'A total disaster': 11 albums rock's greatest bands just wish they could forget

'A total disaster': 11 albums rock's greatest bands just wish they could forget

Even the greatest artists stumble – or feel they did. Here are 11 albums their makers later dismissed, ignored, or outright disowned

Shepard Sherbell/Corbis via Getty Images


Even the greatest artists aren’t immune to regret.

For every landmark album that defines a career, there are others the musicians themselves would rather sweep under the rug. Sometimes it’s a product of the times: chasing trends that didn’t suit them, succumbing to label pressure, or drowning in the excesses of fame.

Other times it’s more personal – creative exhaustion, fractured relationships, or simply a sense that the spark was gone. The results can be fascinating in their own way, but to the artists, they often stand as reminders of missteps rather than triumphs.

Kraftwerk, for example, dismiss their early krautrock experiments as 'archaeology'. The Rolling Stones mocked their psychedelic detour as 'a disaster'. And Lou Reed? He didn’t mince words when he called Sally Can’t Dance 'a piece of sh**'.

Yet these records tell their own story. They reveal the pressures of reinvention, the pitfalls of success, and the human side of genius. Here are 11 albums their creators have distanced themselves from – sometimes with embarrassment, sometimes with venom, but always with a fascinating honesty.

1. The Byrds: Byrdmaniax (1971)

A case where it all went wrong in the production studio. After the band finished recording, producer Terry Melcher added massive orchestral overdubs, brass, and gospel choirs without the band's consent. When the members finally heard the finished product, they were horrified. Roger McGuinn famously called it a 'Melcher-maniax' record rather than a Byrds record, and the band’s reputation took a hit from which the 70s iteration never truly recovered.

Have a listen to 'Glory, Glory', the track where Melcher's post-production is at its most conspicuous: sweeping strings, brass flourishes and a large gospel choir transform what began as a relatively straightforward arrangement into something grandiose.


2. Van Halen: Van Halen III (1998)

Michael Anthony, Gary Cherone and Eddie Van Halen performing at Shoreline Amphitheater, Mountain View, California, July 5th, 1998
Michael Anthony, Gary Cherone and Eddie Van Halen performing at Shoreline Amphitheater, Mountain View, California, July 5th, 1998

Van Halen's eleventh LP remains the ultimate black sheep of the band’s catalogue – a record where every creative decision seemed to pull them further from what made Van Halen Van Halen. Eddie took near‑total control, even handling most of the bass parts, and the result is a strangely airless, muddy‑sounding album that lacks the band’s trademark spark.

Songs like ‘Without You’ feel oddly flat despite their length, while ‘Fire in the Hole’ buries potentially strong riffs under murky production and lifeless pacing. Cherone does his best, but the material rarely gives him anything to work with. It’s the only Van Halen album not to go platinum, and the band effectively erased it from their history – never performing a single track once Cherone left.


3. Bob Dylan: Self Portrait (1970)

Bob Dylan with his wife Sara, Los Angeles, 1970
Bob Dylan with his wife Sara, Los Angeles, 1970

Self Portrait was famously greeted with critic Greil Marcus’s immortal opening line – 'What is this sh**?' – and it’s hard to blame him. The album is a baffling patchwork of covers, instrumentals and eccentric detours that feel deliberately alienating. Dylan buries his voice under syrupy backing vocals on ‘Blue Moon’, turns ‘The Boxer’ into a strangely lifeless self‑duet, and pads the running time with throwaway instrumentals like ‘Woogie Boogie’.

The production is often muddy and oddly anonymous, stripping away the bite and clarity that defined his ’60s work. Dylan later admitted it was partly an act of self‑sabotage – a way to dismantle the myth that had grown around him. For decades he dismissed it as a joke, until Bootleg Series Vol. 10: Another Self Portrait revealed that, buried in the rubble, there were moments of genuine artistry he’d obscured on purpose.


4. Yes: Union (1991)

So much Yes, 1991. L-R: Chris Squire, Tony Kaye, Rick Wakeman, Alan White, Jon Anderson, Trevor Rabin, Bill Bruford, Steve Howe

Rick Wakeman famously nicknamed it 'Onion' because it made him cry whenever he heard it. 1991's Union was supposed to unite two rival versions of Yes, but instead became one of the most notoriously troubled albums in prog rock history. What should have been a dream line-up instead descended into a production nightmare, with extensive use of session musicians and layers of what Wakeman dismissed as "musical padding".

