"CAROLINE" FLEETWOOD MAC (1987)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

Not even close to the iconic stature of Rumors, Tango in the Night still had its fair share of great music. At least 3 to 4 of the songs still appear on their live setlists. But my favorite track off the album isn’t “Little Lies”, “Big Love”, “Everywhere” or even “Seven Wonders”. It’s the less heralded “Caroline”.

It was written by Buckingham, and the gutsy vocals definitely put his performance in the spotlight. But what makes “Caroline” stand out to me from a solid track list is Mick Fleetwood’s percussion barrage. Less high hat. Less snare. Heavy on the floor tom and tom rack. Just deep, weighty drums that drive the rhythm and assert their presence throughout the song. It’s the one track on Tango in the Night that I can play over and over again.

“Caroline, time recedes with a fatal drop.”

"TUSK" FLEETWOOD MAC (1979)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

USC’s marching band made a cameo on “Tusk” to ensure this already percussion-driven track had all the power it needed to be exceptional at one thing only — which was to shove the rhythm into the foreground. On “Tusk”, a coherent melody is almost indecipherable. It was unlike any other Fleetwood Mac song, but it has become one of their most well-known songs and has frequently appeared on live setlists.

When I listen to “Tusk”, I think they’re talking about male-female dynamics. But the atmosphere screams jungles, warpaint, tribal dances around a fire and dead animals on a spit. Every percussion element plays an integral role in the ritual — from McVie’s bass line to the floor toms. But the most unusual aspect of the song is Mick Fleetwood’s use of non-musical objects. At one point, he’s literally slapping a leg of lamb with a spatula. “Tusk” is rough, raw and uninhibited, making a great song like Peter Gabriel’s “Games Without Frontiers” seem tame in comparison.

“Hooga haaga hooga. Don't say that you love me. Just tell me that you want me. Tusk.”

"GO YOUR OWN WAY" FLEETWOOD MAC (1977)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

One of the hardest tasks for a music blog is to pick just one song from Rumours. It’s generally regarded as one of the best albums ever produced, showing up on several Top Ten of all time lists. I’ll pick “Go Your Own Way” because, in many ways, it’s quite the opposite of my first #RockBlock entry for Fleetwood Mac, “Landslide”.

“Go Your Own Way” is ironically one of the band’s feel-good, upbeat anthems, even though it was an autobiographical account of the ending of Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks’ romantic relationship. Like many Fleetwood Mac songs, it has several things going for it that lurked beneath the surface. It wasn’t just a breakup song, it was a track that demonstrated the resilience of the band with everything that was going on personally. The end product was one of the best three-part harmonies from Buckingham, Nicks and Christine McVie — and one of my favorite Fleetwood Mac bass lines from John McVie.

“Loving you isn't the right thing to do.”

"LANDSLIDE" FLEETWOOD MAC (1975)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

The Fleetwood Mac fanbase is one of the most loyal and devoted followings you’ll ever come across. The affinity for this band’s immense canon of music cannot be denied. But for some reason, this band has often been overshadowed by others when it comes to my own musical preferences. Still, it hasn’t stopped me from noticing and appreciating what Fleetwood Mac has done for rock & roll music. As much as any other band, they have demonstrated a knack for nailing both instrumental complexity and simplicity. “Landslide” is a banner example of the latter.

Written by Stevie Nicks, “Landslide” unleashed the simple power of Nicks’ trademark rasp and gorgeous classical guitar-inspired instrumentation. It evokes themes that are pretty much the opposite of a physical landslide. Serenity. Peace. Control. But the most obvious quality of “Landslide” is perhaps the easiest one to overlook. In a band of several talented songwriters, vocalists and instrumentalists, egos were put aside to let Stevie Nicks be the spotlight. It’s a creative democracy that Fleetwood Mac has forged for more than 50 years.

“Well, I've been afraid of changin''cause I've built my life around you. But time makes you bolder. Even children get older. And I'm getting older too.”

"LIGHTS" INTERPOL (2010)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

By the time Interpol’s fourth album came out, I had begun to lose hope that they could recover to the stature of the first two albums. I don’t think they’ve been back at that level since. But “Lights” was an anomaly. It was epic. While Turn on the Bright Lights and Antics had the full body of work from top to bottom, “Lights” shined on a self-titled LP that lacked depth.

