"AN HONEST MISTAKE" THE BRAVERY (2005)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

These guys were from my hometown. And they say this about New York City: if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere, Well, that certainly worked out for The Bravery. They started out as scrappy, hard-working musicians. Handing out CDs, playing in small clubs and plastering posters all over the Lower East Side. They eventually earned a residency at Arlene’s Grocery, produced an EP and opened for Yeah Yeah Yeahs. They hit their stride during what was probably the height of the post-punk revival scene in the city. Fortunately, global success didn’t take too long to find the band — and a big reason for that is “An Honest Mistake”.

It had elements of Interpol’s dark edges, The Killers’ new wave vengeance, and The Strokes’ garage rock sound. That opening synth hook is irresistible. It pulls you in, and before you can try to release yourself from it, another synth hook layers on top of it with this soaring motif. We’re now sandwiched by two slabs of reimagined 80’s synth pop. But the guitar solo at the 3:10 mark give the song some extra muscle just as the track is about to wrap up. It ensured “An Honest Mistake” was just as much a rock song as it is a dance song. However you want to categorize it, this wonderfully catchy song is one that I will forever associate with 2005.

“Don't look at me that way. It was an honest mistake.”

"MY GIRLS" ANIMAL COLLECTIVE (2009)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

For several decades, various bands have often been compared to the creme de la creme. Are you progressive enough like early Floyd? Can you combine various genres like Hendrix? Can you write melodies and experiment instrumentally like The Beach Boys? The latter comparison seems to be one of the most common ones. Seems like the minute Pet Sounds was released, critics wanted to see who could match it or even exceed it. Merriweather Post Pavilion certainly has earned a right to be in those discussions. It’s like a modern-day Pet Sounds and “My Girls” is Animal Collective’s own “That’s Not Me”.

The song opens with an audio sample from the Cassini-Hyugens spacecraft which explored Saturn, its rings and its moons. From there, the iconic and mesmerizing synth hook trickles in like a waterfall. The percussion elements are sparse, but powerful with every hit. The primary strength of “My Girls” is undoubtedly the vocals. The verses are sung in rounds. The buildup into the chorus features these background falsetto blips. And the chorus is anchored by Panda Bear and Avey Tare’s harmonies. A song about family and settling down, “My Girls” is experimental to the bone, as evident in its instrumentation, vocals and song structure. It is truly deserving of the lofty Pet Sounds comparisons it drew.

“I just want four walls and adobe slabs for my girls.”

"MELODY OF YOU" SIXPENCE NONE THE RICHER (2002)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

One of the more underrated original songwriters of our time is Matt Slocum of Sixpence None The Richer. It’s a bit unfortunate that most people recognize their covers more than their originals, most notably their renditions of The La’s “There She Goes” and Crowded House’s “Don’t Dream It’s Over”. But I’ve always found their original songs to be much more intriguing. Slocum’s songwriting and arrangements and Leigh Nash’s whimsical vocals make for one of the most unique pairings in pop. If you’re not that familiar with it, a good place to start is “Melody of You”.

Divine Discontent has the feeling of a comeback album, even though their previous album release was their most successful. The five-year period in between albums certainly contributed to that feeling, but songs like “Melody of You”, “Breath Your Name”, “Tonight” and “A Million Parachutes” felt like they came from a band on a mission. The former is my favorite because of how it uses a 25-piece orchestra to create something deeply personal and intimate. “Melody of You” feels more like a love letter than a string-infused anthem.

“I only write variations to sooth the mood. A drink that will knock me down to the floor. A key that will unlock the door. Where I hear a voice sing familiar themes then beckons me weaves notes in between.”