Both Wakeman and Steve Howe have been scathing about the finished record, with Howe noting that it bore little resemblance to what the band had actually recorded. Compared with the elegant ambition and musical chemistry of early-'70s masterpieces such as Fragile and Close to the Edge (both 1972), Union sounded less like Yes at their peak than a committee trying to imitate them.

So, we ranked the 33 greatest prog rock albums of all time (No. 7 contains just one song)


5. The Rolling Stones: Their Satanic Majesties Request (1967)

The Rolling Stones in psychedelic mode (and looking, frankly, less than convinced with it) during the Satanic Majesties sessions, 1967. From left to right: Brian Jones, Bill Wyman, Charlie Watts, Keith Richards, and Mick Jagger
The Stones in psychedelic mode (and looking, frankly, less than convinced with it) during the Satanic Majesties sessions. From left to right: Brian Jones, Bill Wyman, Charlie Watts, Keith Richards, and Mick Jagger

The Rolling Stones' attempt to embrace psychedelia has never quite shaken the accusation that it was their answer to Sgt. Pepper. Rich in studio effects but short on the swagger that made the band great, it remains one of the few Stones albums its creators have openly criticised. Mick Jagger later called it "a bit of a disaster"; Keith Richards was even less charitable, dismissing it as "a load of crap".

In hindsight, it stands as a fascinating curio, showing what happened when rock's greatest blues band briefly lost sight of what made them unique. We'll always love 'She's a Rainbow', though.


6. David Bowie: Never Let Me Down (1987)

David Bowie performing at Giant Stadium at the Meadowlands in East Rutherford, New Jersey on August 3, 1987
No, we're not sure what's going on here, either. David Bowie performing at Giant Stadium at the Meadowlands in East Rutherford, New Jersey on August 3, 1987

Even Bowie had off days. By his own admission, Never Let Me Down was the nadir of his ’80s output, weighed down by sterile production, glossy arrangements and an over-reliance on the commercial instincts that had made his mid-’80s work so successful. The songs were often strong beneath the surface, but Bowie later felt that the production had buried their character beneath layers of dated synths and overblown studio polish.

His dissatisfaction was so profound that he eventually did something almost unprecedented: in 2018, more than 30 years after its release, he effectively rebuilt the album. Working with musicians including guitarist Reeves Gabrels, Bowie’s vocals were retained but much of the original instrumentation was replaced, creating the record he said he had wished he’d made in the first place.

It’s a remarkable posthumous admission of defeat from an artist who had spent his career turning artistic missteps into new directions.


7. Lou Reed: Sally Can’t Dance (1974)

Lou Reed’s highest-charting solo album, Sally Can’t Dance (1974), ironically became one he later disowned. It reached No. 10 on the US Billboard 200, his best commercial performance, but was made under heavy RCA label pressure to deliver something more accessible after the bleak ambition of Berlin.

Reed dismissed the record as lifeless, later calling it “a piece of sh** from beginning to end.” Stylistically, it leaned toward safer, more conventional glam-rock arrangements compared with his more experimental work. Coming between Berlin and the abrasive Metal Machine Music, it stands as his most overt attempt at commercial compromise record here.

Confession: we actually have a bit of a soft spot for it. But by no yardstick is it peak Reed.


8. Neil Young: Landing on Water (1986)

Neil Young at the Poplar Creek Music Theater, Hoffman Estates, Illinois, August 15, 1986
Neil Young at the Poplar Creek Music Theater, Hoffman Estates, Illinois, August 15, 1986

Neil Young’s ’80s experiments were divisive, from the vocoder-driven futurism of Trans (1982) to the retro rockabilly pastiche of Everybody’s Rockin’ (1983). Both records baffled listeners at the time, yet have since been reappraised for their eccentric charm and flashes of invention. Landing on Water (1986), however, has proven harder to redeem.

Born of label disputes and Young’s restless need to push forward, it buried his songwriting beneath brittle, synthetic production and clattering drum machines. Fans long accustomed to his raw immediacy felt alienated, while critics were left cold. Even Young himself later admitted it wasn’t his finest hour. Still, true to form, he defended his right to make it, seeing even failure as part of his creative freedom.


