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.

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.

"Me" (Elton John, 2019)

Not even the world's most popular celebrity lives their life in full public view.  However, the degree to which the story of Elton John's life, as he recounts it in "Me," felt familiar - and sometimes intimately so - says a lot about just how much of his life has been an open book.

At one point while reading Elton's hugely entertaining autobiography, I commented to my wife that one thing which made it so great was that Elton "has no fucks to give." At this stage of his life, he's completely comfortable putting it all out there, and he doesn't particularly care if some of his life's episodes make him look foolish, selfish, or just plain dumb.  That was all part of the journey, and he owns it all, and always with self-deprecating humor.  His ability to laugh or roll his eyes at the earlier versions of himself is the key to the book's success.  At no point does he seek forgiveness for his bad behavior; and if one seeks to judge him, he really doesn't give a shit.  It's all part of the story of Elton John, and the reader is better off for this approach.

Elton John has been one of the most important musical figures in my own life, one in which music has played an important, and even formative role.  He wasn't my first musical hero - that would be some combination of The Beatles, Creedence Clearwater and Dionne Warwick (which is a story unto itself) - but he was my musical hero during my early teenage years, those years that for many form the musical blueprint of one's life.  I now own thousands of albums across various media, but the first album I bought with my own money was an Elton John album ("Honky Chateau").  And while it's true that the legacy of subsequent musical heroes has surpassed that of Elton's, it's also true that his place in the Hall of Fame is richly deserved, and true that few artists have surpassed the accomplishments of the richest three year period of his career - from 1972 through the end of 1975.  During that period, he released six albums that ranged from very good to great - the aforementioned "Honky Chateau," "Don't Shoot Me, I'm Only the Piano Player," "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road," "Caribou," "Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy," and "Rock of the Westies."  That's approaching Beatles territory, right there.

There are so many stories that one could point to as being highlights of the book - Elton meeting the Laurel Canyon musical royalty shortly after his legendary performances at the Troubador in 1970, his experiences with the Watford football club, his interactions with the royal family, his accounting of the disastrous decision at Wembley in 1975 to follow incredibly well-received sets from The Eagles and The Beach Boys by playing all 10 "Captain Fantastic" songs in order, with few having ever heard them before, his complicated relationship with his mother - but the one I'll share is what he thought after seeing and hearing The Sex Pistols for the first time:

I was in bed alone at Woodside one Sunday morning, half watching television, when a guy with bright orange hair suddenly appeared on the screen and called Rod Stewart a useless old fucker.  I hadn't really been paying attention, but now I was suddenly riveted: someone slagging Rod off was clearly too good to miss.  His name was Johnny Rotten, he was wearing the most amazing clothes and I thought he was hilarious - like a cross between an angry young man and a bitchy old queen, really acidic and witty.  He was being interviewed about the burgeoning punk scene in London by a woman named Janet Street-Porter.  I liked her, too; she was gobby and bold.  In absolute fairness to Rod, Johnny Rotten appeared to hate everything - I was fairly certain he thought I too was a useless old fucker.  Nevertheless, I made a mental note to ring Rod later, just to make sure he knew about it.  'Hello, Phyllis [Elton's pet name for Stewart], did you see the TV this morning?  This new band were on called the Sex Pistols and, you'll never believe this, they said you were a useless old fucker.  Those were their exact words: Rod Stewart is a useless old fucker.  Isn't that terrible?  How awful for you.' 

I didn't really care what they thought of me.  I loved punk.  I loved its energy; attitude and style, and I loved that my old friend Marc Bolan immediately claimed he invented it twenty years ago; that was just the most Marc response imaginable.  I didn't feel shocked by punk - I'd lived through the scandal and social upheaval that rock 'n roll provoked in the fifties, so I was virtually immune to the idea of music causing outrage - and I didn't feel threatened or obsolete by it either.

From that passage, you can appreciate the humor, the candor, and above all the clarity that Elton had about where his own career fit into the larger spectrum of rock 'n roll history.  Even then, he knew that his time in the zeitgeist was over, but as subsequent albums proved, he didn't try to change what he was.

