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

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #22 - "Boom Clap," Charlie XCX

I've always been a sucker for a perfect pop song - I think because of all those years spent listening to AM radio.  There was always a lot of dreck, but there were also plenty of home runs. 

"Boom Clap" would have fit in perfectly during that era.  But it's also great for this one.



Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #22 - "Boom Clap," Charlie XCX.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #23 - "Helplessness Blues," Fleet Foxes

The best word to describe the songs on the first two albums by Fleet Foxes is "beautiful."  "Helplessness Blues" is one of their best, and it feels almost like two songs in one.  And they're both equally good.



The song has also inspired a lot of thinking about exactly what it means.  I've seen it interpreted as a commentary on capitalism vs. socialism, and I've seen it described as "an incredibly powerful expression of living out the Gospel and the will of God in our lives."  I'm not sure I subscribe to either of those theories, but in the end that's less important than appreciating the sheer beauty of the music itself.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #23 - "Helplessness Blues," Fleet Foxes.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #24 - "I Like That," Janelle Monae

"I'm the random minor note you hear in major songs."

A full reading of the song's lyrics is in order for this one.  It's a beautiful expression of someone clearly recognizing that they are not quite in sync with the world at large, and being completely comfortable with that status.  As she sings in the final verse, "I always knew I was the shit."

Add in a beautiful melody, and well...I may very well be underrating this one.



Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #24 - "I Like That,"  Janelle Monae.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #25: "Every Time I Hear That Song," Brandi Carlile

It's been a pretty, pretty good few years for Brandi Carlile, especially the last two - an outstanding solo album, an incredible performance on the Grammy Awards, and then being one of the auteurs behind The Highwomen.  Not bad at all.



This is another one of those songs that clicked for me the very first time I heard it.  And it's only gotten better as time has passed. 

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #25 - "Every Time I Hear That Song," Brandi Carlile.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #26 - "Hold On," Alabama Shakes

Once in a blue moon, you hear a song for the first time and you think, "that's it - that's a stone cold classic, and it will be forever."  "Hold On" is one of those songs.  The great thing about it is its timeless nature.  If you played it for a musical Rip Van Winkle, he/she would have difficulty deciding whether it was from the Sixties, Seventies, 80s...you get the idea.



Brittany Howard recorded her first solo album this year, but I hope we hear more from Alabama Shakes.  But even if we don't, there was one good album, one great album, and this timeless song.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #26 - "Hold On," Alabama Shakes.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #27 - "Runnin' Just in Case," Miranda Lambert

There's trouble where I'm going
But I'm gonna go there anyway
I hate Sunday mornings
Cause they always seem to start this way
I'm looking for a lighter
I already bought the cigarettes
Guess I picked me up a habit
On my way out of Lafayette



The absolute brilliance of this song made it difficult for me to get into the album from which it came, only because I kept coming back to this one.  She's had a great career and the album she released last month shows there's a lot more to come, but I'm not sure she's ever going to top this song.  And if she does, check back here in ten years.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #28 - "Runnin' Just in Case," Miranda Lambert.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #28 - "Fade," Sleater-Kinney

This is my theory, and I'm sticking with it.  I'm convinced that when Sleater-Kinney wrote and performed "Fade," they were channeling mid-seventies Roxy Music.

Specifically, one song in particular - "Song For Europe," from "Stranded." 

Hear me out on this - the first few dozen times I listened to "Fade," it absolutely drove me nuts trying to figure out which song "Fade" was making me think of.  Let's give it a listen:



And then, the great Bryan Ferry singing "Song For Europe":



Listen to the song structures.  Listen to the vocals.  And more than anything else, listen to the drums from Janet Weiss and Paul Thompson.

You can't convince me otherwise.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #28 - "Fade," Sleater-Kinney.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #29 - "Over Everything," Courtney Barnett & Kurt Vile

What I love most about this song is the chaos that breaks out with the two guitars about four minutes in.  And from that point on, it never lets up.  It's like two cars playing chicken, but in this instance neither one stops, and somehow everyone manages to survive the ensuing crash.