Like a good story, a good song has an arc. A good song doesn’t stay up at one level for 3 or 4 minutes and then call it quits. It goes somewhere. It takes you on a journey. This is the strength of “Lights”. Like so many Cure anthems before it, it builds with multiple layers, each coming in at their appointed time. It’s not a cheap pop thrill like “Barricade”, it instead envelopes you slowly and decisively.

“All that I see is peaceful eyes drawn away from me.”

"EVIL" INTERPOL (2004)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

As a band, Interpol peaked way too early. Antics is arguably their best recording, maybe only bested by the debut album Turn on the Bright Lights. Everything was clicking on Antics, which portrayed a band with an unbelievable confidence in their sound and aesthetic while others fell into their sophomore slump. There is no weak track on the album, but I think “Evil” had more ingenuity than all of them combined.

“Evil” is a masterpiece in music dynamics. It goes against the grain in just about every way. First, it begins with a killer bass line before anything else, a harsh reminder that this band is no longer the same without Carlos D. It speeds up, it slows down, it speeds back up. The pace catches you off guard. From the verses to the chorus, the guitar riffs come in before you expect them to slot in. The sound goes full, then goes stark, then flourishes once again. These dynamics give “Evil” intrigue and personality, making it extremely hard to grow old even after a hundred listens.

“It took a life span with no cellmate to find the long way back.”

"NYC" INTERPOL (2002)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

This might be the one song on Turn on the Bright Lights that continues to grow on me with every listen. Released about a year after 9/11, “NYC” gave us a glimpse of the city that was here before and after the attacks. It’s an unglamorous treatise on the alienation and the pressure to keep “turning on the bright lights”. It’s a side to New York City that’s surprisingly absent in music.

Paul Banks’ vocals are the centerpiece of the song, and they’re even more haunting than usual on “NYC”. It sounds like he’s singing beneath a subway grate, but the echo effect convinces you he’s not really there. Everything else on the track is subdued. This isn’t the edgy, rhythmic Interpol we know and love. The bass and drums are deliberately scaled back — and Daniel Kessler’s guitar riffs are quieter, using a variety of tamer strums and slides. “NYC” is a song with millions of different interpretations for each person that lives here — and it has taken on a whole new meaning during the pandemic.

“I had seven faces. Thought I knew which one to wear. I'm sick of spending these lonely nights training myself not to care.”

"PDA" INTERPOL (2002)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

There was a good four-year stretch when Interpol was my favorite band on the planet. They just got it. They wore my city on their sleeve. They recovered all the right elements of post punk. And they made me want to be in a band. Something I hadn’t felt since The Stone Roses. It all started with Turn on the Bright Lights and one of the lead singles, “PDA”.

Listening back to “PDA” again, I’m reminded how eerily similar Paul Banks’ catatonic vocals are to Ian Curtis. I remember how Daniel Kessler brought a new style of guitar grating that frankly no one else has gotten right — that strangely nauseating, yet entrancing pull. And I look back and marvel at the pulsating, rhythmic bed laid down by Carlos D. and Fogarino. “PDA” was decade-defining and a musical playground in the post-9/11 era.

“We have two hundred couches where you can sleep tight, grim rite.”

"STEP OUT" JOSE GONZALEZ (2013)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty was an odd movie about an odd character that happened to have a pretty stellar soundtrack. “Step Out” came out as a single, and isn’t found on any of Jose Gonzalez’s full-length albums. It’s probably one of his most well-known songs, but in many ways it’s wildly different than most of his catalog.

For the most part, Jose Gonzalez’ music tends to exist in a slow, meandering tempo universe. His songs are reflective and atmospheric, often relying on his vocals, incredible acoustic guitar skills, and not much else. In “Step Out”, Gonzalez literally steps out of his comfort zone, revving up the RPMs and bringing in a much fuller sound. The high intensity isn’t built up, it exists from the very beginning — with more instrumentation, uncharacteristically loud percussion and full background vocals. It's a great song that happens to sound nothing like a Jose Gonzalez song.

“House on fire, leave it all behind you. Dark as night, let the lightning guide you.”

"FREE" THE MARTINIS (1995)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

In just a little over a year, I believe this is already the fourth song from the Empire Records soundtrack that I’ve selected on Mental Jukebox. It’s one of my favorite soundtracks top to bottom, fueling both my imagination and my ambitions after graduating from college. Hearing The Martinis today I’m pleasantly surprised that “Free” has stood the test of time rather well.

