For five short years, The Jam went on a tear, writing and recording seven albums in the studio. Toward the end of that journey, they ironically released “Start!”. It’s one of my favorite tracks from the band because it’s quintessential Jam. Attitude. Swagger. Rebellion. “Start!” flips musical convention on its head, making the guitar the accent to that irreplaceable bass line.
“For knowing that someone in this life loves with a passion called hate. And what you give is what you get.”
Musically, there are better tracks on this album. But lyrically, I think it’s the best. “Yahweh” feels less like song lyrics and more like an earnest prayer to Yahweh Himself. Not the polished, polite kind of prayer. The raw, honest kind. A faith that I can relate to. While this song didn’t get the acclaim that many other songs on this album got, I think it was an appropriate last track. I wonder if Bono was telling us this is how you dismantle an atomic bomb.
“Take these hands. Teach them what to carry. Take these hands. Don't make a fist. Take this mouth. So quick to criticize. Take this mouth. Give it a kiss.”
With “Carry On”, you get two songs in one. Because it’s the love child of two unfinished tracks that Stephen Stills fused together as CSN&Y searched for the right opening song to Deja Vu. The 2:10 mark comes at you out of nowhere, but has a live, jam band feel. It sounds more like a Part 2 than a transition. Whether you agree with their strategy or not, you can’t deny “Carry On” made for quite a potent entrance on an album known more for slow tempo classics. And the classic CSN&Y harmonies are epic on this one.
“The sky is clearing and the night has gone out. The sun, he come, the world is all full of love. Rejoice, rejoice, we have no choice but to carry on.”
This song brings me back. Listening to WDRE back in high school and making mixtapes for friends to prove that I liked more than just Billy Joel, Pink Floyd and Led Zepelin. Former Bauhaus frontman came out of the woodwork to lay down a track that ruled in its day. “Cuts You Up” may feel dated, but I think that’s what I love about it. It’s a near-perfect representation of the era and and an alternative rock relic that fans can look back at with a sense of nostalgia. Those were good, good times. And this was good, good music.
“Move the heart. Switch the pace. Look for what seems out of place.”
I wonder if Thom Yorke and the boys knew what they had when they made this. “Let Down”, like a lot of that early Radiohead, just keys into your emotions. It’s that innate, wallowing quality that makes Radiohead the perfect “rainy day” music. “Let Down” creates an epic emotional outpouring spun from a complex web of musical layers. A song that I can simply play over and over again.
“Transport, motorways and tramlines. Starting and then stopping. Taking off and landing. The emptiest of feelings. Disappointed people, clinging on to bottles. When it comes it's so, so, disappointing.”
“Heavy Metal Drummer” has the honor of being one of the best tracks on one of the best rock and roll albums from the last 20 years. It grabs you with that accessible melody, but draws you in with those delicious signature Wilco elements. My favorite aspect of the song though has always been that innocent and nostalgic look at summer. Love. Music. And KISS covers. Lots and lots of KISS covers.
“I sincerely miss those heavy metal bands. I used to go see on the landing in the summer. She fell in love with the drummer. She fell in love with another.”
I remember hearing “Pop Life” on New York’s airwaves back in the 80’s and thinking to myself, Purple Rain isn’t a fluke. This Prince dude was the real deal. An extraordinary songwriter and performer. “Pop Life” was a bit of a departure and a song chock full of ownable elements. That opening synthesizer, the slap and pop bass, Wendy and Lisa singing backup, and that seemingly random boxing match sound sample.
“What's the matter with your life. Is the poverty bringing you down? Is the mailman jerking you 'round? Did he put your million dollar check in someone else's box?”
One of the most underrated guitar players and one of the most understated songwriters of our time, Jose Gonzalez is one of my go-to’s whenever I want something chill. Over the last several years, my wife and I have made date nights out of his shows whenever he’s in town. “Every Age” is one of his simplest, but most reflective songs so far, and it’s one of my favorites because of those things. When life moves too fast, it’s good to have a song like “Every Age” reminding us to slow the hell down, take a deep breath and stay grounded with a larger perspective.
“Take this mind, take this pen. Take this dream of a better land. Take your time, build a home. Build a place where we all can belong.”
Still have no idea what this song is about. And it doesn’t matter. “Iceblink Luck” and much of the Cocteau Twins catalog, is quintessential pop music for me. Pop, not as in popular. Pop, as in fun and accessible. And that voice. No one sings with the ethereal qualities of Elizabeth Fraser.
“You're the match of Jericho. That will burn this whole madhouse down. And I'll throw open like the wall, not safe. More like a love that's a bottle of exquisite stuff.”
“Rock & roll” is one of my all-time favorite Velvet Underground songs. It’s about Lou Reed’s rabid love for music. Something I’ve always identified with. That borderline ridiculous attraction to music—more than film, books or any other creative expression. This was the b-side to “Sweet Jane”, which is a spectacular song in itself. But I think those two songs could’ve easily swapped sides with each other without anyone blinking an eye.
“There was nothin' goin' down at all, not at all. Then one fine morning, she puts on a New York station. You know, she don't believe what she heard at all. She started shaking to that fine, fine music. You know, her life was saved by rock and roll.”
A multi-instrumentalist who’s freakishly good at too many things. What can’t Tash Sultana do? Two of her best qualities—singing and guitar playing—are on full display on “Murder to the Mind”. But it’s the melody that shines. It’s infectious. It’s soulful. And it flows effortlessly. Tash delivers a mind-blowing performance of it in both the studio and live. “Murder to the Mind” also has one of my all-time favorite Tash guitar solos, with a little less than a minute to go on the track. It’s sonic and soul building off each other to the very last bar.
