against since their 2002 debut. Working again with longtime producer John Feldman, Imaginary Enemy burns bright and fast, tearing through familiar (as in largely generic), classic anti-establishment punk themes with the subtlety of a mace to the face, but there's a wild, anything-goes spirit (and a genuine yearning for change) that guides much of the material, suggesting that the studio may have housed a sizeable window to accommodate the tossing out of the rule book. For every "Cry," "Generation Throwaway," and "El-Oh-Vee-Ee," all three of which are fist-pumping, largely traditional-sounding 21st century punk rallying cries that effectively utilize the Used instant-chorus generator, there's an "Evolution" or a "Song to Stifle Imperial Progression (A Work in Progress)," the former a dreamy, radio-ready power ballad and the latter a freak show mash-up of feral, Sunset Strip metal and Big Audio Dynamite-induced dance beats, and it's these aberrations that make Imaginary Enemy such a surprisingly fun ride, even as it's beating you over the head with cliches. The Canyon. Drawing dichotomous inspiration from happy childhood memories and the devastation following a friend's suicide, the Used explore mortality and the big picture on The Canyon, their seventh and most ambitious effort to date. Produced by Ross Robinson, this double album is bloody, raw, and unflinchingly personal, its impact made more effective by an unpolished, live feel achieved by recording directly to tape. Taking new artistic steps, the Used incorporate elements from prog-leaning bands like At the Drive-In and Coheed and Cambria, as well as dramatic rock outfits like Muse and My Chemical Romance. Nirvana also looms over much of the album, with lyrical references to "Negative Creep," "All Apologies," "On a Plain," and "Molly's Lips" scattered amongst the melodic hardcore assaults. Frontman Bert McCracken (credited as the more adult Rob in the liner notes) remains a force, his throttled-ragdoll howls wild as ever. Over 17 tracks, his emotional bloodletting is pure catharsis, purging pain and angst in typically visceral fashion. However, whereas earlier Used anthems captured a particularly youthful energy, on The Canyon, they embrace adulthood with a relatable and matured focus on life, loss, and even parenthood. Exposed nerves are immediately jolted on the lush acoustic opener "For You," a vulnerable ode to McCracken's late friend. From there, it's a breathless journey that requires time and patience. On the first part of the album, highlights include the catchy "Broken Windows," the raucous "Rise Up Lights" (a play on "razorblades"), which finds McCracken nearly rattling right off the proverbial rails, and the rhythmic groover "The Divine Absence (This Is Water)," an open road epic with a jam session feel that allows the raw emotion to naturally carry the band into the sunset as disc one concludes. The next half opens with the scathing "Selfies in Aleppo," a blistering stomper that bleeds straight into the prog-core of "Moving the Mountains (Odysseus Surrenders)." Their newfound muscular riff-assault peaks on "The Nexus," a powerful epic backed by a full choir. The band makes the most obvious artistic risks over much of this section, with a brief rap on "The Quiet War" juxtaposed by the tender "Moon-Dream," which features a lush string quartet and vocals by McCracken's daughter. However, it's standout single "Over and Over Again" that provides the biggest surprise. The poppiest song they've recorded to date, it's unapologetically catchy and fun without diluting the band's brand. Like the overall album experience, it's a litmus test that actually pays off. The Canyon meanders and searches, demanding full attention that can be frustrating and emotionally exhausting. But by the time they close with the epic "The Mouth of the Canyon," it's ultimately quite rewarding. After descending into the titular pit of emotion, doubt, and pain, the Used claw their way out, emerging stronger and more confident. As McCracken triumphantly declares on "The Nexus," "I know we're all the used, but not defeated." For a band that has evolved from screamo to such thoughtful artistry, The Canyon is a stunning offering. Heartwork. Following their emotionally draining 2017 epic The Canyon, American post-hardcore punk vets the Used get back to basics with their ferocious eighth set, Heartwork. The blistering LP manages to be both a spiritual throwback to their early-2000s albums while also marking yet another evolution in their style. Although the album could use a little trimming for maximum effect, there's a wealth of material here for fans of their peak- era, no-nonsense hardcore aggression, as well as loyal diehards who've stuck with them through the polished and daring genre explorations of their late era. Bursting right out of the gates with the explosive "Paradise Lost, a poem by John Milton," the band immediately links Heartwork to decades past, referencing an early single with the line "Yellow fades to blue." Fever 333's Jason Aalon Butler joins the melee on the savage "Blow Me," a riotous blast that features a skull-rattling breakdown at the close. That moment is later bested by "Wow, I Hate This Song," a churning rager that borders on deftones-style metal. Spirits of other groups also drift into Heartwork, notably Nirvana (on "Paradise Lost"), the Dear Hunter ("1984 - infinite jest"), and even Fall Out Boy/Panic! At the Disco, whose arena-friendly rock anthems find a kindred spirit with the stomping "BIG, WANNA BE." The album's midsection is the most rewarding stretch, home to the shimmering pop gem "Cathedral Bell" (a shock to the system in the same vein of The Canyon's "Over and Over Again"); the theatrical "1984 - infinite jest"; and the soaring anthem "Gravity's Rainbow," which includes the cathartic rallying cry "Walking with the fire/I make peace with the light." Heartwork's most polarizing moment arrives on "Clean Cut Hands," which takes the Used onto the dancefloor with a K-pop-meets-disco romp complete with handclaps, funky bass, and lilting falsetto. A trio of high-profile friends end the album on a high, starting with blink-182's Mark Hoppus, who injects a bit of bounce on "The Lighthouse." Meanwhile, Hoppus' bandmate, drummer Travis Barker, lends his signature delivery to the urgent "Obvious Blase," while Beartooth frontman Caleb Shomo joins Bert McCracken on visceral scream-off "The Lottery." There's so much going on here that Heartwork can be overwhelming upon first listen. However, given time, it ends up being one of the Used's catchiest, most direct and hard-hitting albums to date, one of those packed sets that sounds like a greatest-hits collection. After such a reflective and mournful era with The Canyon, it's refreshing to see this usually energetic group kick it back into high gear with such control, hunger, and ferocity.