"SOUTH LONDON FOREVER" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2018)

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.

Four albums in, High as Hope was wiser. More reflective. More versatile. But still Florence through and through. The singing on the entire recording is exceptional, as Florence’s vocals only got better. And many of the songs on the album have an epic feel, each of them demonstrating a storytelling genius akin to Kate Bush’s catalog. One of my favorites is “South London Forever”.

It’s a song of tension. From prose to poetry. From whispering verse to powerful rant. From slow to fast, back to slow, back to fast again. “South London Forever” combines the spunk of her early recordings with a more mature voice and perspective. This underrated song — and the album at large — are helping Florence to live up to — and even exceed — those lofty Kate Bush comparisons.

“But everything I ever did was just another way to scream your name.”

"SHIP TO WRECK" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2015)

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.

After Ceremonials, four years passed without another Florence album. So when How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful made its way into the world, there were enormous expectations. And in my mind, the album overdelivered. It was not only better than Ceremonials, it was wiser. More mature. It was still distinctly Florence, but there was an evolution of her sound and approach without any doubt. And “Ship to Wreck” showed that she was becoming increasingly open to singing about her personal demons.

It’s a perfect opening track in many ways. We had waited so long for this, so on “Ship to Wreck” Florence wasted no time and got right to it. It starts off at full speed, barreling through to an opening verse about how we sometimes end up destroying the things we love the most. The irony of it all is that this song about self-destructive behavior is very much a vessel that Florence used to build up her influence in the music world.

“My love remind me, what was it that I said? I can't help but pull the earth around me to make my bed. And, my love remind me, what was it that I did?”

"NO LIGHT, NO LIGHT" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2011)

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.

Rock is rough. Rock is personal. Rock is emotional. “No Light, No Light” exhibits all of these things. There’s nothing delicate about it. In it Florence hits on themes that seem so core to the human condition, yet it’s a little surprising that no other artist has been able to articulate it as clearly and poignantly as her.

While Ceremonials isn’t one of my favorite Florence albums, it contains at least four or five of my favorite songs from the artist. What’s particularly impressive about “No Light, No Light” is the level of versatility and creativity from a then relatively young artist. One moment, she’s unleashing angst-ridden wailing, the next moment she’s barely whispering to us. Florence and music partner Isabella Summers concocted a melody and words that are easy to ingest. At a Florence show you’ll belt every single word, and then the very next day you’ll find that they’re all still there inside your head.

“It's so easy to sing it to a crowd. But it's so hard, my love, to say it to you, all alone.”

"COSMIC LOVE" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2009)

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.

Some music acts take a couple of albums to get going. Some start strong, but fizzle out just as quickly. Then there are a select few that begin with an overly impressive debut and only keep getting better. Florence + the Machine is one of the few acts that have been able to accomplish this impressive feat. Lungs isn’t just a superb debut album, it’s one of the greatest albums of the 2000s period. And “Cosmic Love” is arguably the best track on the LP.

Florence was one of the first acts to pioneer the use of the harp in indie rock — and “Cosmic Love” is a shining example. The harp ended up being the perfect instrumental choice. They’re like treble notes from the heavens. There’s a swagger and confidence in Florence’s vocals in this song — and throughout Lungs — that’s almost unfathomable for a debut recording. But as my #RockBlock series on Florence continues, we're reminded this is only the beginning.

“I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map, and knew that somehow I could find my way back.”

"DISINTEGRATION" THE CURE (1989)

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.

It’s ironic that one of the most underrated songs on Disintegration is the title track. The album is viewed as a masterpiece because it showcased several of the band’s most storied recordings. “Pictures of You”, “Fascination Street”, “Lovesong”, “Plainsong” and “Lullaby” all have a right to be considered among the band’s top ten songs. But somehow lost in the shuffle is a title track that’s arguably better than all of the aforementioned classics.

When I saw the band perform at NYC’s Madison Square Garden in 2016, they played over 30 songs that night and closed the first set with “Disintegration”. The gravitas of that performance said it all. “Disintegration” had all the maturity, depth and precision to feel like a band’s swan song. But instead of ending, The Cure just keeps going. They keep writing. They keep recording. They keep performing. It’s the great paradox of “Disintegration”, which becomes more apparent with each passing year.

“I never said I would stay to the end.”

"CATCH" THE CURE (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.

Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me was electric. There was a hop in the band’s step during this period, which resulted in a prolific treasure trove of songs that could’ve been enough for two full-length albums. It bore the band’s most popular song “Just Like Heaven” and also classics like “Why Can’t I Be You? and “Hot Hot Hot!!!”. But with “Catch”, the band wrote and recorded one of their most beloved songs among its loyal fanbase.

“Catch” showed a sleepy, yet whimsical side to the band that they explored only sparingly throughout their career. It was far lighter than the band’s dark goth roots. But its musical and lyrical undercurrents still felt core to the band’s identity, something that can’t be said of overly happy songs like “Friday I’m in Love”. “Catch” showcased the band’s sense of humor, that even in rejection you can still sorta laugh it off and not take yourself too seriously.

“Yes, I sometimes even tried to catch her, but never even caught her name.”

"PUSH" THE CURE (1985)

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 Head on the Door was the first album from The Cure that I loved from beginning to end. Each song seemed to flow perfectly into each other. They worked together brilliantly as a cohesive collection of songs, and the band seemed to strike the perfect sequence of tracks. “Push” was the mid-tempo connective tissue between the slow meanderings of “Six Different Ways” and the manic pacing of “The Baby Screams”. It’s also one of my favorite Cure songs of all time.

“Push” was written to thrive in the live performance. While the band is well-known for launching into long musical preludes prior to the first verse of many of their songs, “Push” literally pushed the band’s own limits, not introducing Robert Smiths’ vocals until after the 2:23 mark. This delay gave all the gorgeous, swirling layers of instrumentation the spotlight — from the percussion fills of new drummer Boris Williams to the guitar and synth attack from Smith, Tolhurst and Porl. More than 35 years after it was recorded, it still holds up.

“A smile to hide the fear away. Oh smear this man across the walls. Like strawberries and cream. It’s the only way to be.”

"CHARLOTTE SOMETIMES" THE CURE (1981)

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.

Trent Reznor once credited The Cure for creating a world for its fans. I think this recognition is spot on. Hearing a Cure album or going to a show feels a lot like you’re entering a different world from your own reality. Sometimes that world was dismal and full of despair. At other times it was a world of ecstasy. But it was always immersive and always a form of musical escapism. This is the most noteworthy thing about the early single “Charlotte Sometimes”.

The Cure was only three members at the time of this song: Robert Smith, Simon Gallup and Lol Tolhurst. But they had already begun to master the use of complex instrumental layering to create a mood and an enveloping environment for us to get lost in. “Charlotte Sometimes” felt like a glimpse into a dream state. When I look back at all the great Cure anthems — and there are plenty of them — the swirling synthesizers on “Charlotte Sometimes” is one of the most iconic keyboard-centered expressions in the band’s history.

“All the faces. All the voices blur. Change to one face. Change to one voice.”

"LEAVE THAT THING ALONE" RUSH (1993)

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.

While Counterparts represented a return to the guitar-heavy side of Rush, some of the songs contain reminders of the power guitar riff era of “Working Man” and the band’s first album. But one track, in particular, showed a new side to Rush. “Leave That Thing Alone” helped bring up the rear on the album and ushered in an evolved sound as one of their best instrumentals in several years.

“YYZ” and “La Villa Stangiato” still stand the test of time as two of Rush’s best instrumentals, and two of their best songs period. But I don’t think “Leave That Thing Alone” is that far behind them. Like a classic jazz recording, Lee, Peart and Lifeson all take turns in the spotlight. But for the most part, it’s Lifeson’s multiple riffs that assert the most presence, echoing Counterparts’ heavy emphasis on guitars. Hats off to Peart for being one of rock’s most talented lyricists, but tracks like “Leave That Thing Alone” make me wonder why Rush hasn’t composed and recorded more instrumentals.

"RED SECTOR A" RUSH (1984)

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.

Grace Under Pressure is rarely mentioned among Rush’s best albums. On the surface, it seems that other recordings were able to assert a more clearly defined musical agenda, including Fly By Night, 2112, Permanent Waves, Moving Pictures, Signals, among many others. But one could argue that Grace Under Pressure is where Rush started to put multiple musical explorations together unlike any other album. While Signals was almost exclusively synth, Grace Under Pressure is where Lifeson’s guitar-driven attack collided with Lee’s synth explosions. You can hear it loud and clear on “Red Sector A”.

