A teenage girl is caught petting with the bus driver during an outing. The school's parent council discusses her punishment. One parent, a psychologist, suggests that her behavior is not abnormal or worthy of expulsion.

He describes teen girls' experiments with sex, and these dramatized vignettes, interspersed with man-in-the-street interviews with young women about their attitudes and experiences, make a case for 60's generation's attitude of independence. The girls argue for telling the truth in the face of post-war German convention. In the end, will Renata be expelled or recognized as a girl from a new era? After the big success of the first part the film-makers apparently felt pressured to launch a new 'investigation' and gather new material. Therefore, Friedrich von Thun again ventures out into the streets, this time of Berlin, to ask schoolgirls about their sexual experiences. The invinted guests talk about (allegedly) true events.

Schoolgirls that seduce their teachers, runaway girls that have been robbed and who have to prostitute themselves or innocent girls that have been drugged and raped.

There’s no more appropriate way to kick this list off than with a record from Brian Eno, an artist within only a couple of degrees of separation from upwards of one-quarter of this list. Before and After Science, however, could be seen as an odd choice: Not formally groundbreaking, it’s frequently overlooked when discussing great albums from an era that’s romanticized as placing premiums on progression and innovation—and particularly in the context of Eno’s career, which is so full of both. But it’s a lovely, charming album from the dadaist jaunt of “Backwater” to its tranquil second side, whose mood and texture seems to tear a page from Eno’s 1977-78 David Bowie Album Construction Playbook, yet rectifies the divide between his pop and ambient impulses. –Scott PlagenhoefListen. After the gold rush of 1960s California rock, most of its main players spent the ’70s slowly hippie-twirling towards irrelevance and rehab resorts. Not so for Mr. Young, who was just hitting his stride as the decade turned over, kicking off a run of 11 great albums in 10 years with After the Gold Rush.

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One of his few efforts that can’t be considered either the product of Crazy Horse feedback Neil or sensitive-hayseed Neil, Gold Rush is also one of Young’s most consistent records. Holed up in his Topanga Canyon home writing a soundtrack for a never-made Dean Stockwell–scripted film, Young invited his friends to join him on alien-abduction ballads, preachy Skynyrd-provoking jams, and lovesick nocturnal country-blues.

Unlike so many of his sun-dazed contemporaries, Young had the right kind of eyes to see the high-water mark, and After the Gold Rush is the departure point on his essential decade-long journey away from the fallout of the 1960s. –Rob MitchumListen. Rock Bottom was in the planning stages when Robert Wyatt survived a fall from a fourth-floor window, a tumble that left him confined to a wheelchair and ended his career as British art-rock’s most endearingly maverick drummer.

I never bought Jimmy Cliff’s optimism in the face of adversity. If Horatio Alger was a ridiculous longshot in the United States, imagine the odds for someone coming from a Jamaican slum. Statistically speaking, that which the people from ghettoized Kingston really want, they never get—no matter how much they try and try. This is political music before reggae artists commonly named names; as in the blues, the only relief from suffering comes when the heart stops beating. In this situation, life without belief would be unbearable.

You can hear the weariness even on the party tracks, making The Harder They Come one of the saddest albums of the decade. –Mark RichardsonListen. After the release of the Stooges’ final album, 1973’s Raw Power, Iggy Pop bottomed out. It would take four years, several jailings, and countless beatings before he would get back on his feet to launch his solo career. After a self-imposed exile in a West Coast mental institution, Pop put in a call to David Bowie, as the two had been intending to hook up for years, and a few days later, they’d boarded a plane to Paris, and then to romantic Berlin where they would finish work on The Idiot.The Idiot presents what is probably Iggy Pop’s darkest release, and rightfully so, given the period of his life during which it was recorded. Set to music written primarily by Bowie during the Station to Station sessions, Pop’s lyrics are often reflective and sentimental—“Dum Dum Boys” pines for his Stooges bandmates, while “Tiny Girls” and “Mass Production” lament stupid love—and when they’re not, they’re bitter and scathingly sarcastic (“Nightclubbing,” “Funtime”).

