There have been a lot of great and/or memorable musical performances on late night television over the years - Elvis Costello beginning one song and then storming into "Radio, Radio" in December 1977, Patti Smith delivering a shattering performance of "Gloria" in April 1976. More recently, there were incredible performances from Kanye West and Kendrick Lamar on SNL, and Billie Eilish just last year.
But however you rank the greatest late night TV performances, this one certainly has to be near the top of the list:
I think this is what they mean when they talk about leaving it all on the stage. What makes the performance particularly notable is Letterman's reaction to it. He was nearing the home stretch of his legendary late night career by this point, and on most nights was so grumpy and/or disinterested that it was difficult to watch. But his visible joy following Samuel T. Herring's performance was in itself a joy to watch.
And well earned that joy was. This is a great song, plain and simple, and one of those songs that sounds as exciting and fresh on listen #100 (or 200, 500...) as it did on first listen.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #2 - "Seasons (Waiting on You)," Future Islands.
Showing posts with label Top 50 Songs of the Decade. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Top 50 Songs of the Decade. Show all posts
Sunday, May 17, 2020
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #3 - "Slow Burn," Kacey Musgraves
I've commented on this phenomenon elsewhere, but every now and then, you hear a song for the first time and it just takes your breath away. The chills run up your spine, and you just want to keep listening to the song over and over. And when it's the first song on an album, sometimes it takes a while just to get to the second song.
"Slow Burn" is such a song. When I heard it for the first time, I thought that Kacey Musgraves had captured the Holy Grail, creating a song that was not really country, not really pop, but transcended every category one could conceivably assign to it and reach a level that this artist - great as she has been over the course of three albums - had yet to achieve.
She will be around for a generation. Let's just hope there is a music industry waiting for her when we emerge on the other side.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #3 - "Slow Burn," Kacey Musgraves.
"Slow Burn" is such a song. When I heard it for the first time, I thought that Kacey Musgraves had captured the Holy Grail, creating a song that was not really country, not really pop, but transcended every category one could conceivably assign to it and reach a level that this artist - great as she has been over the course of three albums - had yet to achieve.
She will be around for a generation. Let's just hope there is a music industry waiting for her when we emerge on the other side.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #3 - "Slow Burn," Kacey Musgraves.
Saturday, May 02, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #4 - "Ya Hey," Vampire Weekend
Usually the first thing that grabs me with a song is the music, but on this one it was these lyrics, near the end of the song:
Outside the tents
On the festival grounds
As the air began to cool
And the sun went down
My soul swooned as
I faintly heard the sound
Of you spinning "Israelites"
into "19th Nervous Breakdown"
A little explanation be in order. First of all, I've loved both "Israelites" and "19th Nervous Breakdown" since I was about 9 years old. Second, I love to experiment with transitions between songs - so hearing that snippet was like giving candy to a baby.
There is also something about the easy lilt of this song that is irresistible. For me, at least.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #4 - "Ya Hey," Vampire Weekend.
Outside the tents
On the festival grounds
As the air began to cool
And the sun went down
My soul swooned as
I faintly heard the sound
Of you spinning "Israelites"
into "19th Nervous Breakdown"
A little explanation be in order. First of all, I've loved both "Israelites" and "19th Nervous Breakdown" since I was about 9 years old. Second, I love to experiment with transitions between songs - so hearing that snippet was like giving candy to a baby.
There is also something about the easy lilt of this song that is irresistible. For me, at least.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #4 - "Ya Hey," Vampire Weekend.
Sunday, April 19, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #5 - "Songs She Sang in the Shower," Jason Isbell
Well, it's been 41 days since my last post. Has anything happened during that time?
This isn't the place to write my thoughts about "the new normal," but that will be coming eventually. For now, to paraphrase Bruce Springsteen from his legendary 1978 show at the Roxy, "Y'all are just gonna have to settle for some rock 'n roll."
It's pretty funny to think that the original plan was to finish this Top 50 list before the New Year began. But better late than never, a wise sage once said, so let's embark on the final stretch.
Clocking in at #5 is the estimable Jason Isbell, one-time Drive-By Trucker and current leader of a great band of his own, the 400 Unit. The band's name alone is evidence of Isbell's humor, "400 Unit" being the nickname for the psychiatric ward of Eliza Coffee Memorial Hospital in Florence, Alabama. There may have been a time when Isbell wondered whether he might end up there himself, after having been fired by the Truckers for being a mean and angry drunk and by all accounts (including his own), an insufferable jerk. But the best stories are ones of redemption, and Isbell recovered to the point where he was one of the best artists of the last decade.
I loved this song from the very first time I heard it. And it has survived the test of being overplayed, and still sounds fresh (and at times, very funny, although it's certainly no comedy routine). It's a perfect example of Isbell's ability to spin a yarn, and this is a great one.
"Songs She Sang in the Shower," Jason Isbell. Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #5.
This isn't the place to write my thoughts about "the new normal," but that will be coming eventually. For now, to paraphrase Bruce Springsteen from his legendary 1978 show at the Roxy, "Y'all are just gonna have to settle for some rock 'n roll."
It's pretty funny to think that the original plan was to finish this Top 50 list before the New Year began. But better late than never, a wise sage once said, so let's embark on the final stretch.
Clocking in at #5 is the estimable Jason Isbell, one-time Drive-By Trucker and current leader of a great band of his own, the 400 Unit. The band's name alone is evidence of Isbell's humor, "400 Unit" being the nickname for the psychiatric ward of Eliza Coffee Memorial Hospital in Florence, Alabama. There may have been a time when Isbell wondered whether he might end up there himself, after having been fired by the Truckers for being a mean and angry drunk and by all accounts (including his own), an insufferable jerk. But the best stories are ones of redemption, and Isbell recovered to the point where he was one of the best artists of the last decade.