This was a great collaboration; I hope they record another album someday.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #29 - "Over Everything," Courtney Barnett & Kurt Vile.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #30 - "Hadron Collider," Blood Orange feat. Nelly Hurtado

Blood Orange is a group that my son introduced me to - although it's less a band than the work of one man, Devonte Hynes, who also was known at one time as Lightspeed Champion.



Not only am I not sure how this connects to the Hadron Collider, I don't really care.  This is one that I love just for the music and the arrangement.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #30 - "Hadron Collider," Blood Orange feat. Nelly Furtado.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #31 - "Touch," Daft Punk feat. Paul Williams

You can judge for yourself, but I'm pretty sure this is the strangest song on the list.  And if you head over to one of the websites where people theorize on the meaning of song lyrics, you'll see that there are quite a few interpretations of what it all means. 

For me, that's less important than the sheer musical audacity of the whole thing.  The first two minutes - which from time to time, I'm tempted to just skip through - are machine-like, and then the first vocal you hear is that of Paul Williams - Paul Williams, the Phantom of the Paradise himself!  Who even knew that he was still singing.



But it's the last four minutes of the song that turn it from a musical curiosity into a damn masterpiece.  What does it all mean?  I'll settle for it being a statement that even within the insular world of technology and machines, love and beauty can prevail.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #31 - "Touch," Daft Punk feat. Paul Williams.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #32 - "Ever South," Drive-By Truckers

Drive-By Truckers have been around now for more than 20 years.  They've gone through numerous personnel changes (at one time, Jason Isbell was a member), but the heart of the band has always been the duo that jokingly refers to themselves as "The Dimmer Twins": Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley.  Of the two, Hood has been the more prolific songwriter, though that's changed a bit on recent albums.  Born and raised in Alabama, Hood has frequently written and sung about what he calls "the duality of the Southern thing."  In an earlier song, he sang about "the three great Alabama icons" - George Wallace, Bear Bryant, and Ronnie Van Zant.  As that particular song segues into the next, Wallace is seated with Devil down in you-know where, sipping an ice cold glass of sweet tea.

A couple of years ago, Hood moved with his family to Portland, Oregon, nearly a continent away.  "Ever South" chronicles the history of his family in the south, the move to Portland, and in the final verse closes with the recognition that no matter where he lives, he is always going to be "ever south."  

Ever Southern in my carriage, ever southern in my stance

In the Irish of my complexion and the Scottish in my dance

In the way I bang my head against my daily circumstance

Let this blue eyed southern devil take you out upon the prowl

With decadence and chart we'll take it into town

Tell you stories of our fathers and the glories of our house

Always told a little slower, ever south

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #32 - "Ever South," Drive-By Truckers

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #33 - "My Only Child," The Highwomen

There's always room for a tear-jerker.  And in the instance of this particular song, I'm not sure whether it's the lyrics or the beautiful harmonies that do the trick.



I wrote about The Highwomen earlier this year, but for those unlucky enough not to have been introduced to the group yet, the members are Brandi Carlile, Amanda Shires, Natalie Hemby and Maren Morris.  Their debut album (I'm hoping it's not a one-shot deal; I suspect it won't be) is one of 2019's best.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #34 - "The Isolation of Mister," John Mellencamp

John Mellencamp, grizzled veteran.  It's been one of the most remarkable transformations in the history of rock music.  It's one of my favorite stories.  When he first emerged in the late 1970s, his management packaged him as a pretty boy, almost David Bowie-ish, type.  It went about as well as one would have expected.

By the early 1980s, he was John Cougar Mellencamp.  He had a couple of massive hit singles, and by the mid-eighties the albums he was releasing were as good as anyone's.  He'd reclaimed his career, and his name.  From that point on, he's been John Mellencamp.