"COSMIC LOVE" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2009)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

When Florence first came onto the scene her sound was so incredibly polished, confident and distinct it felt like she had already been at it for years. Just look at Lungs, probably one of the greatest debut records of all time, greatness that most artists hope to achieve even just once in their career. For me, that greatness all starts with Florence’s voice. No one else sounds like her. She cites Kate Bush, Stevie Nicks and Siouxsie Sioux as influences, but she has her own unique sound. She sings like a siren, howling with this incredible ferocity one moment and singing laser-sharp falsetto interludes effortlessly in another. There isn’t a mediocre track on Lungs, but one of the strongest, in my opinion, is “Cosmic Love”.

When I play it, I feel like I have left this universe. Florence + The Machine was one of the first acts to pioneer the use of the harp in rock — and on “Cosmic Love” the angelic stringed instrument delivers these gorgeous treble notes from the heavens. It’s enough to transport you. But Florence’s vocals took us even further, soaring and swirling its way through space. The music was otherworldly, the melody was divine and the lyrics were transcendent.

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

"CONCERNING THE UFO SIGHTING NEAR HIGHLAND, ILLINOIS" SUFJAN STEVENS (2005)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

Sufjan Stevens’ Illinois album is one of my favorite records from the 2000’s. Combining Stevens’ unique storytelling ability, orchestral musicality, vulnerable exploration of Christian themes and the promise of a state project (which turned out to be a joke), Illinois had this sense of gravity and boldness that’s missing on so many albums of that era. It wasn’t trying to be great. It just was. A perfect example is the understated and subtle opener, “Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois”.

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. The song welcomes you into the moment. One of the most imaginative vignettes on the Illinois album, there’s a quiet wonder to every musical layer—vocals, piano, flute, recorder. Play it outside at night and the music might be just enough to help you imagine the sighting.

“Incarnation, three stars delivering signs and dusting from their eyes.”

"MER DU JAPON" AIR (2007)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

Air got its leggings from soundtracks off of three Sofia Coppola films: The Virgin Suicides, Lost in Translation and Marie Antoinette. They are chill-out at times and dance floor-ready at other times. But all of their musical output is subtle, intricate and sophisticated no matter which end of the electronic spectrum they choose to lean into. Pocket Symphony is one of my favorite Air albums because it adds an unexpected layer of traditional Japanese instruments beyond the drum machines, synthesizers and assorted percussion instruments that are part of Air’s known arsenal. My favorite track off the album is “Mer Du Japon”.

Rather appropriately, many Air tracks create a sense of buoyancy and depth. On “Mer Du Japon”, it feels like we’re cruising along the surface of the Japanese Sea at breakneck speeds in one moment, diving deep toward the sea floor in another, and gasping for air in another. The koto, a Japanese floor harp, joins forces with the shimmery synth waves, pristine piano arpeggios and menacing bass line. The sound of waves sashaying along the shoreline can be faintly heard toward the end, signifying that our little trip has also come to an end. We have reached land.

“J'en perds la raison dans la mer du Japon.”

"WHATSERNAME" GREEN DAY (2004)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

Before American Idiot, I had nearly written off Green Day. They had some solid songs over the years, but they all felt like these one-off expressions that were great for just a moment in time. American Idiot changed all that. It was the antithesis of everything that turned me away from the band. As a concept album, American Idiot presented the narrative of a disillusioned teenager following 9/11 and the Iraq War. These weren’t two-minute punk rock songs. It was a story. And the songs were often combined into longer pieces, taking on the form of an opera, not a traditional rock album, which closed with the oft-overlooked “Whatsername”.

American Idiot is full of great moments, like “Holiday”, “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”, “Wake Me Up When September Ends” and the title track. But “Whatsername” had this wit and charm to it that the other tracks didn’t. It’s a reminder that the simplest of chord progressions can still do powerful things in music when other dynamics within a song are shifting. It had this quiet-loud dynamic thing happening that launched the song out of its romantic daze into the bridge, almost out of nowhere. “Whatsername” is a modern-day punk rock song because it captured all these complicated states: anger, despondence, regret.

“The regrets are useless in my mind.”

