Today’s Cute Animal is Baby Turkey!
(Happy Thanksgiving!)
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Today’s Sweet Jam is Women - Black Rice!
My Top 100 Favorite Songs of the Decade: 50-41
One, two, three, four, here’s a list, what’s the score?
50. Belle and Sebastian - Your Cover’s Blown
Where did this come from? It’s not like Belle and Sebastian had never experimented with other genres before (and it’s not like they haven’t since either), but it’s hard to expel the image of them as whisper soft, cardigan-clad bookworms. Not the kind of people who craft multi-movement disco epics. Certainly, not the kind of people who craft the decade’s greatest multi-movement disco epic. “Your Cover’s Blown” definitely benefits from its surprise, but manages to be so great that it also completely separates from it.
49. The Guillemots - Trains to Brazil
The Guillemots are a fine band who really don’t do all that much for me. They’ve no loss of great ideas or talent, but there’s always something seemingly purposeless and dull about the majority of their material. Maybe they used up all their purpose on “Trains To Brazil.” If so, okay, good decision. “Trains To Brazil” swings for the fences more heartily than most modern rock singles. Between music that sounds like “Come On Eileen’s” slightly more downbeat cousin, singer Fyfe Dangerfield fits in some mighty big concepts: war, indictment of the complainers, school day memories, the loss of some big universal “you,” and just being happy to be alive. It risks being overstuffed, but instead hits that perfect sweet spot.
48. Dan Deacon - Wham City
A twelve-minute song of spaz electronics that regularly coerces serious adults into singing their hearts out about a giant bear with a band of goats and cats and pig and bats with brooms and bats and wigs and rats. Anything else I could say wouldn’t describe this song’s greatness any better than that.
47. Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out
Out of all the songs on this list, I feel like I could count the universally (or even near-universally) loved ones on my fingers. But I’m saving a pinky for “Take Me Out.” Maybe I just never asked the right people, but I feel like I’ve never met a soul that didn’t care for this song. Basically all of the good and none of the bad of that mid-decade post-punk revival, “Take Me Out” manages to be both cocky and sensitive, funky and hopelessly stilted. Besides, it’s just a wonder to hear a song so repetitive that never gets old.
46. The New Pornographers - Letter From An Occupant
For a period of time in my sophomore year of college, I took a short bike ride nearly every night around campus. If I had just gotten something new and exciting, that was my soundtrack. If not, it was “Letter From An Occupant.” The New Pornographers built their whole career on trying to capture this song’s breezy rush. Most of the time, they almost get there. Their near-successes are always glorious, but still, this is both their blueprint and their peak.
45. Daft Punk - Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger
The annoying part about writing about Daft Punk’s essential singles is trying to come up with something new to say. You’ve heard this song a million times and, unless you’re dumb or something, you think it’s great. Do you need me to tell you why? Well, here we go anyway. Though there are, spoiler alert, two more Daft Punk songs on this list (aaaaargh!), this is probably their most legend-making. It’s the one that solidifies the idea that these guys are robots programmed to make the sickest beats and toughest grooves imaginable. Their other songs make them world-conquering electronic musicians, this one makes them robots.
44. Silver Jews - Punks In The Beerlight
David Berman took home the trophy for the best opening line of the 1990s with “In 1984, I was hospitalized for approaching perfection.” With “Where’s the paper bag that holds the liquor/Just in case I feel the need to puke,” he submitted his entry to this decade’s contest. But where “Random Rules” sauntered down the American interstate system, “Punks In The Beerlight” simply thrashes around Berman’s bedroom. Those who wish to separate the music from the musician lose out big on this one, as knowing Berman’s personal troubles (drug problems and a suicide attempt, for starters) really makes the song’s desperation all the more powerful. Berman’s voice is full of fire for the majority of the song, but, man, does it hit an intense note of resignation with “Let’s not kid ourselves, it gets really really bad.” The guy knows.