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Against minimal, mechanical instrumentation, Pop’s delivery is suitably passionless, as he dryly sing/speaks in a deep, unfeeling croak. Musically, it formed the foundation for Joy Division’s cold, caustic creepiness, at times echoing their sound so strikingly it could be mistaken for Unknown Pleasures. In the throes of a crippling bout with depression, it’s clear what was on Ian Curtis’ mind in his final hours. –Ryan SchreiberListen. Physical Graffiti is not the hardest or most influential Zeppelin album. It’s not even their best.

But it’s arguably the most essential. At 80 minutes, it’s as insurmountable, grimy, intimidating, and flat-out awesome as the monolithic tenement building on its cover. And it’s about to collapse on all your friends.

The tracklist is like the Ten Commandments of hard rock, wielding “Custard Pie,” “The Wanton Song,” “Trampled Under Foot,” “Ten Years Gone,” and “Kashmir.” Some of the most popular bands of the 1980s and ’90s did nothing but rip off those five songs over and over again.Graffiti is also the pinnacle of Zeppelin’s mythology: It contains all the requisite gnomes, swashbuckling fools, and garbled Paradise Lost-garden-car-incest-pie euphemisms. Jimmy Page’s broiling and obstinate riffs flatten the songs' images of Middle Eastern mountains and pristine country landscapes.

Robert Plant’s lungs have been seemingly saturated in tar and moonshine. If you must know what John Bonham's thunderous drums are like, cover your head in cement and run into a tsunami. Bizarrely then, the rest of Graffiti is overwhelmed by Page's country and blues fixations. “In My Time of Dying”’s hurling slide-guitar and Plant's entirely blasphemous Christ-lust blast out of a South Carolina shack. The bagpipe-harmonica synths on “In the Light” are sheltered by serenely droning strings. Graffiti proves that not only was Zeppelin powerful enough to sustain a double-album; they were powerful enough to sustain every metal band that came after them. –Alex LinhardtListen.

Experimental bands are always awarded points for making fragmented albums that actually hold together. The mid-’70s Crimson line-up stood for taste and efficiency with a dry, dark wit, and Starless and Bible Black epitomized those qualities. John Wetton’s tersely macho posture suits the lyrics of Richard Palmer-James, who matches the album’s opening squall with the rude awakening of, “Health food faggot.” Even “The Night Watch” skips the mawkishness of other Crimson ballads. The live tracks are mostly improvised, which is one reason Bill Bruford renamed the album “Braless and Slightly Slack.” But the pieces are mostly chafe-free, cropped down to spiky instrumentals that highlight the Robert Fripp-David Cross frontline of sharp guitar and under-the-breath violin and mellotron, all gnashed against Bruford’s clatterwork. And if you can get over how much “Fracture” now sounds like the “Simpsons” theme song, it’s an aggressively brilliant through-composed set piece, as methodical as it is nasty.

–Chris DahlenListen. Although they were together for less than a year, the Band of Gypsys provided the springboard for some of Hendrix’s most soulful, enduring music. The Experience’s psychedelic maelstrom encouraged Hendrix’s attention-grabbing antics, but Buddy Miles and Billy Cox supplied the funky, backbeat-driven rhythm section he sought at the turn of the decade. “Who Knows,” “Power of Soul,” and “Message to Love” blister with the deep funk rock sound Hendrix was turning towards.And then there’s “Machine Gun.” Quite possibly the most wildly explosive and painfully vivid musical statement ever caught live on tape, Hendrix’s 12-minute psychedelic soul mindbender surged from the tragic violence at Altamont to the chaos and devastation of Vietnam. In this one song, he pioneered the simultaneous use of four different effects pedals and cemented his reputation as one of the greatest guitarists of all time.

Talk about shock and awe: If it sounds that insane on the album, imagine what the Fillmore East crowd was feeling that New Year’s Eve. –Jonathan ZwickelListen.