"MAP OF THE PROBLEMATIQUE" MUSE (2006)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

I think the reason why Muse has gained a massive following is because their music touches on so many different genres. Genres that usually have no business being associated with each other. Muse has used electro pop, prog rock, metal, classical, industrial rock and other musical expressions as springboards to create these epic-sized sonic statements for more than 25 years. I’ve never been to a Muse concert, but I can imagine how it might push one’s senses into overdrive. “Map of the Problematique” is a case in point.

The Black Holes and Revelations album was supercharged with some of Muse’s most renowned tracks, including ”Knights of Cydonia”, “Supermassive Black Hole” and “Starlight”. This made a song like “Map of the Problematique” drift slightly under the radar. It has drawn many comparisons to “Enjoy the Silence” in terms of musical arrangement and chord progressions. And Bellamy has unabashedly cited Depeche Mode as an influence on the song. The end result, however, I think it is much more epic than the aforementioned synth pop anthem. “Map of the Problematique” highlighted what Muse does best: effortlessly smashing genres together and eliciting an emotional response from a cerebral theme.

“Life will flash before my eyes. So scattered almost I want to touch the other side.”

"HURT" JOHNNY CASH (2002)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

This is already the third time I’m featuring “Hurt” on Mental Jukebox. It’s one of my all-time favorite cover songs. When I think of all the great cover songs from the last 25 years, some of the best ones are adored and revered by the original writers and recording artists. Johnny Cash’s rendition of Nine Inch Nail’s “Hurt” is one of those songs. Of Cash’s rendition, NIN frontman Trent Reznor famously said, “That song isn’t mine anymore.” The crazy thing is it’s true.

Cash elevated “Hurt” into the stratosphere. Powerful. Gripping. Even more haunting than the original, which seems like an impossible task, as Nine Inch Nails already created a masterpiece with the original. Recorded the year before he died, this was like Cash’s swan song. There’s even a faint percussion element in the background of the recording that sounds like a clock ticking. Time was literally passing by. The days were numbered for Cash. The most impressive thing about the cover is that he took emotions and thoughts so deeply personal to Reznor and made them his own. Toward the end of his life, this recording represents one of Johnny Cash’s crowning achievements.

“What have I become? My sweetest friend, everyone I know goes away in the end.”

"TO BUILD A HOME" THE CINEMATIC ORCHESTRA (2007)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

Music discovery is often happenstance. At times, we can find music when we’re proactively searching for it. But most of the time, it’s about being in the right place at the right time with the right people when a song comes on and our minds are blown. A lot of the music I’ve discovered is thanks to the recommendations of friends and coworkers. One coworker, in particular, introduced me to The Cinematic Orchestra and “To Build a Home”. He called it the most beautiful song in history. And I don’t think that enormous claim is very far from the truth.

The track never charted in the U.S. or in the U.K. But it has become larger than life in many ways. Ironically, it has played a background role, serving as the soundtrack in countless television soundtracks, most notably in a gut-wrenching scene from This Is Us. It was also featured in a figure skating performance at the 2018 Winter Olympics. The irony is that it has been thrusted into the foreground, becoming intertwined with these TV show scenes and Olympic performances. It’s one of those songs that has the power to bring everything else around it to a standstill. Most beautiful song in history? I can get agree to that.

“Out in the garden where we planted the seeds there is a tree as old as me. Branches were sewn by the color of green ground had arose and passed its knees.”

"EVERYBODY'S CHANGING" KEANE (2004)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

I wrote earlier about the prolific musical era of 2004. It was a year when established bands like Interpol and Modest Mouse flexed their recording muscles, while up-and-coming bands seemed to make a splash almost instantly. The Killers and Keane were two of the latter. Keane, in particular, felt like a band that was on top of the world for a brief moment in time. I don’t think the follow-up record came close, but that debut album is a thing of perfection. Each song seemed to be encased in a different emotional state that represented a hope or a fear, from the nostalgic bliss of the album opener “Somewhere Only We Know” to the passionate flurry of the closer “Bedshaped”. And track 5 was my favorite: “Everybody’s Changing”.