43. Animal Collective - My Girls
For some reason, I’m having a hard time nailing down exactly what it is that makes “My Girls” so special. Which, in a way, is probably what makes it special. The song recalls a lot of disparate elements without exactly being just that. It’s almost dance music (and draws inspiration from Freddy Knuckles), yet not exactly dancy. The drums evoke a tribal notion, yet it’s obviously a very modern sounding track. And then there are those charmingly domestic lyrics, sung beautifully by Panda Bear. Actually, I guess that last is exactly what it is. Huh.
42. Justice - D.A.N.C.E.
Justice released their debut album in mid-2007 and, unless I missed something, there have been no signs that a follow-up is imminent. And they probably don’t really, really need to. “D.A.N.C.E.” had plenty of staying power to begin with, but, as the endless tribute to MJ marches on, anything recalling the King of Pop so blatantly is going to have some steam. More so, anything that captures his essence so well is going to have a ton of steam. And anything that captures that essence while sounding like a top-shelf 20th century dance cut? Well, hey, that’s why this song was so great to begin with.
41. Beulah - Popular Mechanics For Lovers
We’ve had a glut of charming and clever indie-pop this decade. Problem is, little of it is actually charming and actually clever. That’s where “Popular Mechanics For Lovers” comes in. “Popular Mechanics For Lovers” is, conceptually, about as sad-sack as music can be. Sad ol’ Miles Kurosky longs for a girl in love with another guy. Tale as old as time or, at least, as old as the Violent Femmes. Like the Femmes, Beulah soundtrack their heartbreak with a jovial bounce, complete with a big guitar rush and sticky-sweet harmonies during the chorus. It’s still the lyrics that steal the show, however, remaining funny dozens of listens later. That Magnetic Fields reference still never feels overly clever and “He would never take a bullet for you” is still one of the most hilarious over-the-top declarations of love this decade’s produced. The best part, though? When Kurosky admits that maybe, just maybe, there’s not that much between him and his object of desire. But, hey, he can edit those parts out.
My Top 100 Favorite Songs of the Decade: 60-51
Halfway point, let’s go!
60. Fleet Foxes - White Winter Hymnal
The first time I heard “White Winter Hymnal,” it made me very uncomfortable. Figuring out exactly why takes some deep digging, but I think it has something to do with how out-of-time the song sounds. It’s not that pure church-ready harmonies are really that odd, but they’re usually attached to something a little more conventionally “rock.” Or they’re attached to some sort of old timey kitsch. Instead, the harmonies are carried away on that oddly circular melody, which feels decades old, but without that little wink and nudge. It’s a cliche to say a song creates it’s own little world, but “White Winter Hymnal” is one of the few that really does. Thankfully, that world doesn’t even wear out its welcome, shuffling out the door before you can really question it.
59. Gnarls Barkley - Crazy
There is not another song on this list that has done more for the artists behind it. Without it, Danger Mouse would be that Grey Album mash up guy. Without it, every conversation concerning Cee-Lo would begin with “Hey, remember Goodie Mob?”. This isn’t a slight to either of those guys, as both have done some pretty top-notch work outside of “Crazy.” But, man, what a song to have as your defining moment. Another track where its overexposure never came with a sigh of frustration, but instead a sigh that something so just-plain-good was getting such exposure.
58. Hercules and Love Affair - Blind
I hate Antony & The Johnsons. Well, hate is strong. I think Antony & The Johnsons are terribly, terribly boring. As such, this song is a great argument for only letting Antony work with Andy Butler and Tim Goldsworthy. The man wears his temporary disco diva garb well, floating over Butler’s tumbling beat. No disservice to said beat either, as it’s the kind of thing that could have fueled any number of great dance tracks. But still, it’s Antony’s passioned, almost fearful singing that propels this to the upper echelon.
57. The Mae Shi - Run To Your Grave
The Mae Shi’s break up (?) is a bummer in all the typical ways, but it’s more of a bummer because this group was honestly so unique. Spaz-rock bands are a dime a dozen. Spaz-rock bands cramming all their whirlwind riffs and electrified synths into gleeful songs with sincerely Bible-derived lyrics aren’t quite as common. Their faster material is plenty compelling, but “Run To Your Grave” is that one moment where they slow everything down for the purpose of throwing their arms around everyone for that one big sing-a-long. And they succeed wildly. Need proof? I’m not the most religious guy around and they’ve got me screaming “God! Will! Do! The Rest!” like I believe every word.
