You've probably heard this old saw before, but allow us to paraphrase it once more: it's all about the song. Sure, we're gear-centric in our worldview, and we believe every musician should know their gear and every recording enthusiast should strive to learn as much as they can about bedrock recording techniques, but a perfectly-compressed snare does not a hit record make.

Folks like Jack White (White Stripes, Raconteurs) and Nathan Williams (Wavves) have made a point of eschewing glossy production in the service of the song, but "lo-fi" isn't always an aesthetic choice. Some classic albums just sound bad, but they've made their way into the popular cannon by virtue of great writing, great performances, or (usually) both.

Here then is a compilation of seven classic albums that, by all technical rights, are not good. And yet. . .

Ten - Pearl Jam (1991)
So it made them — and Seattle — famous. So what. This album sounds completely of its time, all faux-epic reverb and chorused vocals. Producer Rick Parasher and mix engineer Tim Palmer crafted, in a short amount of time, an album that fit perfectly into heavy radio rotation of the day. But a recent re-mix by Brendan O'Brien (who would go on to produce the majority of the band's subsequent studio albums) reveals why Pearl Jam became the biggest band in the world in the early 90s: the band themselves. They'd go on the write much better songs, but stripped of their over-production these tracks course with adrenaline and heretofore obscured instrumental intricacy. Nearly twenty years on, Ten is still an exciting listen.

Raw Power - The Stooges (1973)
Raw Power is one of the most visceral and accurate titles for an album ever conceived. Unfortunately raw talent doesn't go quite as far in the studio. The Stooges were a mess when they set to work on their third album, and by the time it came to record, the band had officially broken up. For some reason Iggy had taken it upon himself to produce, engineer, and mix the album himself. Unfortuentely he knew nothing about engineering and out of well-meaning ignorance ended up making some strange mix decisions — like panning the band into the left channel and the vocals into the right. Lucky for Iggy he had a friend and champion in David Bowie, who remixed the majority of the album in a day. Bowie did what he could but the result still sounds like the rush job that it was. Not that that could dilute the raw power of the Stooges.

Infinite - Eminem (1996)
The casual fan probably identifies 1999's The Slim Shady LP as Eminem's debut, but Infinite was the recording that launched his career and brought him critical and industry attention. This despite the inane, faux-Gangsta backing track production. It's not even "bad" production, necessarily; the record just comes off sounding like an insincere cop of the West Coast sound. Not that a little thing like bad beats could detract from the performance of Mr. Mathers. Lucky for everyone Em's chops as an emcee won him the chance to record his next full-length with the guy who put the West Coast sound on the map: Andre Romelle Young (a.k.a. the good doctor Dre).

Loveless - My Bloody Valentine (1991)
The nightmare that was bringing this album to fruition is the stuff of legends, out-shined in the rock world perhaps only by Chinese Democracy's seventeen-year gestation. M.B.V. lead singer and guitarist Kevin Shields had an idea in his head of how this album should sound and he wasn't going to let anyone tell him how to get it, least of all a professional recording engineer. Story goes he wouldn't even let engineers mic up amps, and one anecdote describes vocal sessions with singer Bilinda Butcher where the two put up curtains between the booth and the control room and the engineers told not to even listen to the takes as they were being tracked — they had to watch the meters to know when to stop the tape. After a reported nineteen different studios and nearly all the cash their label, Creation, had on hand, the album was finally deemed finished. The end result was a recording with unintelligible lyrics, drums that sound like they were pasted from another record, and guitars that sound like. . . not guitars at all. For better or worse, it sounds like nothing else (probably for better, as it's repeated cited as influential by countless bands who've recorded since).

Oh, Inverted World - The Shins (2001)
One of the stranger-sounding debut albums of the early 2000s, Oh, Inverted World sounds even weirder in comparison to its follow-up, the pristine (if still psychedlic) Chutes Too Narrow. Lead singer James Mercer produced both albums, but the former was recorded in his home studio, with minimal outside guidance, and during a time he admits he had "no idea" what he was doing. The Shins started off life as Flake, but Mercer's desire to get away from guitar-centric music prompted a name and instrumentation change. And the album's production shows it. Awash in layers of synthesizer and double-tracked vocals, with bass and drums nearly drowned out on most tracks, O.I.W. sounds like a half-remembered dream. But thanks to its melodic genius and Mercer's impossibly-tenor range, it's a dream you and Natalie Portman can't stop thinking about.

Less Talk, More Rock - Propagandhi (1993)
The second album from Canada's greatest vegan anarchist thrash punks may not be as well known as some of the other albums on this list, but it's still undeniably great. What's strange is how cheap it sounds when compared to their debut, the no-budget (and also excellent) How To Clean Everything. For their sophomore effort Propagandhi worked with producer Ryan Greene, go-to-guy for the band's label Fat Wreck Chords and former Chief Engineer at EMI Music Publishing. Which makes the album's sonic shortcomings even stranger. The vocals are pulled way too far back in the mix and the guitars sound at once overly loud and thin. The bass sounds even worse — all pick-attack and fret buzz — and in concert with the whip-crack trebly kick drum, the rhythm section sounds like a few union laborers moving rebar around. Still, there's no denying the lasting appeal of an album with songs titles like "Apparently, I'm a "P.C. Fascist" (Because I Care About Both Human and Non-Human Animals)" and "The Only Good Fascist Is a Very Dead Fascist."

Hi, How Are You - Daniel Johnston
Perhaps the ultimate in lo-fi recording artists, Daniel Johnston's DIY audio aesthetic may not inspire any would-be Nigel Godriches but his songwriting has been championed by the likes of Kurt Cobain, Lou Barlow, Tom Waits, Eddie Vedder, and Connor Oberst. And though Johnston may not be a household name, his adherents are fervent, and what attention his work has garnered is all the more impressive given that this self-produced album makes cassette answering machine messages sound audiophile. Which makes sense, since Johnston recorded his early material on boom-boxes. Still, attention to songwriting is apparent, and underscored by the fact that Johnston has a nervous breakdown while recording Hi, How Are You. As a result, he subtitled the release The Unfinished Album.

Honorable Mentions:

• In The Aeroplane Over The Sea - Neutral Milk Hotel
• Killing Is My Business... and Business Is Good! - Megadeth
• Wowee Zowee - Pavement
• Both Sides of the Brain - Del Tha Funkee Homosapien