9. Led Zeppelin: In Through the Out Door (1979)

Jimmy Page and Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin, 1980
Jimmy Page and Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin, 1980

Often regarded as the most divisive entry in their catalogue, In Through the Out Door signalled a fundamental shift in Led Zeppelin's internal power dynamic. With Jimmy Page and John Bonham struggling heavily with heroin and alcohol addiction, the creative reins were handed to John Paul Jones and Robert Plant. The result was a synth-heavy, pop-leaning record that traded heavy riffs for textures like the samba-infused 'Fool in the Rain'.

While a commercial success, Page later expressed deep dissatisfaction, calling the album 'a little soft' and lacking the band's signature 'edge'. He and Bonham had reportedly already planned a much 'harder', guitar-driven follow-up to reclaim their rock throne, but Bonham’s untimely death in 1980 turned this experimental departure into their final studio statement.


10. Fleetwood Mac: Time (1995)

Mick Fleetwood (left) and John McVie at BB Kings in Hollywood, October 11, 1994
Mick Fleetwood (left) and John McVie at BB Kings in Hollywood, October 11, 1994

The only Fleetwood Mac album to feature neither Lindsey Buckingham nor Stevie Nicks, Time is the 'forgotten' chapter. Christine McVie only participated because of contractual pressure, and the result was a soft-rock identity crisis.

Time was a commercial disaster that Mick Fleetwood later admitted was a 'murky mess', stating the band should have simply changed their name for that project. It remains the only studio album completely ignored in their modern retrospectives and 'best-of' tours.

The 7 Fleetwood Mac albums you should definitely own


11. Pink Floyd: Ummagumma (1969)

A story of two halves. The live half of Pink Floyd's fourth album contains some of the best versions of early space-rock epics such as 'A Saucerful of Secrets' and 'Careful With That Axe, Eugene'. But Ummagumma's studio half is a fragmented experiment that Pink Floyd quickly grew to regret.

Tasked with creating individual solo pieces, the band members struggled to produce cohesive material without a collective vision. David Gilmour later dismissed his contributions as 'horrible', while Roger Waters called the project a 'total disaster'. By the mid-70s, the band had largely distanced themselves from its avant-garde indulgence, viewing it as a creative dead end.

So, we ranked all 15 Pink Floyd albums. And there's definitely a 'magic run' in there

Here's Gilmour's 'The Narrow Way, Pt 1'. See what you think:


Nine more albums bands don't like looking back on

12. The Who: It's Hard (1982)

The Who 1982
From left to right, Kenney Jones, Roger Daltrey, Pete Townshend and John Entwistle of the Who in New York for a concert, October 1982

It’s Hard (1982) marked the end of The Who’s original studio journey with bassist John Entwistle, and it shows. The album carries the sound of a band running on fumes, going through the motions rather than pushing forward. Pete Townshend (far left, above) was battling addiction and profound doubts about the group’s future, and his ambivalence bleeds through the music.

While not without solid performances ('Eminence Front', below, is admittedly a banger), the record lacks the urgency and fire of earlier triumphs. Townshend later admitted it was uninspired, the work of obligation rather than passion. For nearly 25 years, this weary farewell stood as The Who’s studio swan song.

John Entwistle made one of the greatest bassist solo albums of all time


13. The Clash: Cut the Crap (1985)

Paul Simonon and Joe Strummer of The Clash, 1984
Joe Strummer (R) and a slightly wistful-looking Paul Simonon of The Clash, 1984

Following the acrimonious firing of Mick Jones, Joe Strummer attempted to reclaim the band’s punk roots but became entangled in muddy, synth-heavy production. The result was a creative identity crisis that felt more like a demo than a Clash record. Strummer later admitted it was a mistake, and for decades, the band’s official retrospectives acted as if the album – and the 'Clash II' lineup – simply never existed.


14. Radiohead: Pablo Honey (1993)

Radiohead 1993
Radiohead (from left), singer/guitarist Ed O'Brien, guitarist Jonny Greenwood, lead singer Thom Yorke, bassist Colin Greenwood and drummer Phil Selway pose for a 1993 portrait in New York City

It effectively launched their career with the iconic single 'Creep' – but Radiohead have long been dismissive of their debut. Thom Yorke once called 'Creep' 'crap', and the band avoided playing much of the album live. Compared to the groundbreaking ambition of OK Computer or Kid A, Pablo Honey feels tentative and derivative. For Radiohead, it’s the awkward teenage photo they’d prefer to hide in the attic.