56. Why? - Gemini (Birthday Song)
Out of California’s avant-rap underground comes this, the decade’s Hollywood-high-school-promiest song. The sort of song that sounds like kids who believe tonight’s the most important life, sounds like the football team making that last touchdown, sounds like the nerds and jocks not being so different after all. Musically, that’s what it sounds like. Lyrically, it sounds like a typical Yoni Wolf bloodletting, except even more desperate and bizarre. There’s a whole little bizarre world here, what with Wolf waking up in a bath of hair and a woman passing out while ordering White Castle and a moth caught in the soapdish, laminated in lye. There’s also an incredibly sincere love song here, what with Wolf asking if his “dead line Gemini” will remember him if he doesn’t live another year and crying into her nightshirt and gasping out fears of being separated by death. What does all this mean? It means that if Yoni Wolf quits this music thing and reinvents himself as a John Hughes-esque film director, I’ll be the first in line.
55. Clipse - Trill
It’s just empty braggadocio, that’s all. So, why is it so scary, so intense? Probably because “Trill” manages to play to its creators’ strengths on fronts of both lyrics and production. The Thornton bros are at their best when they’re playing up a steely intimidation, sounding both completely calm and completely furious. They accomplish that perfectly on the chorus, the words of which aren’t exactly the most threatening. Then there’s the Neptunes beat, which sounds like someone shot lasers all over “Grindin’.” But here’s the question at hand: how does a laser, which consists of pure light, sound pitch-black? I’ll never know, but I will never tell you it doesn’t here.
54. The Decemberists - Grace Cathedral Hill
Colin Meloy almost certainly got where he is today by spinning yarns of fantastical fictional characters. He deserves it, too, as he’s awfully good at it. However, I’ve never found him so striking as on this track seemingly about himself. Meloy conjures two of the most influential musical spirits of the 1990s here: Neutral Milk Hotel and Elliott Smith. Though Smith’s tiny corner should be cancelled out by Jeff Mangum’s huge, strange world, Meloy finds a happy-medium here with a song that feels geographically huge, but utterly personal. He may never sound so small again. I wish he would.
53. The Hold Steady - Hornets! Hornets!
A series of bold moves. The biggest one is up first: pushing Craig Finn’s voice to the front with absolutely no backing. It’s a move sure to turn off plenty of folks who came in to check out this new band every critic has been raving about, but it’s also a necessary one. The Hold Steady had to make sure you could handle their next move, a five minute trip of throat-punching riffs and stargazing keys. Even more importantly so, they had to make sure you could follow the plot, which involves, among other things, the following: Kate Bush, Lolita, an ever-ready drug dealer, Bones Brigade videos, the crowds at the really big shows, three skaters, and a hoodrat chick who’s just gonna have to go with whoever’s gonna get her the highest. Almost Killed Me was great and all, but this was the first indication that The Hold Steady were playing to win. The heavy stuff just got a little heavier.
52. Wilco - I Am Trying To Break Your Heart
Ugh, Jeff Tweedy is such a…dad these days. Really, there’s nothing wrong with it, he’s obviously doing what he would like to be doing with Wilco. Yet, it’s hard not to long for the days when he’d open a song with a line as weird as “I am an American aquarium drinker/I assassin down the avenue.” What does that mean? Who knows, but it is perfect for a song as totally unclassifiable as “I Am Trying To Break Your Heart.” There’s this idea that Wilco is Americana and, in a way, that makes complete sense here. Think about the sounds of this song. Alarm clocks. Bottle rockets. Bitter sarcasm. And, sure, a little light country guitar.