The Breeders’ “Cannonball” was the more renowned Pixies side project. But The Martinis was no slouch in my mind. Pixies guitarist Joey Santiago teamed up with his then-wife to record two albums of unpretentious, melodic alt pop — a far cry from the pioneering two-minute musical rants from the Pixies. “Free” was easy to get, easy to listen to and easy to like.

“So free for the moment. Lost somewhere between the earth and the sky.”

"TAKE MY BREATH AWAY" BERLIN (1986)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

Those who grew up in the 80’s often wonder why their minds are filled with such useless song lyrics and movie lines. They have taken up permanent residence in our heads. The decade had numerous expressions of synth pop. It had countless ballads. And it had Top Gun. At the intersection of all of these was Berlin’s “Take My Breath Away”.

This was a song that made hearts race in the lovemaking scene far more than the fighter jet scenes. You fell for it whether you had reached puberty or not. Maybe only bested by The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” or U2’s “With or Without You”, “Take My Breath Away” is one of the 80’s greatest and most memorable ballads. The synth sounds were era-defining. The key change delivered gravitas. And the melody still stands as an icon of the decade.

“Haunted by the notion somewhere there's a love in flames.”

"LAYLA" DEREK & THE DOMINOS (1971)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

Martin Scorsese’s affinity for Eric Clapton’s music is undeniable — and The Goodfellas soundtrack contains two songs to prove it: Cream’s “Sunshine of Your Love” and Derek & The Dominos’ “Layla” — two of Clapton’s most well-known recordings. The former was a one-riff rocker. The latter was an epic piece consisting of two divergent movements.

“Layla” is a tale of two halves. The first half is driven by a siren-sounding guitar riff. It doesn’t ease in; it starts off in a hurry. Then halfway through the song, “Layla” downshifts its tempo and the piano takes over as lead instrument. Goodfellas featured this second movement prominently, which seemed to fit like a glove with the film. What makes “Layla” stand out among all the classics in rock history is that it’s like listening to two great rock songs, not just one.

“You've been running and hiding much too long. You know it's just your foolish pride.”

"LIFE DURING WARTIME" TALKING HEADS (1979)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

The Times Square soundtrack is filled with new wave classics and sleepers. It captures a colorful era in time through a colorful collection of songs. While I’ve never seen the movie, I’ve been drawn to the soundtrack. The inclusion of “Life During Wartime” shows a dimension of new wave that Talking Heads helped create, one that was equally reliant on song structure and instrumentation.

Talking Heads was always characterized by incorporating unusual combinations into the muisc. In “Life During Wartime”, they gave us a party music vibe, but also an art rock mentality at the same time. The short musical accents were countered by Weymouth’s steady, repetitive bass line. And at the helm, David Byrne went from smooth, melodic delivery to spastic outbursts. It was a musical crossroads of sorts, making it a perfect complement to the film about the crossroads of the world.

“This ain't no party, this ain't no disco, this ain't no fooling around.”

"SEA OF LOVE" CAT POWER (2000)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

In 2007, Juno made its mark with an endearing, coming-of-age film that put the story of an unplanned pregnancy at the forefront of cinematic culture. For its soundtrack, it leaned on the quirky, yet somewhat languid music of Belle & Sebastian, Kimya Dawson and others. And the banner song was Cat Power’s cover of Phil Phillips’ “Sea of Love”.

In 2000, Cat Power released an album of cover songs that proved she could create a new mood and aesthetic to just about any type of song. “Sea of Love” is probably the most well-known of the batch. The original lived in a barbershop quartet universe. It was full. It was grand. It had pacing. But when I listen back to Cat Power’s version, I’m struck by the starkness. It’s a simple, beautiful recording consisting only of Marshall’s vocals, lazy guitar strums and an aura of Saturday morning in bed with your favorite cup of coffee.

“Come with me my love to the sea. The sea of love.”

"NEW DAWN FADES" MOBY (1994)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

Heat is one of my all-time favorite movies. It’s not just a crime thriller. It’s the story of how hate and respect can co-exist. It’s a reminder that we might have a lot more in common with our enemies than we think. And few movies capture the dark, ominous and isolating side of L.A. as powerfully and as beautifully as Heat. Michael Mann needed an equally ominous soundscape, which he found in Moby’s cover of Joy Division’s “New Dawn Fades”.

While Joy Division’s original felt like it played out inside a dark cellar, Moby’s version sprawls across the L.A. cityscape. There’s an expansiveness felt in the performance and the production. The guitar riff soars up while the bass notes climb down. I can’t think of a better track to rear its head as Heat neared its climax.