I loved this song from the very first time I heard it. And it has survived the test of being overplayed, and still sounds fresh (and at times, very funny, although it's certainly no comedy routine). It's a perfect example of Isbell's ability to spin a yarn, and this is a great one.
"Songs She Sang in the Shower," Jason Isbell. Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #5.
Sunday, March 08, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #6 - "FEEL." Kendrick Lamar
"Ain't nobody praying for me."
I've been struggling to come up with something profound to say about this song, which begins and ends with the line quoted above. After a few failed attempts at profundity, the most important thought to leave you with is that it's the best song on an album that is a masterpiece. It's really best to just listen, drink it all in, and think about what he is saying, and how he is saying it.
The one semi-cogent thought to leave you with is that, during the course of the song's 3:34 running time, Lamar achieves a level of intensity that represents the very best of what music can offer.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #6 - FEEL., Kendrick Lamar.
I've been struggling to come up with something profound to say about this song, which begins and ends with the line quoted above. After a few failed attempts at profundity, the most important thought to leave you with is that it's the best song on an album that is a masterpiece. It's really best to just listen, drink it all in, and think about what he is saying, and how he is saying it.
The one semi-cogent thought to leave you with is that, during the course of the song's 3:34 running time, Lamar achieves a level of intensity that represents the very best of what music can offer.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #6 - FEEL., Kendrick Lamar.
Sunday, March 01, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #7 - "She's Not Me," Jenny Lewis
The Song
A Short Story, starring Jeff, Ron and Richard (and featuring Jenny Lewis)
I. A Hot July Night, 1973
"If you don't turn that radio off, we're never going to get this show rolling."
It's July 1973. To be specific, it's the early morning hours of July 6, 1973. A Friday morning, although as far as we're concerned it's still Thursday night, the night after the 4th of July, and it's really, really hot. Too hot to sleep in my book, although Morte - Richard was his first name, but back then we all called each other by our last names - is snoring quietly behind us.
Nelson (Ron was his first name) is hot under the collar because he wants us to get to the task at hand, which is throwing toilet paper all over the big tree in the front yard of the house where Kirsten lives. Kirsten is the girl that Nelson has a crush on, and what better way to demonstrate that by decorating her front tree with toilet paper? All I can say is that it seemed perfectly reasonable at the time.
The three of us are laying on top of sleeping bags in this little section of green space between Ron's house and mine, and I've got my little Panasonic transistor radio pushed up against my right ear, trying to find the perfect volume - loud enough for me to hear, but not loud enough to wake up my mom and dad. Their bedroom window isn't far from where we're "sleeping," and take my word for it, it would not be good if my dad had to come outside and tell us to knock it off and go to sleep. It would be even worse if Ron's dad came out. He wasn't anywhere near as nice as my dad.
"Why don't you start trying to wake Morte up, instead of bugging me? There's only three songs left."
I was listening to "The After Midnight Countdown," as they called it, on KROY - 1240 AM on your radio dial. Anyone who lived in or around Sacramento in the Sixties and Seventies should remember KROY, will probably remember a few of their DJs. Those guys (and yes, it was all guys in those days) didn't just play records - they were personalities...heck, they were legends, and everyone had their favorite. Mine was Bob Sherwood, but coming in a close second was Chuck Roy. Chuck was handling the countdown on this hot night, which was a little unusual; he was usually the 3-7 p.m. guy. Always closed his show with "Treat," by Santana, talking over the first part of the song with a monologue that was sometimes hysterically funny, and sometimes somewhat philosophical. I guess he was having to fill in for someone on vacation. But Chuck was not the kind of guy who was going to mope around about having to work the midnight shift on the hottest night of the year - nope, he was having a great time, cracking horrible jokes, introducing each new track with a level of enthusiasm that only he could muster. I wish I could remember some of his jokes, but I'm confident enough in my distant memories to know that they were terrible. They always were. But despite the fact that it was after midnight on the night after a major holiday and heading into the weekend, meaning there were probably three people listening, Chuck was building the excitement leading up to the #1 new song like this night's countdown was going to result in the greatest musical revelation since The Beatles.
"Coming in at #3 - He's been gone for a while, and it's probably best not to ask where, but now he's back and this song sounds like it's heading all the way to the top."
It's "If You Want Me To Stay" by Sly and the Family Stone. I really liked this song. It still sounds good today, but what I failed to appreciate at the time was that, as good as it was, it really didn't hold a candle to much of Sly's earlier catalog - including any of the songs on Sly's Greatest Hits album. What I know now is that those songs were as good as anything that's ever been released, so there's no shame in not being quite that good. Bottom line: good song, then and now.
"At #2 - He's a living legend, and boy o boy, on this new track he sounds frisky."
This one is "Let's Get It On," by Marvin Gaye. OK, I have a confession to make. My 13-year old self really did not like this song. I mean, really really really did not like it. All I can say is that while I think my 13-year old self had pretty damn good taste in music, no one is perfect. I got this one wrong. It happens.
By this time Richard was awake, and giving me a look that was half "I'm still asleep, even though my eyes are open" and half "Why the f*ck are you holding that ridiculous radio up to your ear like that?" When you put those two halves together the outcome isn't positive, and I knew that my time listening to the Midnight Countdown was just about up. Come on, Chuck, please don't cut to commercial, just play #1 so I can join these two idiots in our idiotic quest.