15. George Harrison: Gone Troppo (1982)

George Harrison 1982
George Harrison being interviewed in Australia, May 1982. The guitarist was building a recording studio underneath his home on picturesque Hamilton Island

By 1982, George Harrison was more interested in gardening and Formula 1 than the music business. Gone Troppo was a contractual obligation he barely bothered to promote. The breezy, synthesized pop felt aimless, and Harrison later described himself as being out of step with the industry's demands. He effectively vanished from the music scene for five years afterward, treating the album as a footnote to his disillusionment.


16. R.E.M.: Around the Sun (2004)

Michael Stipe of R.E.M. has a laugh with Jay Leno while Peter Buck and Mike Mills look on, October 28, 200
Michael Stipe has a laugh with Jay Leno while Peter Buck and Mike Mills look on, October 28, 200

By their own admission, R.E.M. were exhausted and uninspired when making Around the Sun. The songs are flat, the production sluggish, and the band sounded disconnected. Peter Buck later said he never wanted to play anything from it live again. For a group once hailed as America’s greatest alternative band, this mid-2000s stumble became a symbol of how even legends can sound listless.



17. Queen: Hot Space (1982)

Inspired by the club scene, Queen pivoted to lean, synth-driven funk – a move that baffled their guitar-loving audience. While it produced the iconic 'Under Pressure', the rest of the album was met with hostility. Brian May has been candid about his frustration during the sessions, noting that the band’s democratic process led them down a path that sacrificed their signature heavy sound for a trend that didn't fit.

We’ve ranked all 15 of Queen’s albums – the number one spot is hotly contested


18. Black Sabbath: Technical Ecstasy (1976)

Tony Iommi of Black Sabbath performs on stage at Hammersmith Odeon, London, January 1976
Tony Iommi of Black Sabbath performs on stage at Hammersmith Odeon, London, January 1976

Recorded while Black Sabbath was fracturing under the weight of legal battles and substance abuse, this album saw Tony Iommi steering the group toward a more complex, experimental sound. While not fully disowned, it’s often recalled as a period of creative exhaustion. Drummer Bill Ward has noted it lacked the darkness of their early work, and the shift toward synthesizers and strings left the 'Godfathers of Metal' feeling unrecognizable.


19. King Crimson: Lizard (1970)

Robert Fripp has a complicated relationship with his back catalogue, but he was particularly critical of King Crimson's third album for decades. He once described it as 'unlistenable' and 'unrefined', citing the lack of a cohesive band unit at the time (the lineup fell apart shortly after). While Fripp eventually 'forgave' the album during the remixing process in 2009, for 40 years he regarded it as a failed experiment.

Lovely cover, though.

King Crimson albums ranked: 13 fearless LPs, from worst to best


20. Kraftwerk: Kraftwerk (1970) / Kraftwerk 2 (1972)

Long before Autobahn made them pioneers of electronic music, Kraftwerk dabbled in experimental krautrock jams complete with flutes, organs, and live drumming. Ralf Hütter and Florian Schneider have since distanced themselves from these embryonic records, calling them part of the group’s 'archaeology'. Neither has been reissued as part of Kraftwerk’s official Catalogue, leaving them in a strange limbo: adored by collectors, but disowned by the band that made them.


21. Pantera – Metal Magic (1983) through Power Metal (1988)

Pantera Metal Magic
Pic: YouTube

Before they became the 'Cowboys from Hell', Pantera spent the 80s as a flamboyant glam-metal outfit in Texas. Across four albums (Metal Magic, Projects in the Jungle, I Am the Night, and Power Metal) the band leaned into spandex, hairspray, and Kiss-inspired hard rock. Once they discovered their signature 'groove metal' sound with 1990’s Cowboys from Hell, they effectively scrubbed their past from existence.

These records are never reissued, they aren't on streaming services, and they are omitted from official histories. To the band, the 'real' Pantera didn't exist until Vinnie Paul, Dimebag Darrell, and Rex Brown found their heavy, aggressive core with Phil Anselmo. They view these early recordings as "juvenile" artifacts of a band still searching for an identity.

Artist pics Getty Images

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