A passage on the book's last page provides a blueprint for how Elton has looked at his life: "I live and have lived an extraordinary life, and I honestly wouldn't change it, even the parts I regret, because I'm incredibly happy with how it has turned out."

With "Me" and the film "Rocket Man," Elton is back in the spotlight in a way he hasn't been for a long time.  Here's hoping that a new generation of fans will discover his work.

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.

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.

A Dangerous Man (Robert Crais, 2019)

My introduction to Robert Crais came courtesy of my late Aunt Lenore.  She was always a voracious reader, but after retiring she became whatever status is beyond that - I can't even think of an appropriate word.  I'm pretty sure there were times when she could finish three novels in a day.  For the most part, she read crime novels, and after a while she simply ran out of room to store them.  She'd put together boxes of paperbacks, letting me take whatever I wanted, sometimes making a suggestion or two.  And that was how I ended up with "L.A. Requiem,"  the 8th Crais novel to feature his star protagonists, Elvis Cole and Joe Pike.

Little did I know that not only was "Requiem" Robert Crais' masterpiece, but also one of the great crime novels of the past 50 years.  In a way, it was also a turning point for Crais, as if he realized that it was going to be really difficult to ever top - particularly if he didn't take a break from Elvis and Joe.  So he did, writing a couple of standalone novels which introduced new characters before resuming the saga of Elvis and Joe.  After that, the Elvis/Joe novels were a bit different.  Some have been billed as "Elvis Cole novels" and some as "Joe Pike novels," but since they all included both characters, Crais seems to have settled on "Elvis Cole and Joe Pike novels," although in some Cole gets more "page time," and in others it's Pike.

Pike is the lead in "A Dangerous Man," and the story begins with him.  He's making a deposit at the bank, and as Isabel Roland - the teller who handled his transaction - walks out for an early lunch, she is forced into a van by two kidnappers.  Pike overcomes the kidnappers, ensures they are arrested, and makes sure Isabel makes it home safely.  Upon their release on bail, the kidnappers are murdered, Isabel vanishes, and the game is afoot.  The story is full of dangerous men - Hicks, Riley, Ronson, Stanley, "the Cowboys" - but none are so dangerous as Pike and Cole.  Over the course of the story, they begin to unravel the mystery of Isabel, and why she would be of interest to so many dangerous men.  John Chen, LAPD criminalist (and neurotic) extraordinaire, plays a part in the story, as do various members of the LAPD, LA Sheriff's Office, and US Marshals.

As always the book is tightly written, and as always the book is suspenseful.  It's a good and fun read, but it also feels slightly as if Crais was going through the motions - he's gone the "Elvis and Joe save damsel in distress" route on more than one occasion, and it's unclear whether this entry adds anything to their history and lore that we didn't already know.  You'll never hear me complaining about a novel written by Robert Crais and featuring Elvis Cole and Joe Pike.  But I don't think "A Dangerous Man" represents top tier Crais, or top tier Elvis & Joe.

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.

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.

Jeff's Top 30 Albums of the 2010s

This list started coming together late last summer, when I'd decided to give the ole blog a reboot.  I don't have a database of my album purchases per se, but I've manually digitized every purchased CD since the early 2010s, which makes it easy to sort by year.  Working from that, I then consulted the key year-end polls from the decade, just to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything.

That led to a working list of about 50-60 albums.  There were a handful that I knew would be at or near the top, but trying to delineate, say, between #25 and #26, was more of a chore.  When it came down to brass tacks, I went with the one that I listened to more often. 