Mellencamp described the song in a 2014 interview as "a song about men and how we rationalize and isolate ourselves from our regrets and mistakes."



Reinvention, artistic redemption, and ultimately triumph.  Not bad for a career arc.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #35 - "Dream Baby Dream," Bruce Springsteen

Yes, I know it's a cover song - and yes, I know a lot of people think that Bruce's version pales in comparison to the 1979 original by Suicide.  That's OK.  I wouldn't have any qualms about including this version on a career-spanning Best Of by Bruce. 



But of course it was the video for the song that really connected me with it.  This is the sort of thing that an artist lesser than Bruce Springsteen might not be able to get away with.  But for him, it made perfect sense.  I don't know the full story behind the video, but one has to wonder whether Thom Zimny came up with the concept after turning his camera on the crowd to get their reactions to what they were hearing.

Nearly 40 - Forty! - years ago, Greil Marcus wrote, "The implicit promise of a Bruce Springsteen concert is that This Is What It's All About - This Is the Rock."  Going on, Marcus observes:

Having posited a tradition Springsteen performs as if every bit of it is backing him up - rooting for him.  This allows him to hit the boards as if his status as a rock 'n roll star is both privileged and ordinary, and the result onstage is a unique combination of authority and prank.  It means that at his finest, Springsteen can get away with almost anything, stuff that coming from anyone else would seem hopelessly corny and contrived - and that he can come up with stuff to get away with that most rockers since Little Richard would be embarrassed even to have thought of.

You get a sense of that watching the video - but in the end, it's the song that ties it all together.  Bruce Springsteen has lived a dream, and the rest of us have had the privilege to hop on board every once in a while.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #35 - "Dream Baby Dream," Bruce Springsteen.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #36 - "Wayfaring Stranger," Rhiannon Giddens with Francesco Turrisi

Without a doubt, this is the oldest song on the list.  "The Wayfaring Stranger" dates back to the early 19th Century, and has been recorded and sung by countless artists - Burl Ives, Johnny Cash, Jack White, Natalie Merchant, Emmylou Harris...the list is endless.

This is a remarkable recording.  In my last post I wrote about the emotions that music evokes.  The emotions this song elicits are so powerful that they become a physical force.  When Rhiannon Giddens reaches the last verse and the line, "I'm going home to meet my savior...", it's overwhelming.  And that last note which Francesco Turrisi draws from his accordion...miraculous is the only word that does it justice.

A live performance:



And the original recording:



Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #36 - "Wayfaring Stranger," Rhiannon Giddens with Francesco Turrisi.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #37 - "i love you," Billie Eilish

Hypnotic.  That's really the best word to describe this song.



And this is a remarkable video.  It reminds me of one that you'll be seeing in a few days.  This is the kind of raw emotion that music is supposed to elicit from those who are listening. 

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #37 - "i love you," Billie Eilish.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #38 - "Springsteen," Eric Church

First, a story.

Right before Christmas in 2011 - I'm thinking it was probably December 23 - I found myself needing to make one last run to Target, in search of trinkets (and the like) for gifts.  Before heading out on this dubiously thought-out excursion, I made a general announcement to the family, to find out if anyone else needed me to pick up something.  Son #2 asked if I could pick up a copy of Eric Church's album "Chief" for him.  When I expressed surprise - he'd never shown any inclination to enjoy country music in the past - he said it was for a friend who was a fan.  OK, no problem.

Fast forward to Christmas morning, when we're taking turns playing Santa and opening gifts from each other.  I'm handed a wrapped gift that is obviously a CD, and by now I've pretty much figured out what it's going to be. Yep, "Chief" by Eric Church.  Definitely a Hall of Fame Christmas moment.