This was a song written before Keane exploded on the scene. A song about self-doubt and the fear of not making it while everyone else has moved on with their lives. It was an incredibly catchy song with a musical paradox: the lyrics were drenched in fear yet the melody exuded hope. As well as any other rock song, “Everybody’s Changing” found a way to use the piano to negate any need for guitar. It didn’t sound weak, empty or unrock & roll. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

“Trying to make a move just to stay in the game. I try to stay awake and remember my name. But everybody's changing, and I don't feel the same.”

"I'M THE MAN WHO LOVES YOU" WILCO (2001)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

It’s hard to believe it’s already been 20 years since the release of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Released just one week after 9/11, the landmark album ushered in a new era for Wilco, one where they shed their alt country roots and embraced a new experimental rock bent that earned the ears of many music listeners, including mine. Songs like “Jesus, Etc.”, “Kamera” and “Heavy Metal Drummer” are timeless favorites of mine. But one track, in particular, from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot felt like the definitive statement of this new period of creativity: “I’m the Man Who Loves You”.

Like a cross between Jimi Hendrix, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and a mad scientist, this track felt more like a dangerous experiment than a song. Haywire guitar interludes and horn blasts headlined a series of instrumental cacophonies, which became trademark effects of Wilco. “I’m the Man Who Loves You” sounds like it was born inside a factory that maybe didn’t pass all its inspections. It’s a reminder that often the best rock music out there is the kind that pushes limits and creates moments that we never saw coming.

“If I could you know I would.”

"IMITOSIS" ANDREW BIRD (2007)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

I didn’t discover the world of Andrew Bird until he was about eight studio albums into his brilliant career. It might be one of my deepest musical regrets. That was a lot of time lost that I could’ve spent pouring through his prolific canon, dissecting album after album, all while whistling along in unison. I missed a ton of shows that would’ve allowed me to hear live renditions of some of his earlier material. Luckily, however, when I caught Bird at Terminal 5 in 2016 I got to hear him play this beauty of a track, “Imitosis”.

Bird’s music covers a wide range of genres, but his base has always been the use of a variety of stringed instruments with a folk rock demeanor. The other more well-known track off of Armchair Apocrypha was “Plasticities” which showcased Bird’s more experimental rock tendencies. This made “Imitosis” stick out like a sore thumb because, if anything, it was a tango. The bass, drums, guitar and violin do what they can to recreate a hot summer night in Argentina. But the ringer was the Glockenspiel, the instrument that gave “Imitosis” its playful character and soul.

“What was mistaken for closeness, was just a case of mitosis.”

"SOMEBODY TOLD ME" THE KILLERS (2004)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

When Hot Fuss first came out, it felt like a strange trip back to the 80’s. It didn’t simply borrow synth pop influences, it unabashedly took on the form of a new wave album. In doing so, it made the album irresistible to me. The songs rocked hard and took on giant slabs of synth jams without holding back. I have memories of riding shotgun in my friend’s car with Hot Fuss blasting out his speakers as we played air keys on his dashboard and did our very best Brandon Flowers when “Somebody Told Me” came on.

“Mr. Brightside” might be the track that everyone remembers and the one that has had the longer shelf life, due to the fact that it’s been covered by everyone, including indie bands and football marching bands alike. But “Somebody Told Me” rocked like it was on a mission to blow your mind. It’s hard to imagine songs that rocked harder with synthesizers as the main instrument. The lyrics were about a boy pining for a girl. But the hooks sounded like they came from outer space, like the soundtrack to an alien invasion. “Somebody Told Me” had this musical paradox built into it — one of worldly romance and otherworldly musicality.

“Breakin' my back just to know your name.”

