"THE SPIRIT OF RADIO" RUSH (1980)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

There never was and never will be another rocker as talented as Neil Peart. Behind the quiet, stoic veneer was a man who was an absolute beast on drums and a master of the lyric. I always loved his drumming – the sheer speed, technique, versatility and originality. He has no peers. But lyrically, I didn’t always get it. The fantasy worlds that Neil created often soared over my head. But he is a brilliant lyricist – and occasionally his lyrics leave me speechless, like the words on “The Spirit Of Radio”.

It’s one of Rush’s big anthems – and part of the band’s coming out party. “The Spirit Of Radio” literally put them on the radio for good. Many think this is Alex’s song – as his opening guitar riff is one of Rush’s best openings – if not one of rock & roll’s best openings period. And with a song that became as mainstream as Rush gets, it’s easy to overlook the brilliance of Neil’s lyrics. It’s part poem, part essay, and at the end of the day, it’s just a song about the power of music – written in a way that only Neil can capture.

“For the words of the profits Were written on the studio wall. Concert hall Echoes with the sounds of salesmen.”

"ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL, PT. 2" PINK FLOYD (1979)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

The Wall was my introduction to Pink Floyd. While I never gravitated toward the band’s earlier prog-driven catalog – save Dark Side Of The Moon and a handful of anthems, of course – The Wall played a pivotal role for me as a music fan. It’s when I truly recognized the power and breadth of albums, not one-off singles and tracks. As a concept album, The Wall is one of the most complete efforts of its era and seems to live under the shadow of Dark Side. It’s a shame because even a mainstream hit like “Another Brick In The Wall, Pt. 2” is a fantastic song in spite of its accessible sound.

The second track in the “Another Brick” series, this is the one that rails against abuse in the school system. It’s yet another brick in Pink’s wall. And musically, it pulls out all the stops to place the brick just right – Gilmour’s guitar solo, just the right bit of disco, the samples (“If you don’t eat your meat, how can you have any pudding”) and the kicker: the epic children’s chorus. “Another Brick In The Wall, Pt. 2” is that rare combination of chart topper, social commentary platform and music melting pot.

“We don't need no education. We don't need no thought control. No dark sarcasm in the classroom. Teacher, leave them kids alone.”

"WE DO WHAT WE'RE TOLD (MILGRAM'S 37)" PETER GABRIEL (1986)

For October, the Mental Jukebox is dialing it way back to the eighties and going deep. Deep cuts have always been an important element of music listening to me because they’re often the songs that resonate with me most. Deep cuts are usually the ones that the true fans appreciate most. I like my singles and hits, but I love my deep cuts.

While “Shock The Monkey” certainly thrusted Peter Gabriel into the mainstream spotlight, the So album is really the output that made him a permanent fixture among the masses. “Sledgehammer”, “Big Time”, “In Your Eyes”, “Don’t Give Up”, everyone knows these songs thanks to MTV, mainstream radio and a coming-of-age flick called Say Anything. But lurking in the back end of this landmark album are two prog anthems – “This Is The Picture (Excellent Birds)” and “We Do What We’re Told (Milgram’s 37)” – that prove Gabriel never lost the itch for something far more unexpected.

“We Do What We’re Told (Milgram’s 37)” is a far cry from the track that precedes it (“Big Time”) in every regard. It’s a slow, prodding track that prefers to crawl under your skin rather than whack you in the head. The synthesizer and guitar notes are sparse and haunted. Minimal. The words resemble an existential poem more than a rock song. And the impression is far less immediate. A song that may not have an immediate impact on you, but days after hearing it you might find it lurking inside your head.

“One doubt. One voice. One waR. One truth. One dream.”

"VITAL SIGNS" RUSH (1981)

For October, the Mental Jukebox is dialing it way back to the eighties and going deep. Deep cuts have always been an important element of music listening to me because they’re often the songs that resonate with me most. Deep cuts are usually the ones that the true fans appreciate most. I like my singles and hits, but I love my deep cuts.

