I grew up with a stack of old records in a milk crate. Some were scratched. Some smelled like dust and sweet paper. I’d clean them with a soft cloth and hold my breath as the needle set down. You know what? Those songs still light up my kitchen.
If you ever want to see how the memories here grew into a longer love letter, you can peek at The Best 70s Bands From My Ears, My Life—it’s the full scrapbook that kicked off this list.
If you want sleeve scans, chart trivia, and other rabbit holes from the decade, cruise over to Super70s before you drop the needle again.
This isn’t a strict rank. It’s my heart, my notes, and a few small gripes from long nights with loud speakers.
Led Zeppelin — big, bold, a little messy
My first copy of IV had a coffee ring on it. “When the Levee Breaks” sounded like thunder in my small room. John Bonham felt like a giant knocking on the floor.
- What I love: riffs that punch; drums that feel alive.
- What bugs me: some solos run long; lyrics get weird and vague.
Fleetwood Mac — drama you can hum
“Rumours” lived on my mom’s shelf. We’d sing “Dreams” while making grilled cheese. One summer, I played “The Chain” so much the neighbors knew the bass line.
- What I love: clean songs; rich voices; talk-sung pain.
- What bugs me: “Tusk” gets odd; not every track sticks.
Pink Floyd — long, dark, and kind of cozy
In high school, I played “Wish You Were Here” on cheap headphones. The air felt thick. “The Wall” was a whole mood—brick by brick, I fell in.
- What I love: spacey sounds; great album flow; slow burn payoffs.
- What bugs me: songs can drag; it’s not party music.
Queen — theater for your car
We belted “Bohemian Rhapsody” on a midnight drive once. Windows down. All off-key. Freddie made it feel fine. “Don’t Stop Me Now” still fixes a dull day.
- What I love: big hooks; wild drama; pure joy.
- What bugs me: some tracks feel campy; sugar high vibe.
ABBA — shine, sparkle, and smart
We played “Dancing Queen” at my cousin’s wedding. The cake leans in the photos, but no one cared. “Knowing Me, Knowing You” still cuts deep if you listen close.
- What I love: perfect hooks; tight craft; sneaky sad lines.
- What bugs me: too sweet for some; heavy gloss.
Long before dating apps, the dance floor—or the back page of a newspaper—was where new crushes started. If the idea of flipping through modern personal ads appeals, the updated Craigslist Women Seeking Men personals gather local listings in one neat spot, helping you meet someone who digs a 70s playlist as much as you do.
Spinning “Dancing Queen” in a Hoosier living room? The revived Backpage Kokomo classified board organizes local meet-ups, casual dates, and event postings so you can find another vinyl lover before the next chorus kicks in.
The Eagles — smooth roads, long shadows
“Hotel California” hit me on a late fall drive. The twin guitars felt like warm lights on a cold night. “Take It Easy” still smells like dust and gas stations.
- What I love: clean parts; calm groove; road-trip gold.
- What bugs me: can feel smug; some tracks blend together.
If your ears lean even further toward the twang of the decade, you might like my month-long deep dive with the Country Stars of the 70s—it’s full of campfire strums and bar-room stories.
The Clash — louder than the news
London Calling shook my desk the first time. Punk, but with brains. “Train in Vain” stuck to me for weeks.
- What I love: punchy beats; tight words; wide range.
- What bugs me: not every mix is clean; some shouty edges.
Ramones — short, fast, true
I use their songs when I clean my kitchen. Two minutes. Done. “Blitzkrieg Bop” turns chores into a tiny show.
- What I love: speed; simple joy; no fluff.
- What bugs me: songs can feel samey; thin sound at times.
Black Sabbath — heavy like wet boots
“Paranoid” made my old speakers shake. Tony’s riffs stomp. Ozzy floats like a ghost over it all.
- What I love: big riffs; dark mood; steady groove.
- What bugs me: muddy mixes; slower tracks can sag.
Earth, Wind & Fire — horns that grin
“September” is my go-to for a blah day. I saw them live once, and the horns felt like sunlight. People of all ages danced. Even the shy ones.
- What I love: tight band; bright horns; happy kick.
- What bugs me: some ballads get syrupy.
I spent more time soaking up voices like theirs in my month with Black singers from the 70s—the groove, the grit, the gold falsettos are all in there.
Talking Heads — art class with a beat
“Psycho Killer” was my weird phase song. David Byrne sounds nervous and brave at the same time. I like that.
- What I love: smart lines; sharp grooves; cool bass.
- What bugs me: quirky on purpose; not always warm.
Lynyrd Skynyrd — bar stool stories
“Simple Man” hits like plain truth. “Free Bird” live? It’s long, but when that solo lifts, folks lean in.
- What I love: guitar work; heart-on-sleeve feel.
- What bugs me: jams run long; some lyrics age rough.
If heart-aching harmonies are more your comfort blanket, you may enjoy my take on the female country singers of the 70s—it’s all porch-light warmth and steel-guitar sighs.
Bee Gees — falsetto and mirror balls
Disco gets heat, but “Stayin’ Alive” struts for a reason. Those harmonies stack like glass.
- What I love: sharp grooves; smooth blend; catchy as heck.
- What bugs me: the falsetto can tire the ear.
Yes — the big, shiny puzzle
“Roundabout” pulled me in with that bass line. Then it spun me around the room. It’s like music math, but fun.
- What I love: wild skill; bright sound; soaring parts.
- What bugs me: long songs; lyrics feel like word soup.
Small detours that matter
- Vinyl care helps. A soft brush. A light touch.
- Cheap speakers make good bands feel flat. If you can, try decent headphones. It’s like wiping fog off a window.
- Mixes change your mood. “Go Your Own Way” for runs; “Us and Them” for rain; “September” for cleaning day.
Wait, no love for Bowie?
I know—Bowie’s huge. He’s my favorite solo act from that era, but I kept this to bands. If you twist my arm, “Heroes” wins on a cold morning with hot coffee.
So, who’s “best”?
Here’s the thing: the “best” band is the one that fits your day. Need storm clouds? Pink Floyd. Need sun? Earth, Wind & Fire. Need to shout? The Clash. Need a hug you can dance to? ABBA.
I still pull that milk crate from under the shelf. The sleeves are worn. The corners bend. The songs? They still stand up straight. And when the needle drops, it all comes back—friends, drives, kitchens, nights, and that good kind of loud.