51. Panda Bear - Bros
“Bros” has never felt like it twelve minutes long, probably because it never gives me any time to realize that it is. At first, Noah Lennox is strolling along, acoustic guitar in digital hand, gently introduces us to his little world. Then everything starts getting a little peppier and it’s suddenly a celebration. Then we’re on a train and then a city and then we’re back and we forgot we left at all. None of us are totally sure what happened but we know there were some kids and some people were yelling and there was this one beautiful voice but we weren’t sure what it was exactly saying but it sounded like “I know we’ll be invincible” but we’re also pretty sure that’s not right. Might as well be right.
My Top 100 Favorite Songs of the Decade: 70-61
Hey, remember when I was writing a list of my top 100 songs of this decade? I do. Vaguely. I probably would have forgotten forever had some grizzled archeologist not uncovered the now-ancient tablets in which I inscribed my thoughts, along with some crude drawings I made by crushing up fresh berries. Let’s hear it for science.
Anyway, the real reason for the delay was that I was dedicating the vast majority of my time to studying for the GRE. Then I took the GRE (and did rather well, if you were wondering) on the 1st, so the reason became, well, laziness. Or let’s just say I was decompressing after the GRE. That just sounds so much better.
We’re back on this train now. Choo choo, all aboard to Listville. Let’s hope I get to #1 before the next decade.
70. Andrew Jackson Jihad - Brave As a Noun
Count the songs on your iTunes that attempt to convince you that you’re not alone, that somebody knows how you feel. Actually, don’t, that will take far too long. Relieving a feeling of loneliness may be a key function of pop music, but it is also a rather selfish one. Break it down and you’re dealing with at least two lonely, sad people, instead of one lonely, sad person. That’s why the sentiment in “Brave As A Noun” is so great. We’re all affected by the same pool of neuroses and anxieties, and that is a terrible thing. Inevitably, “Brave As A Noun” does become the same sort of kinship-producing music it decries, but not many of those songs produce that through this sort of recognition of selfishness.
69. Junior Senior - Move Your Feet
Novelty? What novelty? The idea that Junior Senior could be written off as some sort of schtick act, especially when all most know of them is “Move Your Feet,” is one of the sadder notions in recent pop music history. There’s no gimmick here, just a pure pleasure pop instant-classic. Before you stop to question the brilliance of “Move Your Feet,” ask yourself a couple questions. Have you ever not gotten a little excited whenever you hear that opening “GO!”? Did you ever not sing along to the “We’re going downtown” part? Has that chorus ever failed to crack a smile on your face? I can’t imagine the answer to any of these questions being “yes.”
68. Ted Leo & The Pharmacists - Where Have All The Rude Boys Gone?
The following are not required to love this song: a deep love of the Specials, years of skanking experience, a two-tone suit, a porkpie hat, etc etc. But it does make this song just the little bit more, well, special knowing that Leo’s joy comes from a genre that tends to get kind of a bad rap. Tributes to indie rock or hardcore or something would have been great songs, too, but, hey, you probably liked ska (in one form or another) in high school, right? The formula of bouncy punk rock and horns probably sounded like the best thing in the world at the time. On “Rudeboys,” it’s as if Leo injected that joy straight into the supercharged riff that the song is built upon. There may not be a shred of ska in the song itself, but it certainly captures that pure, joyful discovery. And no matter how many times I hear it or how many years go by or how cynical I become, it never seems to fade.
67. Hot Chip - And I Was A Boy From School
Hot Chip may be able to bring the dance floor heat (they may also be able to break your legs and snap off your head), but that’s never been their greatest attribute. No, it’s their ability to infuse that heat with an airy lilt that really makes Hot Chip special. And they’ve never felt more special than on “And I Was A Boy From School.” That jackhammer beat seems like it could go on forever and, if it did, I don’t know if I would mind. As it stands, I’m glad it doesn’t, because when it drops out and Alexis Taylor’s falsetto gets pushed to the front, it grabs the attention like a room full of breaking glass. How exactly they managed to break all that glass with a feather is beyond me, but that’s Hot Chip for you.