The Moving Pictures album is widely recognized as one of Rush’s best albums – from beginning to end. It is a tale of two halves. Side A contains four of the band’s biggest anthems. While still rooted in Rush’s progressive agenda, the songs reveal signs of a band willing to reach across the aisle to music fans that prefer more straight ahead rock, most notably in “Limelight” and “Red Barchetta”. But Side B is unapologetically progressive and less palatable for the masses. That’s what makes songs like “Vital Signs” so good.

The song reflects Peart’s mind for things rock bands rarely articulate so eloquently. “Leave out the fiction. The fact is this friction will only be worn by persistence.” The electronic elements give the song its prog tilt, but it’s also a song heavily influenced by the reggae rock sound of The Police in both the drums and guitar playing. “Vital Signs” is clear evidence of a band that’s willing to evolve and welcome in new influences. A band that has never settled for the status quo.

“Leave out conditions. Courageous convictions Will drag the dream into existence.”

"RESISTANCE" MUSE (2009)

A great title track is par for the course when it comes to great albums. If the title track doesn’t cut it, what does that say about the album itself? This month, the Mental Jukebox will be playing some of my favorite title tracks – inspired by @NicolaB_73’s music Twitter challenge, #TopTitleTracks.

Muse is a band that was a bit of an acquired taste for me. While I’m relatively open-minded to different styles and genres, I do lean toward a “less is more” mentality, preferring minimal to maximal. But I started to appreciate Muse’s “more is more” approach when my son took an interest in the band. I started to appreciate the level of musicianship and complexity of arrangements despite being a three-piece band. I started to appreciate the diverse musical phases of Muse – metal bangers, prog epics, vast synthscapes, pop melodies. And somewhere in the middle is the title track from the 2009 record The Resistance.

The title track is the glue that connects the guitar-driven opener “Uprising” and the synth poppy “Undisclosed Desires”.”Resistance” is an aural tour de force that combines accessible synth hooks, melodic bass lines, and deafening guitar riffs. It leans in on just about every Muse impulse (except the metal banger side). “Resistance” is also quite the live anthem, a song concert attendees can’t help but belt along to as if they were part of the resistance themselves.

“You'll wake the thought police. We can't hide the truth inside.”

"2112" RUSH (1976)

A great title track is par for the course when it comes to great albums. If the title track doesn’t cut it, what does that say about the album itself? This month, the Mental Jukebox will be playing some of my favorite title tracks – inspired by @NicolaB_73’s music Twitter challenge, #TopTitleTracks.

Borrowing Rush cassettes from the town library as a kid was a sort of rite of passage for me as a music fan. Friends from school who had older brothers would tell me how great the band was. At the library, I would flip through the album offerings and those album covers – 2112, Signals, Permanent Waves, A Farewell To Kings – caught my attention. Expressive album art with strange beige plastic backs, these albums stood out like sore thumbs. Then I would play the music in my basement and get lost in the music of Rush, including the epic title track “2112”, featuring seven movements.

“2112” takes up the entire Side A. A concept that was mind blowing to me as a kid who thought songs were supposed to max out at four minutes. The first two parts – “Overture” and “The Temples of Syrinx” have always been my favorite. This magnum opus kicks off with a celestial soundscape. Then Alex’s guitar asserts itself like Neil Armstrong planting the American flag on the moon – only here it’s the Canadian flag that gets flaunted. Then Neil’s thunderous drum rolls unleash and it’s on like Donkey Kong. There’s still a sense of wonder in me every time I hear it.

“All the gifts of life are held within our walls.”

"BONES" RADIOHEAD (1995)

The moment a song is born, the world is different. It’s now a part of our lives. We sing it in the shower. We dance to it at our wedding. We get pumped with it. We break up to it. We memorize it. We try to forget it. We rediscover it. This month, I’m joining Arron Wright’s Twitter music challenge: ##Popiversary2. Because why the hell not. Songs deserve their own anniversaries, too.