"All right folks, the song you've been waiting for - it's a new artist, one we haven't heard from before and man o man, I think you're really going to like this one. She's from Las Vegas, Nevada, and before you turn out the lights, I want you to give a listen to Jenny..."
It was at this moment that Ron grabbed my arm, and hissed (that's really the only way to describe the sound that came from him at that moment) "All right, Vaca, we're out of here. Four rolls each."
So...of course I missed the artist's full name, and the name of the song. I didn't even get to hear the whole song. But what I heard, changed my life forever. (Not really. But it seemed so at the time. Everything seems really dramatic when you're 13 years old). A guitar lick, followed by a female vocal and an arrangement that blended the best of early Seventies Soul with the best of early Seventies pop. As we packed up, I even got to hear a little snippet of an awesomely cool guitar solo near the end, right before Ron ripped the radio out of my hand, turned it off, and threw it on the sleeping bag.
The toilet paper? It went to good use. A guy a couple of years older than us, who lived across the street from Kirsten, even came out to help out a bit. And he - if memory serves, his name was Ned - contributed the piece de resistance to our little crusade. The thing that turned something epic into something epicly stupid - an M-80 firecracker, which we lit on the front porch of Kirsten's house. Yes, we really did do dumb things like that back then, and the one thing I really remember about that night is how hard we were all laughing as we frantically ran down the street, back to our relatively safe haven. No one saw us, no one heard us (or if they did, it was late enough that they chalked it up to experience), and eventually we went to sleep.
The #1 song that I didn't quite get to hear? Oh well - a song that good, I would hear it again. That's what I told myself at the time.
Except I never did. Not even once. And because this was the way my mind worked at the time (and truth be told, not much has changed), I clung to those short snippets of music - creating an entire song in my mind, imagining who "Jenny" was and what might have happened to her, wondering most of all how such an incredible song could just slip into the darkness like that. Over the years, I began to wonder if that part of the night was a dream. Maybe I was the one snoring quietly, and not Richard.
II. A Hot July Night, 2014
I bought four CDs on the way home from work that day, but only had time to listen to three of them before heading to bed. It was another hot July night, one of those nights where you have trouble deciding whether to open the windows when you go to bed, or just leave the AC on all night. We chose the latter, but then faced the first-world dilemma of trying to find that exact temperature that a) will allow you to sleep restfully, while b) not having to cover up with a bunch of blankets that at some point during the night will leave you overheated and soaked with sweat. I failed in the effort, leaving myself wide awake at 3 in the morning. Not wanting to wake Debra, but wanting desperately to do something other than toss and turn and worry about the work day ahead of me, I decided to make myself relatively useful and give a listen to the last new CD of the day: "The Voyager," by Jenny Lewis.
I would imagine that, like most music fans, my first exposure to Lewis had come via her lead role in the band Rilo Kiley, which made at least a couple of great albums in the "decade of the aughts." Her album with the Watson Twins was one that I bought on the strength of the cover photo alone, thinking that an album with a cover that good had to have some great music inside. That theory has not always worked for me, but in this instance it did.
The album's opener, "Head Underwater," was a promising start. That segued into "She's Not Me," and...
Have you ever felt the feeling that follows when your heart literally skips a beat? The first time it happened, it scared the you-know-what out of me. I was having some particularly bad digestive problems at the time, and one of the side effects was a slightly irregular heartbeat. In any event, it's unnerving because you can literally feel your heart stop beating for a moment, and then you get this feeling of light-headedness, and then (hopefully) everything goes back to normal.
That feeling is exactly what happened when "She's Not Me" began playing. And I was instantly transported back to that hot July night, 41 years earlier, the night I spent with Ron and Richard throwing toilet paper over a tree and lighting a firecracker on the front porch of the house where a girl lived that Ron really wanted to ask out. Because this was the song that Chuck Roy played that night, and then disappeared into the darkness for four decades.
Of course, I know that's impossible. But I'm telling you, that's exactly what happened. And this is what it sounded like:
I lost track of Richard a long time ago. Tragically, Ron took his life in the 1980s, after a bad breakup. He always did wear his heart on his sleeve, even if it sometimes took the odd form of throwing toilet paper. My mom and dad still live in the house, but the place between what was then "our" house and Ron's is all paved over, and my guess is that no one in their right mind would allow their 13-year olds to sleep overnight in the front yard in this day and age. I'm not even sure if Chuck Roy is still alive, though I'm pretty sure now that "Chuck Roy" wasn't his real name.
What is left are the memories of a hot July night, and this song.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #7 - "She's Not Me," Jenny Lewis.
A Short Story, starring Jeff, Ron and Richard (and featuring Jenny Lewis)
I. A Hot July Night, 1973
"If you don't turn that radio off, we're never going to get this show rolling."
It's July 1973. To be specific, it's the early morning hours of July 6, 1973. A Friday morning, although as far as we're concerned it's still Thursday night, the night after the 4th of July, and it's really, really hot. Too hot to sleep in my book, although Morte - Richard was his first name, but back then we all called each other by our last names - is snoring quietly behind us.
Nelson (Ron was his first name) is hot under the collar because he wants us to get to the task at hand, which is throwing toilet paper all over the big tree in the front yard of the house where Kirsten lives. Kirsten is the girl that Nelson has a crush on, and what better way to demonstrate that by decorating her front tree with toilet paper? All I can say is that it seemed perfectly reasonable at the time.
The three of us are laying on top of sleeping bags in this little section of green space between Ron's house and mine, and I've got my little Panasonic transistor radio pushed up against my right ear, trying to find the perfect volume - loud enough for me to hear, but not loud enough to wake up my mom and dad. Their bedroom window isn't far from where we're "sleeping," and take my word for it, it would not be good if my dad had to come outside and tell us to knock it off and go to sleep. It would be even worse if Ron's dad came out. He wasn't anywhere near as nice as my dad.