"THE GOLDEN AGE" BECK (2002)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

For an artist who’s known for his experimental approach and use of samples, I could never quite explain why Beck’s purist and slow-moving Sea Change was my favorite album of his by far. I just liked it. Sea Change feels like the perfect albium for some days. As a New Yorker, I don’t mind its slow pace one bit. In fact, I’ve come to crave it on a semi-regular basis. It was an album that was birthed out of Beck’s breakup with a longtime girlfriend. The dude was miserable, but the beauty and introspection shined through the misery. Every track was spot on, but today my pick is “The Golden Age”.

Is it a wake-up call or a lullaby? Maybe it’s both. “The Golden Age” is less about self-loathing and more about self-discovery. It reminds us that sometimes it’s okay to not be okay. The irony is that “The Golden Age” and the Sea Change album at large, is some of Beck’s finest work. He was totally dialed in to the melody and the key instrumental themes — with no samples, distortion or Dust Brothers production maneuvers to hide behind. “The Golden Age” was just another great example and reminder that you can create a wonderful song simply by picking up an acoustic guitar and singing from the heart. They’re just timeless methods.

“These days I barely get by. I don't even try.”

"ISLANDS" THE XX (2009)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

In 2009, the XX’s debut album was released, introducing a sound that seemed to fill a clear void. The music was minimalist in every way. Almost shockingly minimalist. Sparse in instrumentation, the melodies thrived in space. XX mastered pregnant pauses and the power of stripped-down riffs and notes. And the album cover reflected back this stark simplicity. Looking back at the album release, “Intro” was probably their most well-known song. It was the track that caught my attention, but “Islands” was the track that made me a believer.

“Islands” is an unassuming track that reeled me in with its simple groove and quiet strength. It was never a threat to be over-produced. There’s a tremendous confidence in how it was composed, clearing the way for Romy Croft and Oliver Sim to deliver the vocals. Like lovers lying in bed whispering sweet nothings, “Islands” had an unexpected vocal approach, treating it like words between two lovers who have sworn loyalty. They’re singing to each other, not to us. The guitar and synth interludes remind us that skill and complexity aren’t everything. Sometimes, the best musical arrangements place an equal emphasis on instrumentation and space. “Islands” is all the proof you need.

“Spend my nights and days before searching the world for what's right here.”

"C'MERE" INTERPOL (2004)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

There aren’t many years that were as rich and prolific in terms of music recordings as 2004. That year, we saw key studio releases from Modest Mouse, TV on the Radio, Franz Ferdinand, Keane, Broken Social Scene, The Killers, Interpol, among others. Interpol’s Antics is my favorite album from that year. While the debut record Turn on the Bright Lights may have carried greater significance and helped establish the New York City post-punk revival scene, Antics has always been my go-to. It is Interpol absolutely and resolutely locked in from beginning to end. There’s a confidence in every note — and one of the tracks that led the charge was “C’Mere”.

“C’Mere” might be one of Daniel Kessler’s most versatile guitar showcases from the Interpol catalog. The hooks just keep coming, barely coming up for air as Kessler launches into one post-punk riff after another. Together, Carlos D and Fogarino formed one of the decade’s boldest and brashest rhythm sections. Beats that started, stopped and stuttered their way along, bar after bar. On “C’Mere” they seem to be surfing on a tidal wave. Meanwhile, Paul Banks gave this sinister vocal performance that more than made up for forgettable lyrics. The vocals truly captured the haunting aura of Antics, like a modern day Ian Curtis.

“It's way too late to be this locked inside ourselves. The trouble is that you're in love with someone else.”

"JOEY" CONCRETE BLONDE (1990)

Each day in November, I’m revisiting a song from the 90’s — a decade that was a sorta coming of age for me. In that span, I experienced high school, college and my time as a young single guy in New York City. It was a decade of ups and downs, and the music never stopped playing during that span. It was always there with me. #30DaysOf90sSongs

1990 was an interesting year in music. Synth pop seemed to be having a late resurgence with acts like Electronic and Anything Box. Grunge was laying down its roots with Nirvana, Alice in Chains and others. And a new genre called shoegaze was taking shape off the heels of Cocteau Twins and new artists like Ride and Slowdive. But that same year, a simple, straight ahead rock song called “Joey” made its way onto the radio and I couldn’t get myself to stop listening to it.