Year: 1995

Music fans have mostly heralded the originality and ambition of OK Computer and Kid A over all the other incredible Radiohead albums. OK Computer is one of my favorite albums of all time, no doubt. But it’s not even my favorite Radiohead record. That distinction belongs to The Bends. I love innovation just like any semi-serious music fan, but at the end of the day, I just want a great collection of bangers. Like the first six studio albums from Zeppelin, The Bends is an album built on monster guitar riffs, not monster ambitions. There’s not a weak link in the bunch. “Street Spirit (Fade Out)”, “Fake Plastic Trees” and “(Nice Dream)” are perhaps the most well known songs on the tracklist, but “Bones” is one of those that makes me wish Radiohead would keep rocking out a little more.
How about Jonny’s guitar chops on this one? On “Bones”, this makes me think of all the kids out there who want to play guitar. I think most of them want to play like Jonny. Thrashing, screeching and motoring his way across a three-minute piece de resistance. Everything else rides on this monster wave, that grooving bass line and Thom’s vocals that fluctuate from straight-ahead underground to falsetto in the heavens. “Bones” is the kid in Thom, Jonny, Ed, Colin and Philip jamming in the garage because there’s nothing remotely better to do with their time.

“NOW I CAN'T CLIMB THE STAIRS. PIECES MISSING EVERYWHERE. PROZAC PAINKILLERS. WHEN YOU'VE GOT TO FEEL IT IN YOUR BONES.”

"STOCKHOLM SYNDROME" MUSE (2003)

The moment a song is born, the world is different. It’s now a part of our lives. We sing it in the shower. We dance to it at our wedding. We get pumped with it. We break up to it. We memorize it. We try to forget it. We rediscover it. This month, I’m joining Arron Wright’s Twitter music challenge: ##Popiversary2. Because why the hell not. Songs deserve their own anniversaries, too.

Year: 2003

I first discovered Muse on a car ride. My in-laws asked me if I heard the band Muse and then proceeded to play songs from Absolution. I wasn’t hooked immediately, but I was intrigued enough because I had heard nothing like them before. Muse is a genre masher. They sound like metal at time and attract their fair share of headbangers at their shows. They also have a progressive bent to them, both lyrically and musically with ambitious compositions soaked in heavy distortion. They even have classical music accents in terms of their song structures and chord progressions. You can hear Chopin and Rachmaninov imprinted all over their music. All of these genres come to a head in “Stockholm Syndrome”, one of the band’s most aggressive bangers.

“Sockholm Syndrome” lifts you up and then shoves you down. Every single note and word seemingly unleashing a fit of rage. You might just be casually listening to the music when you feel the slightest bit of insanity taking over. Interestingly, the song personifies the abuser in a Stockholm syndrome scenario, not the victim. Like the abuser, the music feels like it’s trying to sway you. Convince you. “Stockholm Syndrome” demands your obedience and that you never leave its side. Which is totally fine by me.

“AND WE'LL LOVE, AND WE'LL HATE AND WE'LL DIE. ALL TO NO AVAIL.”

"SUBDIVISIONS" RUSH (1982)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

In my elementary school years, my parents would take my brother and I to the Pleasantville town library. Thing is, I had no interest in books at the time. But the library had music cassettes that you could borrow. It was inside this library that I discovered one of the most important bands of my journey as a music fan: Rush. The cassette backs were a strange beige. The music was cerebral, mostly guitar-driven, album-oriented, progressive-as-progressive-gets rock. Signals was one of the first albums I devoured – and my favorite track from the album with the spotted dog is the opener, “Subdivisions”.