Uncharacteristic of the band, there isn’t a single bass line to be found on this song. Instead Lee focused solely on creating calculating synth jams and singing the harrowing story of life inside a prison camp. Meanwhile, Lifeson and Peart led the attack on guitar and drums, building a soundscape that washes over you. What’s more profound beyond the music is the influence of “Red Sector A”, which bears a striking resemblance to the epic musicality of Muse.

“All that we can do is just survive. All that we can do to help ourselves is stay alive.”

"RED BARCHETTA" RUSH (1981)

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.

Growing up, 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”.

“Tom Sawyer” had attitude. “YYZ” had technique. “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”.

“Drive like the wind. Straining the limits of machine and man.”

"THE TREES" RUSH (1978)

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 an easy task picking just four Rush songs for a Rock Block. I could easily dedicate an entire month of Mental Jukebox to the band. But we all know Rush isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But it’s mine, and it has been mine since middle school. Rather than wax poetic about the brilliance of “YYZ” or “Freewill”, I’m going to skip ahead to the second and third upper echelons of Rush greatness, starting with “The Trees”.

“The Trees” was one of only two normal-length songs on Hemispheres. But regardless, it still had strands of prog rock throughout. The instrumental interludes and chord progressions were eclectic — and the lyrics are some of Neil Peart’s best, a story about trouble in the forest among the maples and oaks. Musically, The Trees covers a lot of ground in under five minutes, starting with a classical guitar introduction, shifting into hard rock Rush and then finishing off with a foreshadowing of the bass and guitar stylings that would later appear on Permanent Waves and, most noticeably, on Moving Pictures. Epic is an understatement.

“There is trouble in the Forest. And the creatures all have fled as the Maples scream ‘Oppression!’ And the Oaks, just shake their heads.”

"MEDITATION VI" SUFJAN STEVENS (2021)

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.

Out of the pandemic came Sufjan Stevens’ most prolific recording era. Everything that has happened in the world, in many ways, left him speechless, which led to a comprehensive instrumental project. Convocations is 49 tracks long, representing the five stages of grief. There’s a lot to sink your teeth into there – and a lot to reflect on. But the Meditation series is my favorite because it suited the ambient music approach so well — and I’m especially drawn to “Meditation VI”.

Without any vocals and lyrics, “Meditation VI” and the entire Convocations project takes out one of Sufjan's strengths: storytelling. But in doing so, he invites the listener to explore his emotions — and helps us to examine our own. Like a space-age hymn, “Meditation VI” ushers us into the presence of something far greater than ourselves. It’s the kind of recording that feels like it needs a visual to accompany it. And then we realize that the whole point is Sufjan is inviting his listeners to discover that image on their own.

"DEATH WITH DIGNITY" SUFJAN STEVENS (2015)

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.

Carrie & Lowell reminds me a lot of Beck’s Sea Change album. A recording born out of personal loss, featuring minimal instrumentation. Sufjan is often at his best with this stripped down sound, and this album was a return to those indie folk roots after a period of electronic exploration. As the opening track, “Death with Dignity” was a warm welcome back to Sufjan’s acoustic side.

I believe it will go down as one of Sufjan’s greatest songs. The musical scales are a vast playground for his melody. On “Death with Dignity”, his vocals climb, jump, soar, sit still and lay down, a self-contained metaphor for everything he must’ve been feeling after losing his mother. The song also proves that Sufjan never lost his acoustic touch. He was just off exploring other musical outlets there for a bit, like all the great music artists do.

“Spirit of my silence, I can hear you, but I'm afraid to be near you.”

"CASIMIR PULASKI DAY" SUFJAN STEVENS (2005)

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.

Sufjan Stevens’ state project is like Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia. It’s an unfinished masterpiece where we can only look to the individual elements of the greater vision in Sufjan's head for our own inspiration. We found that most prominently on the Illinois album, a collection of songs and clever musical interludes — with “Casimir Pulaski Day” right smack in the middle.

Sufjan has never been shy to explore Christian spirituality in his songs, which added a depth to Illinois. He made it far more than just an album about a state. On “Casimir Pulaski Day”, we hear references to bible study group prayers paired with Sufjan’s signature instrumentation. Evoking a Wes Anderson vibe, he made the banjo and the trumpet the stars — sucking out percussion entirely. Like many Sufjan Stevens’ acoustic recordings, it sounds like it’s being played in your living room.

“Tuesday night at the Bible study, we lift our hands and pray over your body. But nothing ever happens.”