"Why don't you start trying to wake Morte up, instead of bugging me? There's only three songs left."
I was listening to "The After Midnight Countdown," as they called it, on KROY - 1240 AM on your radio dial. Anyone who lived in or around Sacramento in the Sixties and Seventies should remember KROY, will probably remember a few of their DJs. Those guys (and yes, it was all guys in those days) didn't just play records - they were personalities...heck, they were legends, and everyone had their favorite. Mine was Bob Sherwood, but coming in a close second was Chuck Roy. Chuck was handling the countdown on this hot night, which was a little unusual; he was usually the 3-7 p.m. guy. Always closed his show with "Treat," by Santana, talking over the first part of the song with a monologue that was sometimes hysterically funny, and sometimes somewhat philosophical. I guess he was having to fill in for someone on vacation. But Chuck was not the kind of guy who was going to mope around about having to work the midnight shift on the hottest night of the year - nope, he was having a great time, cracking horrible jokes, introducing each new track with a level of enthusiasm that only he could muster. I wish I could remember some of his jokes, but I'm confident enough in my distant memories to know that they were terrible. They always were. But despite the fact that it was after midnight on the night after a major holiday and heading into the weekend, meaning there were probably three people listening, Chuck was building the excitement leading up to the #1 new song like this night's countdown was going to result in the greatest musical revelation since The Beatles.
"Coming in at #3 - He's been gone for a while, and it's probably best not to ask where, but now he's back and this song sounds like it's heading all the way to the top."
It's "If You Want Me To Stay" by Sly and the Family Stone. I really liked this song. It still sounds good today, but what I failed to appreciate at the time was that, as good as it was, it really didn't hold a candle to much of Sly's earlier catalog - including any of the songs on Sly's Greatest Hits album. What I know now is that those songs were as good as anything that's ever been released, so there's no shame in not being quite that good. Bottom line: good song, then and now.
"At #2 - He's a living legend, and boy o boy, on this new track he sounds frisky."
This one is "Let's Get It On," by Marvin Gaye. OK, I have a confession to make. My 13-year old self really did not like this song. I mean, really really really did not like it. All I can say is that while I think my 13-year old self had pretty damn good taste in music, no one is perfect. I got this one wrong. It happens.
By this time Richard was awake, and giving me a look that was half "I'm still asleep, even though my eyes are open" and half "Why the f*ck are you holding that ridiculous radio up to your ear like that?" When you put those two halves together the outcome isn't positive, and I knew that my time listening to the Midnight Countdown was just about up. Come on, Chuck, please don't cut to commercial, just play #1 so I can join these two idiots in our idiotic quest.
"All right folks, the song you've been waiting for - it's a new artist, one we haven't heard from before and man o man, I think you're really going to like this one. She's from Las Vegas, Nevada, and before you turn out the lights, I want you to give a listen to Jenny..."
It was at this moment that Ron grabbed my arm, and hissed (that's really the only way to describe the sound that came from him at that moment) "All right, Vaca, we're out of here. Four rolls each."
So...of course I missed the artist's full name, and the name of the song. I didn't even get to hear the whole song. But what I heard, changed my life forever. (Not really. But it seemed so at the time. Everything seems really dramatic when you're 13 years old). A guitar lick, followed by a female vocal and an arrangement that blended the best of early Seventies Soul with the best of early Seventies pop. As we packed up, I even got to hear a little snippet of an awesomely cool guitar solo near the end, right before Ron ripped the radio out of my hand, turned it off, and threw it on the sleeping bag.
The toilet paper? It went to good use. A guy a couple of years older than us, who lived across the street from Kirsten, even came out to help out a bit. And he - if memory serves, his name was Ned - contributed the piece de resistance to our little crusade. The thing that turned something epic into something epicly stupid - an M-80 firecracker, which we lit on the front porch of Kirsten's house. Yes, we really did do dumb things like that back then, and the one thing I really remember about that night is how hard we were all laughing as we frantically ran down the street, back to our relatively safe haven. No one saw us, no one heard us (or if they did, it was late enough that they chalked it up to experience), and eventually we went to sleep.
The #1 song that I didn't quite get to hear? Oh well - a song that good, I would hear it again. That's what I told myself at the time.
Except I never did. Not even once. And because this was the way my mind worked at the time (and truth be told, not much has changed), I clung to those short snippets of music - creating an entire song in my mind, imagining who "Jenny" was and what might have happened to her, wondering most of all how such an incredible song could just slip into the darkness like that. Over the years, I began to wonder if that part of the night was a dream. Maybe I was the one snoring quietly, and not Richard.
II. A Hot July Night, 2014
I bought four CDs on the way home from work that day, but only had time to listen to three of them before heading to bed. It was another hot July night, one of those nights where you have trouble deciding whether to open the windows when you go to bed, or just leave the AC on all night. We chose the latter, but then faced the first-world dilemma of trying to find that exact temperature that a) will allow you to sleep restfully, while b) not having to cover up with a bunch of blankets that at some point during the night will leave you overheated and soaked with sweat. I failed in the effort, leaving myself wide awake at 3 in the morning. Not wanting to wake Debra, but wanting desperately to do something other than toss and turn and worry about the work day ahead of me, I decided to make myself relatively useful and give a listen to the last new CD of the day: "The Voyager," by Jenny Lewis.