One of Rush’s synth-heavy tracks, “Subdivisions” feels like a departure from the guitar-first sound the band created for over a decade by the time Signals came around. But not to fret, Alex gets his guitar solo, a proper banger at the 4:20 mark. Lyrically, this is one of my favorite Neil Peart writings. It’s a song of the stark dystopian reality of suburbia. While many of Neil’s lyrics in other songs ruminate over fictitious narratives, “Subdivisions” seemed much more grounded and relatable. A rare gem in the great Rush canon.

“In the high school halls. In the shopping malls. Conform or be cast out. Subdivisions.”

"FITTER HAPPIER" RADIOHEAD (1997)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

OK Computer and Kid A are the two most commonly cited Radiohead albums in terms of the band’s massive innovation and influence on rock. While The Bends is still my favorite record of theirs – can’t get enough of Jonny’s monster guitar riffs on that one – OK Computer is my second favorite Radiohead album. Every song is progressive in its own way. But of all the tracks, “Fitter Happier” pushes the norms of rock music the most.

First off, it’s barely a song. It’s a track with the only thing that’s remotely melodic being the wandering piano and disparate synth sounds. “Fitter Happier” feels like the audio equivalent of a David Lynch film. The mood it creates is perhaps its biggest strength. The irony of all the things listed as ways to become fitter and happier seem so lifeless when recited by the automated voiceover. It seems to be more life-draining than life-giving.

“Fitter happier. More productive. Comfortable. Not drinking too much. Regular exercise at the gym 3 days a week.”

"RED BARCHETTA" RUSH (1981)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Growing up, every Rush album cover I gazed at was epic and teased the promise of something equally epic happening inside. One of the albums that I’ve played from beginning to end incessantly was Moving Pictures. In the streaming age, this ritual has lost its luster a bit, as I’ve ended up playing its individual tracks probably more often than the entire LP. But in recent years, this has only helped reinforce how much each of these songs mean to me — and none more so than “Red Barchetta”. A song that both the cool and uncool kids in my elementary school could all agree on.

“Tom Sawyer” had swagger. “YYZ” had prowess. “Limelight” had melody. But “Red Barchetta” had heart. About a joy ride turned car chase, it had all the musical trappings to further the narrative — from Peart’s cymbal crashes to Lee’s adrenaline-fueled vocals. One of my favorite Alex Lifeson guitar solos happens at the 3:20 mark. Often overshadowed by Lee’s bass playing skills and Peart’s prowess on drums, Lifeson more than held his own on “Red Barchetta”, a song that carries with it so much nostalgia.

“I strip away the old debris That hides a shining car. A brilliant red Barchetta From a better vanished time.”

"LIMELIGHT" RUSH (1981)

This month, I’m looking back at movies and tv shows to rediscover songs that graced the screen. The scenes and the music are inseparable. They’re engrained in our heads and our hearts. And they’re proof that the best music we have doesn’t exist in isolation. It attaches itself to a moment or an experience. #SceneSongs

Movie: I Love You, Man

Rush fans are an interesting bunch. They are inarguably some of the most devoted fans on the planet. Rush fans possess a special bond, but they are scorned, laughed at, and misunderstood by the masses – just like the band. Which is why I Love You, Man had such polarizing reactions. Many viewers saw the main characters’ obsession with the band as hilarious. Rush fans, however, viewed the obsession as nothing short of awesome. If anything, they wish the deep cuts, or at least less obvious picks, made it on to the movie soundtrack, not the universally known stuff. But c’est la vie. “Limelight” – along with “Tom Sawyer” and “Fly By Night” – deservingly put Rush truly into the limelight for a moment.

Moving Pictures is often cited as one of the band’s greatest records. It’s an amalgam of the band’s prog tendencies (“YYZ”, “The Camera Eye”, “Witch Hunt”) as well as their occasional penchant for straight-ahead rock (“Red Barchetta”, “Limelight”). On the latter, there actually isn’t much “slappin’ da’ bass”. Geddy’s biggest contributions on “Limelight” are singing in a more palatable tone for the masses and working in sympatico with Alex on the melody and instrumentation. Alex has some pretty fine guitar chops on “Limelight” as well. But I’d argue that this song was all about Neil, as the lyricist and purveyor of whatever the drum equivalent is of “slappin’ da’ bass”. There are some phenomenal fills in there.