"ALL THE TREES OF THE FIELD WILL CLAP THEIR HANDS" SUFJAN STEVENS (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.

Seven Swans isn’t just one of my favorite Sufjan Stevens albums, it’s one of my favorite albums period. It’s hard to come across another recording that’s as reflective, spiritual, melodic and personal. As the opener, “All the Trees” became an altar call for a new, pioneering musical expression.

The unique sound of “All the Trees” and the entire Seven Swans album is a musical paradox. It takes the banjo — an instrument typically used to accentuate energy, fast tempos and a sense of celebration — and turns it on his head. Sufjan used his slow, meandering banjo strums to create an aura of meditative reflection and slow down the tempo to a near halt. It’s not just about a spiritual experience. It’s a spiritual experience in itself.

“I am joining all my thoughts to you. And I'm preparing every part for you.”

"LOVE AND ANGER" KATE BUSH (1989)

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.

From my middle to high school years, I was fortunate to catch the end reaches of WDRE’s radio waves soaring across Long Island Sound. WDRE was my gateway to great music beyond the obvious artists. Where I grew up, it was easy to play Billy Joel, Zeppelin, the Dead, GnR and U2 to death. But no one was pointing me to Kate Bush. No one except my British cousin and WDRE. There was a four-year studio absence between Hounds of Love and The Sensual World, but when “Love and Anger” hit the airwaves, it was like Kate Bush made up for all that lost time overnight.

Bush has stuck with many of the same recording musicians over the years. Such was the case with “Love and Anger” where Bush enlisted David Gilmour to play guitar. Gilmour noticed her talent early on before she signed with a record company. He ended up paying for a few of her demos. And he has also let his producer mind and guitar playing abilities on various Kate Bush recordings over the years. In “Love and Anger”, we hear Gilmour’s distinct soaring riffs combined with the maturation of Kate Bush’s voice from less whimsical to more wise.

“Looking for a moment that'll never happen. Living in the gap between past and future.”

"THE BIG SKY" KATE BUSH (1985)

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.

Hounds of Love contains some of my favorite songs of all time. Collectively they represented a vibrant evolution of Kate Bush’s music. It had many parallels to So, the album from her longtime collaborator Peter Gabriel that came out the very same year. What Hounds of Love — and “The Big Sky” in particular — did was beat her peers at their own game. She made pop better and more progressive.

“The Big Sky” is vast, grand and full, riding on the back of that relentless bass slap. It rocked a lot more than much of Kate’s previous catalog, but the vocals and the epic instrumental arrangements were still a nod to her musical past. “The Big Sky” is simultaneously a great introduction to the world of Kate Bush and a great example of her musical versatility.

“They look down at the ground. Missing but I never go in now. I'm looking at the big sky.”

"SUSPENDED IN GAFFA" KATE BUSH (1982)

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.

Listening to a Kate Bush track feels less like pressing ‘play’ and more like pulling a book off a shelf and diving in. Her songs are stories put to music. Like an exquisitely crafted musical. In 1982, the music world was enamored with synthesizers. But with “Suspended in Gaffa”, Bush went in a completely different and unexpected direction than her peers.

She chose the mandolin and synclavier instead of synths. Opted for stick hits instead of snare hits. And crafted a story about someone catching a glimpse of God. The melody makes the vocals a musical feat as there are barely moments for Bush to breathe in between certain lines. “Suspended in Gaffa”, in many ways, is a divine encounter — from its gripping storytelling to its musical ingenuity.

“I won't open boxes that I am told not to. I'm not a Pandora.”

"ARMY DREAMERS" KATE BUSH (1980)

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.

To enter Kate Bush’s world is to have one foot stepping back into history and one foot firmly planted in the future. It’s the way she straddles the role of historian and pioneer that makes her so unique and respected in music circles. The fact that she was commercially successful in England with several hit singles tells you how much more sophisticated fans and critics are on the other side of the pond. Because these songs, including “Army Dreamers”, are not exactly the most accessible things for your ears.

Listening back to “Army Dreamers”, I’m struck by the fact that there is nothing contrived about this music. Nothing else sounds like it. Kate Bush didn’t merely write music lyrics, she wrote a post-war epic. She didn’t merely record a rock song, she composed a musical masterpiece. She showed us another way beyond synths and electric guitars, making magic out of mandolins and bodhrans.

“The weather warmer, he is colder. Four men in uniform to carry home my little soldier.”