I would imagine that, like most music fans, my first exposure to Lewis had come via her lead role in the band Rilo Kiley, which made at least a couple of great albums in the "decade of the aughts." Her album with the Watson Twins was one that I bought on the strength of the cover photo alone, thinking that an album with a cover that good had to have some great music inside. That theory has not always worked for me, but in this instance it did.
The album's opener, "Head Underwater," was a promising start. That segued into "She's Not Me," and...
Have you ever felt the feeling that follows when your heart literally skips a beat? The first time it happened, it scared the you-know-what out of me. I was having some particularly bad digestive problems at the time, and one of the side effects was a slightly irregular heartbeat. In any event, it's unnerving because you can literally feel your heart stop beating for a moment, and then you get this feeling of light-headedness, and then (hopefully) everything goes back to normal.
That feeling is exactly what happened when "She's Not Me" began playing. And I was instantly transported back to that hot July night, 41 years earlier, the night I spent with Ron and Richard throwing toilet paper over a tree and lighting a firecracker on the front porch of the house where a girl lived that Ron really wanted to ask out. Because this was the song that Chuck Roy played that night, and then disappeared into the darkness for four decades.
Of course, I know that's impossible. But I'm telling you, that's exactly what happened. And this is what it sounded like:
I lost track of Richard a long time ago. Tragically, Ron took his life in the 1980s, after a bad breakup. He always did wear his heart on his sleeve, even if it sometimes took the odd form of throwing toilet paper. My mom and dad still live in the house, but the place between what was then "our" house and Ron's is all paved over, and my guess is that no one in their right mind would allow their 13-year olds to sleep overnight in the front yard in this day and age. I'm not even sure if Chuck Roy is still alive, though I'm pretty sure now that "Chuck Roy" wasn't his real name.
What is left are the memories of a hot July night, and this song.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #7 - "She's Not Me," Jenny Lewis.
Thursday, February 20, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #8 - "Lightning Bolt," Jake Bugg
For me, this song's life began with a Gatorade commercial. This one was on HEAVY rotation when it first came out; you could not watch a sporting event without seeing it multiple times. After several times wondering "WHAT IS THAT SONG?," I finally Googled "Gatorade commerical lightning bolt" (it seemed likely that was the song's name), and lo and behold, this popped up:
It's one of those songs that can easily be described as "timeless," because there probably isn't an era since rock 'n roll began that it wouldn't fit, and wouldn't sound great. It's also a classic driving song, one of those that just screams to be turned up as high as the dial (and the eardrums) will allow.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #8 - "Lightning Bolt," Jake Bugg.
It's one of those songs that can easily be described as "timeless," because there probably isn't an era since rock 'n roll began that it wouldn't fit, and wouldn't sound great. It's also a classic driving song, one of those that just screams to be turned up as high as the dial (and the eardrums) will allow.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #8 - "Lightning Bolt," Jake Bugg.
Sunday, February 16, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #9 - "Best Years of My Life," Pistol Annies
"Hankering" is such a great word. I'm not exactly sure why it appeals to me so much, but it's one of the words that I try to work into a conversation, or online dialogue, as often as I can.
The fact that "hankering" is used in "Best Years of My Life," however, is not why it made the Top Ten. It made the Top Ten because it's a truly great song by one of the truly great groups - and I mean, really really great - of the entire decade.
For the uninitiated, Pistol Annies is comprised of, from left to right in the video, Ashley Monroe, Angaleena Presley, and Miranda Lambert. In total, the trio released twelve albums during the decade of the 2010s: three Pistol Annies albums, four solo albums by Lambert, three solo albums by Monroe, and two solo albums by Presley. Two of those albums (Presley's "American Middle Class" and Pistol Annies' "Interstate Gospel") made my Top 30 of the Decade, and if I expanded that list to 50, Lambert's "Platinum" and Monroe's "The Blade" would have joined them.
In short, they're great. As in, great on an historical scale. They are at the vanguard of the new wave of women country artists that have scorched the musical world with their boldness, their brilliance, in recent years. Although you may not know it, since country radio is still loathe to give them the spotlight they deserve.
"Best Years of My Life" is a great place to begin diving into their catalog.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #9 - "Best Years of My Life," Pistol Annies.
Friday, February 14, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #10 - "When the Master Calls the Roll," Rosanne Cash
To kick off the Top Ten - THE TOP TEN! - we have, without a doubt, the best Civil War ballad that's been written in the 21st Century. And one with a fascinating back story - after all, it's not every day that an artist collaborates on a song with her husband and her ex-husband.
The song began as a collaboration between John Leventhal (Cash's husband) and Rodney Crowell (Cash's ex-husband) even before Rosanne herself entered the picture, with Leventhal giving the melody to Crowell for potential use on one of his albums with Emmylou Harris.
But let's let Ms. Cash tell the story:
We kept the first four lines that Rodney had—it was an actual 19th century personals ad. I wanted to keep that and then turn the rest of it into the Civil War song, where she found him through a personals ad. It’s based on two of my own ancestors. I researched them and we wrote it together. He came over to my house, we wrote part of it at the table, and then we wrote part of it by email.
So maybe it's also the best song ever (at least partly) written by email? I can't really answer that question, since I have no idea how many songs have been written by email. There can't be that many, right? By the way, for a more complete picture of how the song was written, please check out the excellent interview with Cash and Leventhal by Jeffrey Pepper Rodgers, here.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #10 - "When the Master Calls the Roll," Rosanne Cash.
The song began as a collaboration between John Leventhal (Cash's husband) and Rodney Crowell (Cash's ex-husband) even before Rosanne herself entered the picture, with Leventhal giving the melody to Crowell for potential use on one of his albums with Emmylou Harris.