“Living on a lighted stage. Approaches the unreal. For those who think and feel. In touch with some reality beyond the gilded cage.”

"WAITING FOR THE WORMS" PINK FLOYD (1979)

I started Mental Jukebox nearly three years ago at the beginning of the pandemic. During this time, I’ve discovered new music, rediscovered old favorites and I’ve met passionate music fans around the world. And when things opened up, I kept on blogging. This month, the jukebox goes deeper. The term “deep cut” has multiple meanings. It can refer to lesser known album tracks from well-known artists. It can also refer to tracks from lesser known artists. This month, I’ll be featuring both types. #DeepCutsFeb

Few rock & roll moments can rival the experience of hearing The Wall for the first time as a teenager. I was obsessed with this album for quite a while – and the movie, too. The Wall is an extraordinary soundtrack because, first of all, it’s a true soundtrack filled with songs intimately woven into the scenes of the movie. These tracks aren’t just background noise. Beyond simple ear candy, this was music that indulged the head and the heart fully. There was no filler on here. “Waiting For The Worms”, as a deep cut, is all the proof you need.

“Waiting For The Worms” is a perfect example of the ingenuity and ambition of Pink Floyd. They gave their minds and hearts fully to the music. This track won me over from the first listen. It flaunts like Queen one moment, and trudges like Sabbath another. To call it a rock song is to overlook its complexity – this is more like a composition with four interconnected movements. The megaphone alone crawls under your skin and stays buried there for days.

“Waiting to cut out the deadwood. Waiting to CLEAN up the city. Waiting to FOLLOW the worms. Waiting to put on a BLACK shirt. Waiting to weed out the weaklings. Waiting to SMASH in THEIR windows And kick iN THEIR doors.”

"TERRITORIES" RUSH (1985)

I started Mental Jukebox nearly three years ago at the beginning of the pandemic. During this time, I’ve discovered new music, rediscovered old favorites and I’ve met passionate music fans around the world. And when things opened up, I kept on blogging. This month, the jukebox goes deeper. The term “deep cut” has multiple meanings. It can refer to lesser known album tracks from well-known artists. It can also refer to tracks from lesser known artists. This month, I’ll be featuring both types. #DeepCutsFeb

Power Windows was the first CD I ever purchased. Funny thing is, I continued to buy cassettes afterwards. In retrospect, I’m confused as to why I went backwards with my album format before returning later to CDs. It seemed Power Windows was simply deserving of a higher quality sound. The decision to buy a CD ultimately paid off, allowing the exceptional production quality of the album to shine through. Typically, a deep cut appears as one of the last couple of tracks on the album. But “Mystic Rhythms”, a single, can hardly be considered one. “Territories”, on the other hand, is – even as the fifth of eight tracks.

It’s the Alex Lifeson show here. One of the few tracks from Power Windows where the synthesizers take a hiatus and the monster riffs come out to play. I have no problem when Rush mashes on the keys, but I always felt the band felt more complete when Lifeson was wielding the axe early and often. “Territories” marks out clear boundaries all the over place – the verses, the chorus, and the instrumental refrains – with one guitar riff after another trekking, traversing, globetrotting and taking us along for the ride.

“Better people... better food... and better beer... Why move around the world when Eden was so near?”

"MIAMI 2017" BILLY JOEL (1976)

You can get off to a fast start. You can sustain your opener with the main course, not filler. But can you end on a high note? Sometimes I wonder if recording a strong closer is the most difficult thing to pull off when it comes to album rock. When it comes to the cream of the crop in music, I can think of more strong openers than strong closers. Nonetheless, I still have my favorites which I’ll be featuring on Mental Jukebox all month.