“We'll share a drink and step outside. An angry voice and one who cried. We'll give you everything and more. The strain is too much, can't take much more.”

"THE END" THE DOORS (1967)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

“The End” is the kind of anthemic creation that many bands hope to achieve once in their career. The Doors did it right out of the gate. It has incredible depth and maturity in both the songwriting and instrumentation. And it came off their self-titled debut LP, an album that would be another band’s greatest hits compilation.

“The End” was well-suited for the storyline and mood of Apocalypse Now. It does things musically that no other song has done. In rock history, you’ll be hard pressed to find another track that makes tambourine and hi-hat hits not just integral pieces, but the driving force behind the music. “The End” is also a vocal playground - leading us in a hazy psychedelic fog with Morrison’s slow meanderings and vocal spats and outbursts. The irony of it all is that “The End” isn’t so much a final statement as it is a beginning of new ideas and expressions.

“The end of our elaborate plans. The end of everything that stands.”

"WHERE IS MY MIND?" PIXIES (1988)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

While it may not be in the upper echelon of my personal Pixies favorites, “Where Is My Mind?” has cultural implications that far outweigh the rest of this great band’s catalog. That’s mostly due to Fight Club, which was not just a terrific film, it was a cultural phenomenon. Controversial and influential, Fight Club ended with this song — and then continued on in public discourse and in private fight clubs across the U.S.

“Where Is My Mind?” is an introduction to the irresistible, jarring world of the Pixies. It’s a coming out party of loud-soft-loud dynamics that mimicked the cinematic rhythms of the movie and that would define the Pixies imprint on the music world. They weren’t Nirvana. Or Radiohead. Or Smashing Pumpkins. But they were the ones that influenced all three. We may not have any of those bands without this song.

“With your feet on the air and your head on the ground.”

"BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY" QUEEN (1975)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

There are two general types of movie soundtrack songs — one type falls into the background and plays a supporting role to the film, the other type pushes its way to the foreground and plays a central role. The latter are few and far between, and in the case of Wayne’s World, “Bohemian Rhapsody” is one of them. We all have the car scene as an indelible movie memory — for better or worse. The acting and singing accentuate what is so unusual about this Queen anthem.

Like many an opera, “Bohemian Rhapsody” runs the gamut of human emotion — as demonstrated by Freddie Mercury’s monumental vocal delivery and the band’s accompanying harmonies and instrumentation. Anger. Sadness. Fear. Gaiety. The list goes on. The trick’s on us. It’s not a song about bohemians after all. It’s a song about humanity. That’s why I love it.

“Mama, life had just begun. But now I've gone and thrown it all away.”

"PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, LET ME GET WHAT I WANT" THE SMITHS (1984)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

“Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want” has a history with movies. First, it was covered in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’s museum scene by The Dream Academy. Then nearly 25 years later, the original recording was one of two Smiths songs to appear on 500 Days of Summer, a movie that references the greatness of the band and the unique affinity its fans had with its music.

This is a very different side to The Smiths - musically and literally. It was the b-side to the more palatable “William, It Was Really Nothing”. But “Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want” eventually rose to become the more renowned song and got covered by numerous artists — everyone from Deftones to Hootie & the Blowfish. The lyrics have Morrissey’s drab, morose mindset written all over it. But what made the song stand out from the rest of The Smiths canon is the instrumentation. About a minute into the track, Johnny Marr trades out his jangly guitar riffs for an unexpected interlude with a mandolin. It didn’t rock. It wallowed.

“So for once in my life let me get what I want. Lord knows, it would be the first time.”

"DEAD MAN WALKING" DAVID BOWIE (1997)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

Few soundtracks have the cohesion felt and heard on The Saint. It took very different artists — Bowie, Moby, Duran Duran, Duncan Sheik, Daft Punk, The Chemical Brothers, among others — and somehow miraculously put them all together on the same sonic wavelength. There are a ton of great tracks on the album. But my favorite is still Bowie’s “Dead Man Walking”.

As we’ve seen throughout his career, Bowie evolved with each recording — always changing, but always distinctly Bowie. With “Dead Man Walking”, his music went into hyperdrive. There are a ton of delicious electronic layers to this thing. And while it works marvelously as an electronic symphony, something in me wants to pick out and isolate each individual layer. Each one captures the mood and frenetic pace of the film in its own unique way.

“And I'm gone through a crack in the past like a dead man walking.”