Top 10 Musicians Who Ruined Their Careers With One Album

Sometimes, all it takes is a bad review. Or several, in the case of our first entry, Public Enemy's "Muse Sick-n-Hour Mess-Age." Savage critiques from both Rolling Stone and The Source hampered the pre-release buzz of this fifth album from some of hip hop's preeminent elder statesmen, resulting in severe sales drops and fan backlash. The sentiment at the time was that Public Enemy seemed to be out of touch with the musical world they helped pioneer, as some of the rhymes attacked the then-popular genre of gangsta rap. To be fair, not all of the reviews were bad, and "Muse Sick-n-Hour Mess-Age" is well regarded by some fans of the group today, but yeah..."Fear of a Black Planet" this album was NOT.

There's one sure-fire way to ruin a musical career, and it's distancing yourself from what made you famous in the first place. This is a theme we're going to be revisiting a number of times here on our list, starting with Madonna's infamous 2003 album, "American Life." The album is heavily removed — sonically and conceptually disconnected — from the polished pop sound that drove Madonna Madness in the eighties and nineties. Although her previous albums "Music" and "Ray of Light" both featured experiments that were musically different from her past, the Madonna who raps on "American Life" didn't sound like the Material Girl or the provocateur found on "Erotica." She sounded out of touch.

What do you do years after creating one of the most acclaimed debuts of all time? You reach for the pop world's brass ring, of course. That's what indie rocker Liz Phair tried to do with her self-titled fourth album. Phair's "Exile in Guyville" debut was an underground hit, thanks to its catchiness and confessional, authentic lyrics, but then Phair was convinced by her record company to work with pop songwriting team The Matrix. This collaboration resulted in a sound that was much more polished, and the backlash to this material was swift and brutal. Although the album was defended by prominent critic Robert Christgau, Pitchfork gave it a zero out of ten, while the New York Times' Meghan O'Rourke even called the album "career suicide." Ouch.

There's something about the unplugged setting that exposes everything about an artist's music, from its innermost genius to its most severe flaws. Lauryn Hill found the latter out first hand when she brought a collection of unfinished and unfocused new material to the recording of her "MTV Unplugged No. 2.0" session. Hill had been riding high from solo album success, not to mention her work with The Fugees, but personal issues began to affect her creative side at the time in a big way. Hill's voice here is almost completely shot, and her acoustic guitar skills seemingly non-existent as she clumsily strums along to songs she often has to start multiple times, due to her lack of focus. It's the worst kind of musical train wreck from an artist who honestly deserved better.

Sometimes, a band has a clear leader, while other times it's clearly more about the sum of its parts. The Clash's Joe Strummer thought he could soldier on after firing co-founder Mick Jones and drummer Topper Headon, but bad management decisions and a desire to latch on to 1980s trends of the day eventually led to disaster. "Cut the Crap" almost never enters into any fan discussion about The Clash, and with good reason, as the album is more the brainchild of manager/producer Bernie Rhodes than any sort of cohesive post-punk statement. Dissonant production, harsh synthesizer sounds and ham fisted drum machine programming derail any decent song ideas Strummer had for "Cut the Crap," which effectively ended the band.

The adversarial relationship of the Gallagher Brothers is inescapable common knowledge at this point, but there's generally something to be said about keeping it together for the sake of mutual success. Or not. Sadly, the tensions between Noel and Liam really came to a head during the recording sessions for "Be Here Now." The album is bloated and self-indulgent, the sound of a bickering group, laden with bad drug problems and a lack of strong ideas, at the height of their broad success. While the psychedelic Brit-pop vibe present on their greatest hits is still there on "Be Here Now," the lack of restrained arrangements, smart lyrics or engaging vocals resulted in the album being relegated largely to the used bin.

What do you think of when you imagine a massive, early-’80s outdoor rock concert? Screaming fans, loud guitars and...a short film presentation? Needless to say, this did NOT go over well when Styx brought their overblown rock opera, "Kilroy Was Here" to outdoor arenas, after initially debuting it in small venues. The album was the last Styx album to go platinum and the final hurrah for the lineup that first won over arena rock fans with songs like "Renegade" and "Blue Collar Man." These same working class fans didn't exactly appreciate the over-reliance on keyboards and balladry with "Kilroy," however, nor the accompanying movie that aired on screens throughout the tour. Sure, the album did bring "Mr. Roboto" to the masses, but is that really a good thing?

Van Halen were on their third singer when they recorded "Van Halen III," replacing Sammy Hagar with former Extreme frontman Gary Cherone. This isn't actually a bad choice on paper. as Cherone is a fine vocalist, but the resulting album did little to showcase that fact. The songwriting ranged from puzzling to simply painful, with tunes that were needlessly long, and that showcased little of the fire that categorized Van Halen's early days. Meanwhile, the decision to have Eddie Van Halen himself sing an awkward piano ballad couldn't have been made by anyone with a working pair of ears. The band didn't return with a new album for almost fifteen years, and when they did, it was with founding frontman David Lee Roth back in the saddle.


Before we name our number one pick, here are a few dishonorable mentions!

Billy Idol
"Cyberpunk" (1993)



Creedence Clearwater Revival
"Mardi Gras" (1972)


Hammer
"The Funky Headhunter" (1994)

Not every "confessional" album is a home run. Case in point? The disastrous "Paula" from 2014, an attempt by Robin Thicke at not only rekindling a romance with his estranged wife Paula Patton, but to market that attempt for commercial gain as some sort of concept album. Although the record's attempts at neo-soul are strong at times, Thicke's personal bad boy behavior in the tabloids had largely killed any goodwill for the artist prior to its release. And this isn't even mentioning the similar controversy that emerged with the sexual politics behind his hit "Blurred Lines." "Paula" became even more notable for its disastrous sales figures in countries like Australia, Canada and the U.K. with some numbers totaling less than two hundred units during its first week. Yikes.