66. Xiu Xiu - I Luv The Valley, OH!
My favorite scream in all of recorded music occurs a minute and forty-six seconds into this song. By Xiu Xiu standards, “I Luv The Valley, OH!” is pretty mannered. Jamie Stewart seethes with palpable desperation throughout the song, but compared to some of his more violent freak outs, he’s positively conversational here. It’s that restraint that makes the song stand out among the discography of a group that’s always intriguing, but not always so listenable. Xiu Xiu seems like they’re meeting the listener halfway here, crafting a song with gravely hooky music and lyrics that seem like an endless chorus. Then that scream pops in and you remember, yeah, this is still Xiu Xiu and god bless ‘em.
65. LCD Soundsystem - Losing My Edge
“Losing My Edge” is funny, sure, but even the most hilarious joke gets old. And nobody wants to hear an old joke for eight minutes at a time. So, why exactly is this thin, repetitive song so listenable? It’s a slowly loudening squelchy synth and some 1980s-robot programming and some drum breaks and James Murphy’s endless rant. Well, it’s listenable because, somehow, some way, James Murphy used his DFA magic to make all those dull ingredients sound totally joyful. The guy may be playing the role of the jaded hipster, the guy who has seen it all, but the setting isn’t some chic dance club where he’s looking down on the kids. It’s his bedroom, where he’s freaking out about no longer being the king of New York City, going off to no one in particular about the kids, obsessing over his record collection, and dancing around to his favorite tracks. It’s a crazy, unreasonable mania “Losing My Edge” represents and it lets us feel it, too.
64. Jens Lekman - A Postcard To Nina
A quick list of why “A Postcard To Nina” is among the best detail heavy story-songs in a discography loaded with great detail heavy story-songs.
I. The concept (Jens stuck in an awkward dinner/conversation with a lesbian friend’s father, whom he is pretending to be the boyfriend of) is a little less well-worn than even the misunderstandings of “Maple Leaves” or the bad ride home of “Black Cab.”
II. The even-handed characterization of Nina’s father, who may be a little old-fashioned (“his Catholic card is big and slow”), but portrayed as so kind that even the seemingly always friendly Lekman comes off as a bit of a jerk with his auto-reply.
III. The way the motown pop swing that anchors the song just constantly comes off as nothing but pleasurable.
IV. “I thought you were moving to Sweden.” “Oh.” Lekman’s comic delivery here is about perfect.
V. I through IV, plus pretty much everything else in the song that I haven’t mentioned.
63. Japandroids - Young Hearts Spark Fire
Japandroids are so quaint. All their songs about girls or wanting to leave town or being bummed about girls or being bummed that they can’t leave town. Not exactly new ground here. So, it’s a testament to them that they make all these things sound earth-shatteringly huge. “Young Hearts Spark Fire” youthful rush seemingly tears across Canada with a raised beer and a fierce pump. It works so effectively that you almost forget the endless-bummer of the chorus: “We used to dream/Now we worry about dying.”
I’m not sure why this song wasn’t bigger. Destroyer, of course, is kind of an impenetrable artist, characterized by tangly arrangements and even more tangly lyrics. But “European Oils” is a different ball game altogether. One of the most ornate, inviting songs Dan Bejar has ever put together, it seemingly invites mass appeal. Then again, somewhere between the “la-la-la”s and the bridge’s cathartic exclamations, there’s plenty of talk about making tombs for incompatible cells and getting it on with the hangman’s daughter and all that. Perhaps it’s not surprising that this song wasn’t Mr. Bejar’s big breakthrough, but it’s another great one for the true believers.
61. Peter Bjorn and John - Young Folks
Every movie trailer. Every TV background music spot. Every time it’s been played a party to bridge the gap between the indie devotees and the indie agnostics. Every failed attempt to whistle along. Every ringtone. I could go on. The point is, “Young Folks” may be the most overexposed song of the decade. But, in this case, is it even a bad thing? I can’t recall ever being sick of this song. In fact, I can’t recall ever being anything less than totally glad to hear this song. Even if that whistle will be stuck in my head when I’m on my death bed.