As a New Yorker, the music of Billy Joel has always resonated with me on a deeper level than with the average casual fan. My first show was a Billy Joel concert at Giants Stadium. An Innocent Man, The Bridge and Storm Front were the albums of my youth, but my favorite album from the Piano Man is Turnstiles. It is a quintessential New York album. A record that signals Joel’s return to New York after his time in Hollywood. Several songs reference New York, including the apocalyptic masterpiece “Miami 2017 (I’ve Seen The Lights Go Out On Broadway)” – a prog rock anomaly and a hell of a closer from the Piano Man.

It might be my favorite Billy Joel song because even as it portrayed the downfall of New York City, it seemed to celebrate it with a sense of pride and nostalgia that can’t be fathomed with any other city. The song is narrated by a grandfather telling his grandchildren about the fictitious fall of NYC in the 70’s as he sits in his retirement home in Miami some forty years later. “Miami 2017” did something very few art forms are able to accomplish. It used a fictitious story to remind us of the things in reality that we really love and the things we might even die for.

“THEY SENT A CARRIER OUT FROM NORFOLK. AND PICKED THE YANKEES UP FOR FREE. THEY SAID THAT QUEENS COULD STAY. THEY BLEW THE BRONX AWAY. AND SANK MANHATTAN OUT AT SEA.”

"STREET SPIRIT (FADE OUT)" RADIOHEAD (1995)

You can get off to a fast start. You can sustain your opener with the main course, not filler. But can you end on a high note? Sometimes I wonder if recording a strong closer is the most difficult thing to pull off when it comes to album rock. When it comes to the cream of the crop in music, I can think of more strong openers than strong closers. Nonetheless, I still have my favorites which I’ll be featuring on Mental Jukebox all month.

The Bends has stood the test of time as my favorite Radiohead album mainly because of its collection of muscular, guitar-driven bangers. They seem to come relentlessly one after another. “Planet Telex”. “The Bends”. “Bones”. “Just”. “My Iron Lung”. “Black Star”. And “Sulk”. But by shifting down the gears, the quiet wallow of “Street Spirit” was an anthemic closer on an album full of monster riffs. And it’s probably my favorite Radiohead song.

“Street Spirit” is a slow, meandering downward spiral. It’s a song that you cannot escape from. It sucks you in with its cascading arpeggios on guitar and symphonic whole notes hovering over you on synthesizer. The pain and emotion can be felt in every note Yorke sings. The lyrics, gripping yet not fully understandable. The music, overtly chilling and isolating. The sequence, perfection. “Street Spirit” was created to be the closer - on The Bends and on the band’s set lists.

“ROWS OF HOUSES, ALL BEARING DOWN ON ME. I CAN FEEL THEIR BLUE HANDS TOUCHING ME. ALL THESE THINGS INTO POSITION. ALL THESE THINGS WE'LL ONE DAY SWALLOW.”

"MYSTIC RHYTHMS" RUSH (1985)

You can get off to a fast start. You can sustain your opener with the main course, not filler. But can you end on a high note? Sometimes I wonder if recording a strong closer is the most difficult thing to pull off when it comes to album rock. When it comes to the cream of the crop in music, I can think of more strong openers than strong closers. Nonetheless, I still have my favorites which I’ll be featuring on Mental Jukebox all month.

I could’ve picked any number of closing tracks from the immense catalog of this progressive and chronically misunderstood Canadian three-piece band. But I chose this one from Power Windows because this is an album that I always felt never got its due. Yes, Alex’s guitars take a bit of a backseat to Geddy’s synth musings. But to write off the album because of that is a grave mistake. These songs collectively are some of Geddy’s best melodies from the eighties. I love just about every one of them, especially “Grand Designs”, “Territories”, “Middletown Dreams” and the last track, “Mystic Rhythms”.

