Dan Maftei

LO — MA:

Maybe a month or more ago, I started playing my entirely library in alphabetical order. That's why I stopped putting albums in my Slack status (which I would do whenever listening to an entire album that I thought was cool enough that everyone should know about it).
Anyways, I'm thinking now, every time a super sweet song comes up, I'll post it here. I'm halfway through, up to "LO", so y'all missed a lot, but don't worry, there's another 30GB or so to get through. Also, I'll try and restrict it to the songs that go up to 11 only, otherwise I'd be spamming the channel.

Top pick: Franco Luambo & le T.P. O.K. Jazz — Luvumbu Ndoki
I will say that I could do without 1:29 through 2:19, for purely aesthetic reasons, but that Franco had his own reasons for including it (apparently political ones). Other than that, this is premiere rhythm culled from a VERY rich and abundant catalogue. Dig that re-entry near the end.

Honourable mentions:

• Inner Life — Make It Last Forever
  For oldschool dancers. Yes, it does actually last 13 minutes, and yes, it could+should be longer (in other words: pertinent name is pertinent). I absolutely can't get enough of the synth that starts at 4:18 and carries through till the end.
• Patsy Cline — Lovesick Blues (live at the Cimarron Ballroom)
  Obligatory inclusion of Patsy Cline. Definitive live albums are miraculous when they come, and this one is by the definitive Virginia twang no less.

MB — NA:

Top pick: Can — Mushroom
In reverence of Can and their drummer.

Honourable mentions:

• Thelonious Monk — Misterioso
  Speaking of jazz... this is the Monk that I like, goofy and flowing at peak rhythm.
• Sleater Kinney — Modern Girl
  Anthemic Sleater Kinney is the best Sleater Kinney (some might say the only Sleater Kinney...)
• Curtis Mayfield — Move on Up
  Obligatory inclusion of Curtis Mayfield.
• Patti Smith — My Generation (Live)
  Obligatory inclusion of not one but two definitive renditions of "I don't need that fucking shit".

NB — OZ:

Top pick: Laurie Anderson — O Superman (For Massenet)
Brit pop charts are weird. Not sure how Laurie Anderson ever made it to #2, let alone with this. One of those rare overtly "art" songs that actually justifies its length. The low harmonies creeping up at the end complete the mood wonderfully.

Honourable mentions:

• The Raincoats — No Side to Fall In
  Resurrected thanks to Kurt Cobain, this is a treasure of an album (just look at the cover art, come on), and this lead song captures its exuberance at its peak without sacrificing the weirdness.
• Sonic Youth — Nic Fit
  I love miniatures to death (we missed Paul McCartney's "Her Majesty", but we'll see one of John Lennon's later), and this is definitive punk catharsis, with surprising variety too, as all good punk has.
• Romeo Void — Never Say Never
  I'm a sucker for attitude. The vocals are perfect, and the chorus seems like it should've launched their career.
• Fleetwood Mac — Over My Head
  Obligatory inclusion of Christine McVie. She'll come up again.

PA — RN:

Top pick: Funkadelic — Promentalshitbackwashpsychosis Enema Squad (The Doo-Doo Chasers)
For the pioneering funkateers among you. The spacious mind of George Clinton wants us to not only ask "Which one is George Clinton?", but also know, and he means really know, that fried ice cream is, indeed, a reality. I have endless respect for any band capable of steadily but surely amping up over the course of a whole 10 minutes.

Honourable mentions:

• The Wailers — Rasta Man Chant
  "Bob Marley's band", although my personal preference for Marley output, especially when Lee Perry produced (which this is not), this track stands out for its sleek starkness, which elevates not only their wonderful harmonies, but also sharpens the contrast with Marley's buttery raspiness.
• Pixies — River Euphrates
  If you don't know the Pixies, the venerable Robert Christgau writes of them: "[a] nearly flawless exercise in s&m bubblegum." There are plenty other catchier Pixies tunes (and anyone who's watched Fight Club probably can recognize "Where Is My Mind"), but this song captures a bit more of their strange side, what with those shouted harmonies and barks.
• Public Image Ltd — Poptones
  For the real enterprising weirdos among you. This is the lead singer of the Sex Pistols, FYI, but this album -- their best among a bunch so varied you've got to finally admire John Lyndon -- is grounded by their bassist.

RO — SH:

Top pick: Pavement — Shoot the Singer (1 Sick Verse)
Complicated, catchy, sinewy melodies that sound like talking, punchy indie punk guitars and drums: quintessential early Pavement.