“Still wish sometimes in my life where I have to go to extremes. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see the beautiful world that was in front of you. And I was back and forth forgiveness, but I couldn't forgive myself. And I was screaming out for help.”
I’m not a huge Springsteen fan, but when I got introduced to Nebraska later in life, i couldn’t stop listening to it. They’re simple, honest portraits of Americana, which are hard to find in musical form these days. And “Atlantic City” is the epitome of it. Here, Springsteen shows us the humanity and vulnerability of a crime boss. It’s beautiful in its rawness, not in its polish. The original demo on a 4-track recorder is the final recording that we hear. With nowhere to hide, all we’re left with is the story and the performance.
“Well they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night. Now they blew up his house too. Down on the boardwalk they’re gettin’ ready for a fight. Gonna see what them racket boys can do.”
Bright Lights is the blueprint for New York post-punk revival. These songs literally rose from the ashes, written two months after 9/11 and released the year after. Every track on the album is a classic by now. And “The New” has always been one of my favorites. There’s more musical dimension and variation in there than in a typical Interpol song. “The New” unfolds like a post-apocalyptic piece of classical music, one movement after another. But it’s still Interpol doing Interpol.
“I wish I could live free. I hope it's not beyond me. Settling down, it takes time. One day we'll live together. And life will be better.”
For a hot minute, this was the greatest band alive. The Stone Roses never regained form after recording one of the strongest albums ever, but they deserve a ton of credit for inspiring a new musical era and helping to birth the Manchester scene. “I Wanna Be Adored” will forever be The Stone Roses’ anthem. It’s their entry into the rock world and perhaps it’s also a glimpse into what ultimately caused their demise. On every part of this track, there was an attitude that we haven’t heard before: Ian Brown’s insistent vocals, John Squire’s wailing guitar, Reni’s barrage of drums and that killer bass line from Mani that made bass guitar cool once again.
“I don't need to sell my soul. He's already in me.”
The best songs are the ones that invite us to be a part of their story. The great ones make us feel like we’ve transported to another place. I wonder if Vienna may have written “Transcontinental, 1:30AM” to be about a long-distance relationship and trying to make it work. But every single time I play it, without fail, I’m brought to a quiet and empty airport terminal in the middle of the night.
“I know we're transcontinental, 1:30 a.m. And there's not even a wire. Just a whispering in air. I know we're transcontinental, 1:30 a.m. But I'm here.”
Once in a while, a song of epic proportions comes along. And when we hear it, we know we won’t come across anything else this good again for quite a while. “Under Pressure” is one of those songs. In most collaborations, inevitably one artist’s form or style will dominate the other. What makes “Under Pressure” a rarity is that it’s 100% Queen and 100% Bowie at the same time. It’s two divergent classic rock powerhouses going back and forth, without stepping on each other’s toes. Flawlessly composed, performed and produced.
“Because love’s such an old-fashioned word. And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night. And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves. This is our last dance. This is ourselves under pressure.”
Google says there was an actual UFO sighting in Highland five years before this song was released. Whether you believe that or not, “Concerning the UFO” is probably Sufjan Stevens at the height of his state project. One of the most imaginative vignettes on the Illinois album, there’s a quiet wonder to every musical layer—vocals, piano, flute, recorder. If you play the song outside at night, the music might be enough to help you imagine what the sighting could’ve looked like if it actually happened.
“Then to Lebanon, oh, God! The flashing at night, the sirens grow and grow (Oh history involved itself). Mysterious shade that took its form (or what it was!). Incarnation, three stars. Delivering signs and dusting from their eyes.”
It’s the hard, fast stuff from Zeppelin that I love the most. But I always admired how the band slowed it down with craft for this third track on IV, sandwiched between the monster hits. “The Battle of Evermore” proved that they could excel without Page’s riffs. Without Bonzo’s thunderous beats. Without Plant’s signature howl. It’s like they took away their best elements to see what they could still come up with. “Evermore” would easily be the best song for many other bands. Even on an album packed with epic hard rock anthems, “The Battle of Evermore” was still too hard to overlook. Too hard to skip—on cassette, LP, CD, or however your ears took it in.
“Waiting for the eastern glow. The apples of the valley hold. The seas of happiness. The ground is rich from tender care. Repay, do not forget, no, no. Oh, dance in the dark of night. Sing to the morning light.”
These last few years, I’ve noticed that Depeche Mode has been performing a stripped down version of this song on tour with Martin Gore on vocals. But I think I’ll always love the original recording with Dave Gahan. This is the Depeche Mode that the true fans loved before the bandwagon joined in when Music for the Masses and Violator were released. “But Not Tonight” wasn’t a hit. It wasn’t a single. It was a lowly b-side. But it was an anthem for the era And as a former new wave kid, I believe it was one of their best.
“Just for a day. On a day like today. I'll get away from this constant debauchery.”
This is a timeless one. I’m not sure why Nick Drake’s music was never fully appreciated when he was alive. But I’m glad these recordings made their way to the world in the era of streaming. Nick was an old soul. He was 21 years old when he was penning songs like “Time Has Told Me”. But this song sounds like something someone twice his age would write. It has aged beautifully. Same goes for his entire catalog. As brief and prolific as it was.
“So I'll leave the ways that are making me be what I really don't want to be. Leave the ways that are making me love what I really don't want to love.”