Rush purists might quickly dismiss this track which was also the second single from the album. Peart uses electronic drums here in favor of his “traditional” kit. Far from a banger or even a mid-tempo jam, “Mystic Rhythms” hovers in a slow, mystic haze. But the synthesizers, drums and Lifeson’s guitar riff that transition the song from the chorus into the second verse are some of the band’s best examples of power in restraint. It’s an acquired taste. I think I dismissed it when I first heard it, but it has become one of my favorite Rush anthems in more recent years.

“We sometimes catch a window. A glimpse of what's beyond. Was it just imagination Stringing us along?”

"ECLIPSE" PINK FLOYD (1973)

You can get off to a fast start. You can sustain your opener with the main course, not filler. But can you end on a high note? Sometimes I wonder if recording a strong closer is the most difficult thing to pull off when it comes to album rock. When it comes to the cream of the crop in music, I can think of more strong openers than strong closers. Nonetheless, I still have my favorites which I’ll be featuring on Mental Jukebox all month.

Much has been said of Dark Side Of The Moon in its entirety. It’s a prog rock magnum opus that blended elements of soul and rock so ingeniously. Much has also been said about the marquee tracks: “Brain Damage”, “Money”, “Us And Them” and, of course, “Time”. But every individual track on the album – and the sequence in which they appear – are equally important to the power that Dark Side yields. There may not be a better example of this than the closer “Eclipse”.

Thematically and musically, “Eclipse” is right where it needs to be on the album. Lyrically, it’s the closing statement on an album that relies heavily on its concept theme. It would seem to make little sense if it was placed in another track order. This is also the case in terms of its instrumental composition. It has the structure of a coda – the tail end of a musical masterpiece that seems irrelevant without the greatness that preceded it.

“And all that is now, And all that is gone, And all that's to come, And everything under the sun is in tune. But the sun is eclipsed by the moon.”

"XANADU" RUSH (1977)

I generally gravitate to the music first before the lyrics. But as a writer, I still marvel at well-spun verses and choruses. This month, I’m joining the music Twitter community in #SeptSongLyricChallenge

Day 11

Look, this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. I myself have never been much of a prog rock fanatic. The early Rush catalog and a couple of select Pink Floyd albums is about as far as I’ll go. One of the best from A Farewell To Kings is Xanadu. For the first five minutes, there isn’t a single lyric. Just instrumental sounds that evoke both nature and another dimension. But when the Neil Peart’s words finally come in, he blows us away. I never read the poem Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge which inspired the song. But I think Peart’s lyrics bring a certain sense of poetry itself in painting a picture of the attainment of immortality.

“I had heard the whispered tales of immortality. The deepest mystery from an ancient book, I took a clue. I scaled the frozen mountain tops of eastern lands unknown. Time and man alone. Searching for the lost, Xanadu.”

"RUNNING UP THAT HILL" KATE BUSH (1985)

One of the most powerful things about music is that it is the soundtrack of our lives. Fellow music fanatic Sharon Hepworth started a music challenge on Twitter for the month of July. Each day, fans around the world will select a song from their life and describe what it means to us. These are my songs. #SoundtrackToYourLife

Day 31

I have to end with this song. The 80’s are the most meaningful era for me musically. It was the decade that I first fell in love with music. And many of the bands from that era are just as relevant to me today as they were back then. It’s my decade. And so there’s no better song to capture what the decade has meant to me than one of my favorite Kate Bush anthems: “Running Up That Hill”, a song that has experienced a resurgence through its appearance on Stranger Things. Because, for me, the 80’s are always ripe for a resurgence in my life.

There’s a delicate beauty to much of Kate Bush’s catalog. But “Running Up That Hill” showed a brasher, more assertive side. On one level, we can simply enjoy the song’s most memorable elements like its echoey drum roll, its unusual synth hook off a Fairlight CMI and Bush’s powerful lyrics and vocals. On another level, the song’s impact on the future of music is something to behold. It’s because of Kate Bush songs like “Running Up That Hill” that we have artists like Tori Amos, St. Vincent, Bjork, Florence and countless others.

“Let me steal this moment from you now.”