Honourable mentions:

• Sly & the Family Stone — Runnin' Away
  This album is Sly Stone's revelatory personal statement, spacey and earthy and confined and spacious all at once. I like this single for its catchy rhythmic hook (the other is called "Family Affair", and is equally depressing and equally catchy).
• Fleetwood Mac — Say You Love Me
  Obligatory inclusion of favorite Christine McVie track. Dig the namesake rhythm section, as usual.
• Liz Phair — Shatter
  Far and away the most effective song about what its title says. "I don't know if I could fly a plane / fast enough to tail spin out your name" is interesting out of context, powerful in.
• Luomo — She-Center
  In retrospect, I see why Luomo likes this album (his first) the least: it's too murky, too minimalist, which funnily enough are the very reasons why fans and critics like it the most. This is my personal favorite track, for its absolute unit of a bassline.

SI — SN:

Top pick: The Kinks — Sitting by the Riverside
I'm not sure how artists like Ray Davies come along, all vision and melody and songcraft. And to be so in the wake of the Beatles and all those other 60's explosives seems harrowing (which might explain his peculiarities). This song is all hazy muck, pretty and oozy and cerebral -- admittedly a personal favorite I'm not sure will hold everyone, but without a doubt Ray Davies at one of his many and varied peaks.

Honourable mentions:

• Los Hijos del Sol — Si Me Quieres
  I'm a sucker for anything even remotely related to the clave, but what really elevates this for me is the infectious chorus. Dig those "la la la"s in the re-entry.
• Kings of Leon — Slow Night, So Long
  In retrospect, it's not hard to see the future arena rock Kings of Leon in their early bar band phase. This song doesn't match others in attitude (the key element to all their early music), but it features an outro packed with a restraint and twang they seem unlikely to ever match again.
• Mr Bungle — Sleep (Part II): Carry Stress in the Jaw [hidden track]
  Reeeeaaal weirdo shit. I took out the noisome actual song, and linked only the hidden outro, which was supposedly not meant to see the light of day. Not sure why: this band has gone to weirder places with equal verve.

SO — SP:

Top pick: Brian Eno — Spirits Drifting
It was either this or "St Elmo's Fire", both tracks from the ethereal "Another Green World". In the end, since it's ultimately Fripp's solo, fading in and out of existence and rising out of the ashes like a phoenix, that steals the song from Eno, I'll go with the closer, which I imagine is what the heat death of the universe sounds like.

Honourable mentions:

• Mississippi John Hurt — Spider, Spider
  The story goes that when Segovia heard a student play a John Hurt recording, he asked "Who's the other guy?" The 1928 Okeh Recordings are a must, especially for blues fans, but really for anyone who's had the heavy side of early blues hammered at them as if all there is to it is horror and bartering with the devil. His rediscovery in the 60's, shortly before his death, show him as strong and supple as ever.
• Heems — Soup Boys
  Post-Das Racist Himanshu is overtly serious to his own detriment, but who can blame him? If art is personal expression (it probably is) then the answer is "no one". Chorus: "That drone cool, but I hate that drone / Chocolate chip cookie-dough in a sugar cone / Drones in the morning, drones in the night / I'm tryina find a pretty drone to take home tonight." This from the same album that gave us "Water is my friend / It keeps me from dying."
• Nicolas Jaar — Space is Only Noise if You Can See It
  Play heavy with good bass or not at all.

ST — ST:

Top pick: Marvin Gaye — Stubborn Kind of Fellow
For that chorus.

Honourable mentions:

• Frank Ocean — Strawberry Swing
  For that swing.
• J Dilla — Stop
  For that "Stop!".
• Outkast — Stankonia (Stanklove)
  For that lurch.
• Allman Brothers Band — Stand Back
  For that rhythm.

SU — TA:

Top pick: James Brown — Talkin' Loud & Sayin' Nothing
If this doesn't catch you immediately within the first two seconds (out of a paltry ~550 or so), you're probably not the intended audience. Inspirational lyric: the title.