But let's let Ms. Cash tell the story:
We kept the first four lines that Rodney had—it was an actual 19th century personals ad. I wanted to keep that and then turn the rest of it into the Civil War song, where she found him through a personals ad. It’s based on two of my own ancestors. I researched them and we wrote it together. He came over to my house, we wrote part of it at the table, and then we wrote part of it by email.
So maybe it's also the best song ever (at least partly) written by email? I can't really answer that question, since I have no idea how many songs have been written by email. There can't be that many, right? By the way, for a more complete picture of how the song was written, please check out the excellent interview with Cash and Leventhal by Jeffrey Pepper Rodgers, here.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #10 - "When the Master Calls the Roll," Rosanne Cash.
Saturday, February 08, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #11 - "New York Banker," Todd Snider
His Wikipedia page describes Todd Snider as "an American singer-songwriter with a musical style that combines American, alt-country and folk.
Well, this one is a rocker, plain and simple.
The song is the perfect musical companion to the films Margin Call and The Big Short, which in very different ways tell the story of the 2008 market collapse. Here, that collapse reaches all the way to a high school teacher, down in Arkansas. And the story doesn't have a happy ending.
It's one of the catchiest refrains you'll hear - listen to this song a few times, and I promise you won't be able to get the phrase "Good things happen to bad people" out of your head. The year it was released, that phrase was the perfect description of someone who unfortunately spilled over into my life from time to time, so the song had particular resonance.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #11 - "New York Banker," Todd Snider.
Well, this one is a rocker, plain and simple.
The song is the perfect musical companion to the films Margin Call and The Big Short, which in very different ways tell the story of the 2008 market collapse. Here, that collapse reaches all the way to a high school teacher, down in Arkansas. And the story doesn't have a happy ending.
It's one of the catchiest refrains you'll hear - listen to this song a few times, and I promise you won't be able to get the phrase "Good things happen to bad people" out of your head. The year it was released, that phrase was the perfect description of someone who unfortunately spilled over into my life from time to time, so the song had particular resonance.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #11 - "New York Banker," Todd Snider.
Sunday, February 02, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #12 - "South Dakota," James McMurtry
As befits a man whose mother was an English professor and whose father is the Pulitzer Prize winning novelist Larry McMurtry, James McMurtry knows how to spin a musical yarn.
The lyrics of "South Dakota" read like they could be an outline for a well-filmed, well-directed but somewhat depressing film about a young man who comes home from the war, tries to make a go at life in South Dakota, but following one calamity after another, reluctantly re-ups for one more tour overseas. Close with the tight shot of the protagonist getting on the plane, shaking his head. Fade to black.
There ain't much between the pole and South Dakota
And barbed wire won't stop the wind
I won't get nothing here but broke and older
I might as well re-up again
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #12 - "South Dakota," James McMurtry.
The lyrics of "South Dakota" read like they could be an outline for a well-filmed, well-directed but somewhat depressing film about a young man who comes home from the war, tries to make a go at life in South Dakota, but following one calamity after another, reluctantly re-ups for one more tour overseas. Close with the tight shot of the protagonist getting on the plane, shaking his head. Fade to black.
There ain't much between the pole and South Dakota
And barbed wire won't stop the wind
I won't get nothing here but broke and older
I might as well re-up again
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #12 - "South Dakota," James McMurtry.
Thursday, January 30, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #13 - "Runaway," Kanye West
Oxford defines genius as "exceptional intellectual or creative power or other natural ability."
Oxford defines insane as "in a state of mind which prevents normal perception, behavior or social interaction."
Pick which definition you think best suits Kanye West. I'd say that in any given moment, both could apply.
Throughout this century, Kanye has been impossible to ignore. But for the first decade of the century, while his behavior - his antics - were impossible to ignore, I missed his music. It was only when I heard "My Dark Twisted Fantasy" playing in my son's room, shortly after its release, that the genius part of the equation became impossible to ignore.
For me, this song will always be Kanye doing his best in coming to grips with the contradictions that have defined his public life. And if one song can define an artist's work, this is his masterpiece.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #13 - "Runaway," Kanye West.
Oxford defines insane as "in a state of mind which prevents normal perception, behavior or social interaction."
Pick which definition you think best suits Kanye West. I'd say that in any given moment, both could apply.
Throughout this century, Kanye has been impossible to ignore. But for the first decade of the century, while his behavior - his antics - were impossible to ignore, I missed his music. It was only when I heard "My Dark Twisted Fantasy" playing in my son's room, shortly after its release, that the genius part of the equation became impossible to ignore.
For me, this song will always be Kanye doing his best in coming to grips with the contradictions that have defined his public life. And if one song can define an artist's work, this is his masterpiece.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #13 - "Runaway," Kanye West.
Tuesday, January 28, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #14 - "The Jacket," Ashley McBryde
One of the reasons that I'm determined to keep better notes this year - not quite a diary, but just a set of notes on various things that happen - is that I want to begin making better note of how I discover new musical artists. I can't quite remember how I discovered Ashley McBryde; maybe it was American Songwriter, and maybe it was Robert Christgau (who gave her 2018 album a B+; I liked it more than that). The point is, I want to remember.
None of which has anything in particular to do with this song. You may not have known that I'm a sucker for sentimental songs like this, and this is a great one. There's little I can add to the story - just listen.
And here is the recorded version, from the album:
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #14 - "The Jacket," Ashley McBryde.
None of which has anything in particular to do with this song. You may not have known that I'm a sucker for sentimental songs like this, and this is a great one. There's little I can add to the story - just listen.