I never got into Concrete Blonde as a band, but “Joey” might be my favorite song of 1990. It lived in this vanilla, mid-tempo world, but the lyrics were so personal and sincere. It’s a song about being in love with an alcoholic, but it turns out lead singer Johnette Napolitano was writing about her boyfriend Marc Moreland, guitarist for Wall of Voodoo. Like some of the best songs in history, “Joey” was able to go from a deeply personal song from Napolitano to a song that every listener could make its own. You didn’t have to be in love with an alcoholic to have that song mean something to you. That’s the power of the song.

“I know you've heard it all before, so I don't say it anymore. I just stand by and let you fight your secret war.”

"ACROBAT" U2 (1991)

Each day in November, I’m revisiting a song from the 90’s — a decade that was a sorta coming of age for me. In that span, I experienced high school, college and my time as a young single guy in New York City. It was a decade of ups and downs, and the music never stopped playing during that span. It was always there with me. #30DaysOf90sSongs

In my freshman year in college, I think I unconsciously surveyed everyone’s taste in music that I came across, focused mainly around my hall mates. The tastes were varied — from grunge feigns hooked on Nirvana to funk rock freaks who couldn’t get enough of the Chili Peppers to industrial rockers whose daily intake consisted of Skinny Puppy, Ministry and Front 242. But the one universal album that everyone seemed to play and revere was U2’s Achtung Baby. In college, it served as the great equalizer because there seemed to be something for everyone on that album, from the distortion-soaked banger “The Fly” to the quiet-loud dynamics of “Until the End of the World” to the pop-soaked and melodious “Mysterious Ways”. For me, the finest track was the second to last song on the album: “Acrobat”.

It may be one of the most overlooked tracks on the whole album, but I don’t know why. I saw somewhere that the band didn’t play it live until 2018. It certainly wasn’t a common U2 anthem, but what it had going for it were these great experimental elements. The time signature felt somewhat eccentric, but slightly reminiscent of the cadence that the band took for “Bullet the Blue Sky”. The eccentricity carries over on The Edge’s guitar work, from the sonic surges in the verses to those jaw-dropping cascading effects coming out of the chorus. I think what I appreciate most about “Acrobat” is that it’s a track that’s not reliant on a single, signature guitar riff. Instead, each hook seems to evolve and grow out of one other throughout the entire song.

“You know that your time is coming 'round, so don't let the bastards grind you down.”

"LIGHT FROM A DEAD STAR" LUSH (1994)

Each day in November, I’m revisiting a song from the 90’s — a decade that was a sorta coming of age for me. In that span, I experienced high school, college and my time as a young single guy in New York City. It was a decade of ups and downs, and the music never stopped playing during that span. It was always there with me. #30DaysOf90sSongs

One of my favorite bands from the 90’s shoegaze era is Lush. They made songs that I could get lost in. However, there was a sense of grounding that I felt in their catalog, even as the songs were resolutely ethereal and atmospheric. That grounding took the form of bass lines that stood clearly as rhythmic cornerstones and more pop-oriented melodies that you could sing along to a cappella. One of the clearest examples of these musical attributes is “Light From A Dead Star.”

As the opening track to the 1994 release Split, “Light From A Dead Star” consists of four key movements. The first one is a gorgeous overture that sounds like an orchestra tuning up before a shoegaze concerto. The second movement is a brief interlude before the song launches into the stratosphere, beginning like the opening bars to Depeche Mode’s “Black Celebration” before settling into a mid-tempo cloud of listlessness. The third movement is where the dead star illuminates at its brightest, riding on the rhythmic bed of Chris Acland’s drum kit and Phil King’s meandering bass lines. By the fourth movement, the light begins to flicker out, sounding like a star on life support. Absolutely frail and gorgeous.

“Don't listen when they say they wish I could stay. And now it's just too late to wish me back again.”