Honourable mentions:

• Blondie — Sunday Girl
  Definitely my top Blondie track: they would've been a great pop band, but I guess there's kicks to be had making it through the CBGB circuit. Inspirational lyric: "Looks like he's in another world."
• tUnE-yArDs — Sunlight
  How to delight in feeling bad about yourself. But the real draw is, as always, Merrill Garbus, in all her songwriting and vocal prowess. She emotes like her life depended on it, which I suppose, in context, it does.
• Tom Waits — Tango 'Til They're Sore
  Oh, Tom Waits. A bit too caught up in dreamy old white dude tales of the "orient" and whatnot, sure, but it's hard to deny the lilted charm that permeates this album (and most of his others since). That half-dead piano jittering about the place completely knocks my socks off.
• The Mothers of Invention — Take Your Clothes Off When You Dance
  Zappa is only tolerable (for me) at the peaks of pop catchiness, which he reaches an admirable number of times on this album. Since we just barely missed his catchiest (and wiriest) track in "Let's Make the Water Turn Back", I felt obliged to include this one. Plus, it's got morals!

U — WA:

Top pick: The Kinks — Waterloo Sunset
I try not to post bands twice, especially ones most people already know about, but Robert Christgau did say this is the most beautiful song in the English language, and I tend to agree (as far as superlatives go, that is, which admittedly isn't very far).

Honourable mentions:

• Jimi Hendrix — Voodoo Chile
  There's a reason this 15 minute jam was reduced to a 5 minute single, but there's also a reason both ended up being included on Electric Ladyland, and that reason is probably to give Led Zeppelin a model for Since I've Been Loving You. Being more into Hendrix's rhythm playing instead of his solos, and being an avid non-fan of his songs, I'm glad I can ride this one on mood and the explosive chorus alone.
• Sublime — Waiting for My Ruca
  I first heard this in college, and am still as blown away by how much rhythm and melody can exist in so much (little?) minimalism.
• Grace Jones — Warm Leatherette
  If you're really enterprising, you'll check out the original, and maybe dig into the subject matter a little. This, on the other hand, is that rare cover which entirely subsumes the original, without marring either. Dig that rhythm (but not those lyrics: the original remains the only song to make me a little queasy).
• Built to Spill — Virginia Reel Around the Fountain
  How to undulate.

WE — XY:

Top pick: Pet Shop Boys — West End Girls
It's come to my attention that this song is not known by about as many people as know "Take On You", which makes sense, but still a little shocking, what with that monster bassline and equally monstrous drops. "In a west end town, a dead end world / East end boys and west end girls".

Honourable mentions:

• Aphex Twin — Windowlicker
  A college friend calls Aphex Twin a "synth wizard", which is entirely accurate and certainly not something I can top. His grasp over sound is astonishing, and he's got enough moody melodies (thus his popularity) and outrageous rhythms (ditto) to fill out a long discography.
• Buzzcocks — Why Can't I Touch It
  Why indeed. Dig that punchy rhythm.
• Yoko Ono — Why
  My go-to for alienating people I'm driving with, and also a great litmus test (that's hard to pass on your first try), Yoko's asking the right questions here, and answers them pretty well too on the aptly-named next track. I love this song to death because the rhythm never stops pulsating, from the bass to the drums to that driving guitar, always striving to match Yoko's energy, guitar scream for Kabuki scream.
• Yoko Ono — Why Not
  The counterpart to "Why?", with just as much groove, and just as much attitude. Bonus: Yoko's vocals are easier to take.

YA — ZZ:

OK I'm picking this back up and going through to L or whatever it was when I started a year ago

Top pick: Bob Dylan & the Band — Yea! Heavy, and a Bottle of Bread
A succinct little gem that fully captures this entire album's feeling of floating hazily down a river soaking some kind of grimy little sun. Or something like that.

Honourable mentions:

• Vampire Weekend — Ya Hey
  "Ya hey" As in "Yahweh", as in about God, which is a suitable topic for this guy (check out his college blog for uh, indie gems). So it's lyrically pretty interesting. "Through the fire and through the flames / You won't even say your name / Only "I am that I am" / But who could ever live that way? / Ut Deo, Ya Hey / Ut Deo, Deo." And the jaunty beat and melody are Vampire Weekend at its best.
• Billie Holiday — You Go To My Head
  I suspect no one has emoted quite like Billie Holiday in the history of modern singing. She fully embodies every "you go to my head", with her usual slight variations in tone, rhythm, feeling.
• Ernesto Djedje — Zadie-Bobo
  Groovy 70's (I think?) funk from Nigeria (I think?) Bouncy smooth heavy funk (I'm pretty sure about this one).

TB — TY:

I forgot I had skipped this! Every week is difficult, but this batch of 19 takes the cake. I can't do any justice here, so I'm going to winnow on a whim and give you way too many songs.

Top pick: The Clash — Train in Vain
The Clash is something of a miracle. Here they're punchy, danceable, poppy, punky, etc. As usual.