And here is the recorded version, from the album:
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #14 - "The Jacket," Ashley McBryde.
Wednesday, January 22, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #15 - "Burn" and "It's Quiet Uptown," Hamilton (Original Broadway Soundtrack)
"Hamilton: An American Musical" was the greatest cultural event of the 2010s. It was also, perhaps, the most unexpected cultural event of the 2010s. Back at the turn of the decade, one certainly could have gotten good odds for a prediction along the lines of "Yeah, I'm thinking a Broadway musical about one of the founding fathers...you know, the guy who wrote some of The Federalist Papers, shot by Aaron Burr, that guy...that will definitely be the sensation that people talk about for decades!"
The only word to describe the show is remarkable. There are an incredible number of great songs in the musical; the pace never really lags at any time. And while it's understandable that the cost and the limited number of venues have made it difficult for many people to see it live, if such an opportunity arises everyone should avail themselves of it. As great an experience listening to the soundtrack album is, it pales in comparison to seeing the show performed live.
Because it's my list, when the issue of declaring these two songs being in a tie came up, I ruled in my favor and went with both. And I'm going with both because they represent the emotional heart of the story. They both appear in the second act, and they chronicle how things fell apart between Alexander and Eliza; and how, under the most tragic circumstances, they came back together.
First, "Burn":
I'm erasing myself from the narrative
Let future historians wonder how Eliza reacted
When you broke her heart
You have torn it all apart
I'm watching it burn
Watching it burn
The world has no right to my heart
The world has no place in our bed
They don't get to know what I said
I'm burning the memories
Burning the letters that might have redeemed you
You forfeit all rights to my heart
You forfeit the place in our bed
You'll sleep in your office instead
With only the memories of when you were mine
I hope that you burn
And then, "It's Quiet Uptown":
There are moments when the words don't reach
There is a grace too powerful to name
We push away what we can never understand
We push away the unimaginable
They are standing in the garden
Alexander by Eliza's side
She takes his hand
It's quiet uptown
So...where to begin? Thank you Alexander and Eliza Hamilton for being who you were, thank you Ron Chernow for writing the definitive biography, thank you Lin Manuel Miranda for deciding to read the book on vacation, and then turning your substantial genius to this work. Thank you to the incredible cast, not just the original cast with so many leading lights, but also the wonderful cast we were privileged to see in Chicago, in October 2018.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #15 - "Burn" and "It's Quiet Uptown," from Hamilton: An American Musical: Original Broadway Soundtrack.
The only word to describe the show is remarkable. There are an incredible number of great songs in the musical; the pace never really lags at any time. And while it's understandable that the cost and the limited number of venues have made it difficult for many people to see it live, if such an opportunity arises everyone should avail themselves of it. As great an experience listening to the soundtrack album is, it pales in comparison to seeing the show performed live.
Because it's my list, when the issue of declaring these two songs being in a tie came up, I ruled in my favor and went with both. And I'm going with both because they represent the emotional heart of the story. They both appear in the second act, and they chronicle how things fell apart between Alexander and Eliza; and how, under the most tragic circumstances, they came back together.
First, "Burn":
I'm erasing myself from the narrative
Let future historians wonder how Eliza reacted
When you broke her heart
You have torn it all apart
I'm watching it burn
Watching it burn
The world has no right to my heart
The world has no place in our bed
They don't get to know what I said
I'm burning the memories
Burning the letters that might have redeemed you
You forfeit all rights to my heart
You forfeit the place in our bed
You'll sleep in your office instead
With only the memories of when you were mine
I hope that you burn
And then, "It's Quiet Uptown":
There are moments when the words don't reach
There is a grace too powerful to name
We push away what we can never understand
We push away the unimaginable
They are standing in the garden
Alexander by Eliza's side
She takes his hand
It's quiet uptown
So...where to begin? Thank you Alexander and Eliza Hamilton for being who you were, thank you Ron Chernow for writing the definitive biography, thank you Lin Manuel Miranda for deciding to read the book on vacation, and then turning your substantial genius to this work. Thank you to the incredible cast, not just the original cast with so many leading lights, but also the wonderful cast we were privileged to see in Chicago, in October 2018.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #15 - "Burn" and "It's Quiet Uptown," from Hamilton: An American Musical: Original Broadway Soundtrack.
Sunday, January 19, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #16 - "We Take Care of Our Own," Bruce Springsteen
"Wrecking Ball" is probably Bruce Springsteen's most political album, even more so than "The Rising." In his autobiography he called it "a shot of anger at the injustice that continues on and his widened with deregulation, dysfunctional regulatory agencies and capitalism gone wild at the expense of hardworking Americans."
"We Take Care of Our Own," much like "Born in the U.S.A." nearly three decades prior, was a widely misunderstood song - if you focus only on the chorus, it's hard to hear it as anything but an uplifting song. But when you dive deeper into the verses, it's pretty clear that what Bruce is really saying is that all too often, we don't take care of our own.
It's a song that fits right in to any reasonable collection of his best.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #16 - "We Take Care of Our Own," Bruce Springsteen.
"We Take Care of Our Own," much like "Born in the U.S.A." nearly three decades prior, was a widely misunderstood song - if you focus only on the chorus, it's hard to hear it as anything but an uplifting song. But when you dive deeper into the verses, it's pretty clear that what Bruce is really saying is that all too often, we don't take care of our own.
It's a song that fits right in to any reasonable collection of his best.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #16 - "We Take Care of Our Own," Bruce Springsteen.
