20. Morcheeba, Who Can You Trust? (Discovery, 1996)

Yes, that's a pot plant on the cover (as if the silly band name didn't already tip you off). Actually, it never occurred to me to listen to this album while intoxicated--the grooves and flow are already there, no matter what you bring to it. The title could've come from some altered-state paranoia, but not the music. As trip-hop collectives went, these guys were almost the anti-Massive Attack--as moody as the rest of their peers, but far hazier and mellower. Apart from the beatless, orchestral interlude "Col", everything pretty much sounds the same and, in this case, that's an advantage. This is a chill-out album with hooks (languorous and sneaky as they may be), plus Skye Edwards' smoky, sultry vocals are vital signs rather than chilly detachments. Every album Morcheeba has put out since is a shade more upbeat and varied, thus less consistent, but who cares when they have one in your catalogue as complete and unerring as this?