Funny how a melody sounds like a memory
Like the soundtrack to a July Saturday night
Springsteen

Hopefully, everyone has songs that evoke memories so powerful that sometimes they hurt - even if the memory is a pleasant one.  That's what music is all about.  And that's what Eric Church is singing about in "Springsteen."  Clearly he loves Bruce and his music, but it's also about the life he was living at the time those songs were on the radio.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #38 - "Springsteen," Eric Church.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #39 - "How Much a Dollar Cost," Kendrick Lamar

Rather than reinvent the wheel, for this song I'm reprinting something that I wrote more than four years ago, shortly after Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp a Butterfly was released.  Under normal circumstances I'd tinker with the wording, but this seems to be OK. 



...Today I want to focus on "How Much a Dollar Cost," which I've had on continuous loop in my head for the past four days.  Even before I was entirely certain of what Lamar was saying in the song, the music drew me in.  Finding words to do it justice are difficult.  "Ominous" comes to mind, but also "stately," "compelling" and ultimately "thrilling."  Hearing it for the first time (during my commute into work, and I immediately proceeded to listen to it four consecutive times), I felt the thrill that comes with hearing a song you suspect on first listen will become an enduring classic.  That doesn't happen too often, and when it does it's with a song like "Gimmie Shelter," "Every Breath You Take" or "Rolling in the Deep."  That's the kind of power the song held, which was only strengthened when I - with the help of Genius.com - began to hear and understand what the song was all about.

The song begins with the narrator, who has just "parked his luxury car," encountering a homeless man on the streets of South Africa, who asks him for ten rand (roughly, $1).  The assumption in the first verse is that the dollar will go towards crack:

Contributin' money for his pipe, I couldn't see it
He said, "My son, temptation is one thing that I've defeated
Listen to me I want a single bill from you 
Nothin' less, nothin' more"
I told him I ain't havin' it and closed my door
Tell me how much a dollar cost

In the second verse, the man won't stand down, and the narrator feels a growing sense of frustration:

I never understood someone beggin' for goods
Askin' for handouts, takin' it if they could
And this particular person just had it down pat
Starin' at me for the longest until he finally asked
Have you ever opened up Exodus 14?
A humble man is all that we ever need
Tell me how much a dollar cost

Near the end of the first two verses, you begin to hear a voice, almost hiding in the background, with what can almost describe as a plaintive moan.  On my first few listens I didn't even notice it, but once I did I couldn't get it out of my head - haunting may be the best way to describe it.

In the final verse, the narrator questions himself but then increases the intensity of his attacks on the man, until the dramatic and unexpected climax:

The jig is up, I seen you from a mile away losin' focus
And I'm insensitive, and I lack empathy
He looked at me and said "Your potential is bittersweet"
I looked at him and said "Every nickel is mines to keep"
He looked at me and said, "Know the truth, it'll set you free
You're lookin' at the Messiah, the son of Jehovah, the higher power
The choir that spoke the word, the Holy Spirit
The nerve of Nazareth, and I'll tell you how much a dollar cost
The price of having a spot in Heaven, embrace your loss, I am God"

And at this moment, Kendrick hands the song to Ronald Isley, who sings a beautiful plea for forgiveness that ends with these words:

Shades of grey will never change if I condone
Turn this page, help me change, so right my wrongs

Powerful doesn't do the song justice, and this is just one of many great (if complex, and sometimes hard to hear) moments on the record. No doubt, To Pimp a Butterfly is an album of great depth, one that both speaks to the times and reacts to them.

Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #40 - "Hope the High Road," Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit

Jason Isbell's story is one of redemption; one of triumph.  Fired by the Drive-By Truckers in 2007 for his tendency to be a drunken jerk, his career really took off over the past decade, after he cleaned himself up, no doubt with a huge assist from Amanda Shires, who had a pretty good decade of her own.  His band's album "The Nashville Sound" was the best record of 2017, and before that he'd scored with consecutive killers, "Southeastern" and "Something More Than Free."

He's got a great sense of humor, evidenced by his concert patter and almost daily on his Twitter feed.  But this song is 100 percent serious, and the video helpfully includes the lyrics so it's easy to follow along.



Top 50 Songs of the Decade, #40 - "Hope the High Road," Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit.