A bright-eyed ruffian: This is an important album. Get over the VMA blunder and press controversy. You won't admit that it's a masterpiece because Yeezy can be an ass. MBDTF got a 10 on Pitchfork, and sad-sacks like you eat that stuff for breakfast.

A Robert Christgau-type: Actually, the music is my issue. Kanye’s not a great guy, but neither are a lot of my favourite artists, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.

In recent years, I’ve found myself reaching for virtually every other first-wave post-punk record before this one. Don’t get me wrong: This is a tough classic to tackle because, like a lot of insecure, privileged, weedy white kids, it was once a major source of solace for me. I maintain that “Disorder” is an essential album opener, and “She’s Lost Control” a poignant discourse on total collapse.

A great album should sound like a great album. Cultural significance and “back in my day” justifications don’t equate with eternal musical merit. Plenty of "classic" records resonate in 2016, and though some might sound dated—whether this adheres to musical style, production, lyrical content, or a slew of sonic motifs—they possess creative endurance and craftsmanship that have defied time.