Sunday, January 12, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #17 - "Cinco Minutos Con Vos," Elvis Costello and The Roots
During the course of a career that is now in its fifth decade, Elvis Costello has covered a lot of musical ground. He hit the boards as an "angry young man" - never quite punk, but clearly influenced by punk. He's made a country album, he's collaborated and made an entire album with Burt Bacharach, he's written songs with Paul McCartney, and he's made an album with The Roots.
La Marisoul is the featured performer here along with Costello, and this song has exactly the type of mysterious vibe that I love to hear. The arrangement is all tension; you think that the tempo will pick up, but it never does - and the song is all the stronger for staying its course.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #17 - "Cinco Minutos Con Vos," Elvis Costello and The Roots.
Monday, January 06, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #18 - "The World Is On Fire," American Aquarium
Someone, I think it was Greil Marcus, once wrote something along the lines that difficult political times result in the best art, as expressions of protest and dissent.
Where they fit into the spectrum of American history is for future historians to decide, but these are some challenging times, no doubt. And they've resulted in some great music, this song being one of the primary examples. There are allusions to President Trump, although he's never mentioned by name.
Ultimately, the key lines are the ones that leave the listener with hope - and can be applied universally to the picture the singer paints, which is one of good vs. evil.
The road is heavy and the road is long
And we've only begun to fight
We just can't give in, we just can't give up
We must go boldly into the darkness
And be the light.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #18 - "The World Is On Fire," American Aquarium.
Where they fit into the spectrum of American history is for future historians to decide, but these are some challenging times, no doubt. And they've resulted in some great music, this song being one of the primary examples. There are allusions to President Trump, although he's never mentioned by name.
Ultimately, the key lines are the ones that leave the listener with hope - and can be applied universally to the picture the singer paints, which is one of good vs. evil.
The road is heavy and the road is long
And we've only begun to fight
We just can't give in, we just can't give up
We must go boldly into the darkness
And be the light.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #18 - "The World Is On Fire," American Aquarium.
Saturday, January 04, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #19 - "Follow Your Arrow," Kacey Musgraves
It's probably fair to say that Kacey Musgraves, by now, is a full-fledged crossover superstar. (Feel free to let me know if you've never heard of her, which would put a bit of a dent in my theory). Over the course of the decade she's undergone a fascinating transformation, moving towards a synthesis of pop and country that, at it's best, is truly magical.
This song was recorded and released before that transformation began, although you can pick up bits here and there. This is a song that rarely fails to bring a smile to my face. And in a song full of favorite moments, my very favorite is probably the way she pronounces "horrr....ible."
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #19 - "Follow Your Arrow," Kacey Musgraves.
This song was recorded and released before that transformation began, although you can pick up bits here and there. This is a song that rarely fails to bring a smile to my face. And in a song full of favorite moments, my very favorite is probably the way she pronounces "horrr....ible."
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #19 - "Follow Your Arrow," Kacey Musgraves.
Friday, January 03, 2020
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #20 - "The Promise," Sturgill Simpson
Sturgill Simpson is my favorite kind of artist; the kind who takes an "I'm gonna do what my muse tells me to do, and I don't really care what the rest of y'all think." Classic album that sounds by Waylon Jennings on acid? Check. Concept country album based about the sea, in part based on his time in the Navy? Check. Album of acid-rock accompanied by anime videos for each song? Check. Oh and during all that, some of the most stinging lead guitar ever heard on Saturday Night Live, while accompanying Chris Stapleton? Check.
But Simpson's greatest accomplishment may be the way he transformed "The Promise."
When the album ("Metamodern Sounds in Country Music") and song came out, I had no idea that this was a cover version. And when you listen to the original, what Simpson did is all the more amazing.
If the definition of a great cover version is one that results in an artist claiming the song for his/her own, then "The Promise" has to qualify for one of the greatest covers of all time.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #50 - "The Promise," Sturgill Simpson.
But Simpson's greatest accomplishment may be the way he transformed "The Promise."
When the album ("Metamodern Sounds in Country Music") and song came out, I had no idea that this was a cover version. And when you listen to the original, what Simpson did is all the more amazing.
If the definition of a great cover version is one that results in an artist claiming the song for his/her own, then "The Promise" has to qualify for one of the greatest covers of all time.
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #50 - "The Promise," Sturgill Simpson.
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #21 - "Pulaski," Drive-By Truckers
I used to see the Drive-By Truckers pop up on a regular basis in the Pazz & Jop poll, but it wasn't until 2010 - thanks to Jean, a colleague and friend - that I bought my first DBT album. Almost a decade later, they're way up there in my list of pantheon artists, and two of their albums in the 2010s were among the decade's very best.
One of the great delights in following the band over the past decade has been the blossoming of Mike Cooley as a full-fledged equal to Patterson Hood. Cooley's always been in the band, and has always written great songs, but up through 2014's "English Oceans," the ratio of Hood to Cooley songs was probably in the 3-1 range. But on their last two albums, which one could easily argue are their very best, it's been much closer to 50-50.
This is a story song, and the story it tells is a tragedy. It's worth your while to give the lyrics a good listen.
And here, a live performance of the song:
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #21 - "Pulaski," Drive-By Truckers
One of the great delights in following the band over the past decade has been the blossoming of Mike Cooley as a full-fledged equal to Patterson Hood. Cooley's always been in the band, and has always written great songs, but up through 2014's "English Oceans," the ratio of Hood to Cooley songs was probably in the 3-1 range. But on their last two albums, which one could easily argue are their very best, it's been much closer to 50-50.
This is a story song, and the story it tells is a tragedy. It's worth your while to give the lyrics a good listen.
And here, a live performance of the song:
Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #21 - "Pulaski," Drive-By Truckers
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