Without further ado:

1. Drive-By Truckers: American Band
2. Kendrick Lamar: DAMN
3. Arcade Fire: The Suburbs
4. Hamilton: Original Broadway Soundtrack
5. Vampire Weekend: Modern Vampires of the City
6. James McMurtry: Complicated Game
7. Pistol Annies: Interstate Gospel
8. Beyonce: Lemonade
9. Counting Crows: Underwater Sunshine (Or What We Did On Our Summer Vacation)
10. Bruce Springsteen: Wrecking Ball
11. The National: Trouble Will Find Me
12. Kanye West: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy
13. Drive-By Truckers: English Oceans
14. Alabama Shakes: Sound & Color
15. Jason Isbell & The 400 Unit: The Nashville Sound
16. Rosanne Cash: She Remembers Everything
17. Sleater-Kinney: No Cities to Love
18. Future Islands: Singles
19. Vampire Weekend: Father of the Bride
20. Kendrick Lamar: To Pimp A Butterfly
21. Sufjan Stevens: Carrie and Lowell
22. Bettye Lavette: Things Have Changed
23. Jack White: Blunderbuss
24. John Hiatt: The Open Road
25. Angaleena Presley: American Middle Class
26. Old 97's: Most Messed Up
27. Blood Orange: Freetown Sound
28. The Highwomen: The Highwomen
29. David Bowie: Blackstar
30. Daft Punk: Random Access Memories

It's rare that a band's eleventh album is their best - hell, it's rare that bands exist long enough to record eleven albums.  But there's no other conclusion to reach than to go with DBT for the #1 spot.  English Oceans was a step forward for the band, particularly for Mike Cooley.  But American Band went well beyond that - a remarkably poignant, cogent and hard-hitting statement about the world, and far more political than anything they'd recorded before.

Some other quick thoughts:

- Without a doubt, Kendrick Lamar is the Artist of the Decade.   Good kid, m.A.A.d city just missed the cut, and there are many (at least one of my two sons, for example) who consider it his best.

- At the dawn of the decade, it would probably have been fair to say that the most unlikely type of album showing up on my list would be an Original Broadway Soundtrack.  But there's just no questioning the brilliance of Hamilton.  If you haven't seen it, by all means try to get there - wherever "there" might be.

- Pretty good decade for Vampire Weekend, especially when you consider that they took most of it off.  I was never sold on 2010's Contra, which always felt too fussy to me, but a lot of people think it's their best, and it's showing up on a lot of "Best of Decade" lists.  For me, Modern Vampires demonstrated a musical and lyrical depth that they're unlikely to top again.

- James McMurtry is proof that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree - the stories he tells on Complicated Game would fit right in on one of his father's story collections.

More to come...

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.

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.

Jeff's Top Ten Albums of 2019

Well, it should be obvious by now that the Top 50 Songs of the Decade series won't be finished before year's end, unless I was talking about 2020 (which I wasn't).  So we'll take a brief break from the countdown to focus on the best albums of 2019.  You can see which albums I bought over on the side of the blog - and there were a lot of good ones this year, which made this chore way more difficult than I originally anticipated.  I'm comfortable with this list, but no doubt over time the sands will shift here and there - they always do.

I'm indulging in a bit of fantasy by allotting points on the Pazz and Jop scale, 100 points among ten albums with no album being awarded more than 30 or fewer than 5.  I have no idea how much thought Robert Christgau put into that scale when he invented the poll...dear lord, almost fifty years ago now...but it makes as much sense as anything.  Without further ado...

1. Vampire Weekend: Father of the Bride  16
2. The Highwomen: The Highwomen   14
3. The National: I Am Easy to Find  12
4. Purple Mountains: Purple Mountains   12
5. Rhiannon Giddens with Francesco Turrisi: There Is No Other  11
6. Lana del Rey: Norman Fucking Rockwell     10
7. Billie Eilish: When We Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?  8
8. Bruce Springsteen: Western Stars   7
9. Black Pumas: Black Pumas  5
10. Neil Young and Crazy Horse: Colorado  5

After making an incredibly strong first impression, I thought for quite a while that Father of the Bride was a little on the long side, but after repeated listens, it's impossible to deny it the top spot.  It's almost as if Ezra Koenig is showing off here - the influences he's channeling are remarkably diverse, and he pulls it all off while barely breaking a sweat.

In the days (and maybe weeks) to come, I'll have a little more to say about the other albums, as well as throw out a few "Honorable Mention" candidates.