Honourable mentions:

• Grateful Dead — Turn On Your Love Light
  Yes, the drum solo and whatnot in the middle do dip, but when this is on, it's on in the fullest way that this then-impeccable troupe of jam band musicians could muster.
• Elvis Presley — Trying to Get to You
  Young Elvis is something of a miracle too, as is Scotty Moore, at least when he's at his most inventive, which he is here, weaving in and out of focus but constantly playing. This is the song I play to people who think Elvis's crooning is a joke.
• Marvin Gaye — That's the Way Love Is
  Can't get enough of that bassline, or the grit in the verses.

TB — TY:

The hipster version.

Top pick: Wire — Too Late
Wire's apocalyptic fervor is a blessing, especially when played t-t-t-t-t-t-t-too-too-too-too loud, which is the only way to play this. This from a band who was too shy to record their first album facing the sound booth (or so I heard).

Honourable mentions:

• Meat Puppets — Tumblin' Tumbleweeds
  Dig those vocals moving in and out and with that hazy backdrop. More adept than they lot on, as usual.
• Dat Politics — Turn My Brain Off
  Sort of the embodiment of its key lyric: "Today I think I've had enough now, / So can you please / Turn my brain off?"
• J Dilla — Two Can Win
  Love how bouncy that bass is, and the rhythm lets the hook hit as hard as it can, every single time.

Non — Alphabetic:

Top pick: Aphex Twin — 4
This shares with the synth wizard's other most popular tracks a catchy, bittersweet melody, which is usually what's lacking to top off the mind-bendingly frantic drums that drive all his music. And like all good electronic musicians, he loves his little moments. "Yeah."

Honourable mentions:

• Earl Sweatshirt ft Domo Genesis — 20 Wave Caps
  I all but fucking hate just about every lyric Odd Future has put to tape, but at their best, it's the beat that drives the interest and the flow that matters most, both of which are top notch here, especially the former. Dig that loopy bass.
• Nine Inch Nails — 13 Ghosts II
  Nothing's likely to top Robert Christgau's "musically, Hieronymus Bosch as postindustrial atheist; lyrically, Transformers as kiddie porn" as a description of NIN's early ethos. But this is not early NIN, this is late, mellowed-out Trent Reznor. Of the 50 or however many instrumentals on this surprisingly comprehensive album, I like this the most, because it fully captures the beautiful, driving calm that Reznor has probably searched for from the very start.
• Azealia Banks — 212
  Just about perfect from start to finish, seamlessly transitioning between three very different vocal deliveries, this is stylstic and brash and honest all the way through. Probably prophetic of her being such a horrible human being.
• —
  

AA — AH:

Internet explorer bored a hole straight into my soul halfway through writing these, so I apologize for any loss of chipperness.

Top pick: Raincoats — Adventures Close to Home
One of Kurt Cobain's favorite bands, this lead single captures their peculiar and personal intensity perfectly. Even the venerable Robert Christgau pointed out there's no way to tell which side of the "pro-am" fence they're on (as in professional/amateur), so I might be the only one who thinks they're much more in control of their artistic output then they apparently let on. Every little drum beat and guitar lick is placed with intent. The real oddity is how something so put together can be so moving.

Honourable mentions:

• The Mountain Goats — Against Pollution
  I know the vocal delivery can sound silly, but his diction (or maybe it's his elocution?) really is a tour-de-force, to quote Robert Christgau again. Inspirational lyric: "A year or so ago I worked at a liquer store / And a guy came in / Tried to kill me / So I shot him in the face / I would do it again / I would do it again." But what does it for me is that constant rhythm, always moving in the heaviest way possible, courtesy of that bass drum and those two piano notes.
• Talk Talk — After the Flood
  This bizarro album of loose jams performed by a million people and spliced together in post is too honest to be in any way pretentious, but I'll be damned if everyone involved isn't an Artiste with a capital A. This is the only track I consistently listen to, because its harmonies sound almost composed ahead of time. And that drum beat keeps moving eternally.
• K'Naan — The African Way
  r h y t h m. "I knew the doctor was shocked when I first dropped, cuz I had a gold chain, a fade, and a high top."

AH — AL:

Well that sure was a lot of songs starting with "All"...

Top pick: Billie Holiday — All of Me
As if to make up for lost time (how did Billie Holiday not once come up before?), I'm already on my second song of hers in this reboot, and here's to many more. Sung in her mid-20's, clearly already preferring the more "serious" songs to the upbeat "ditties" I often enjoy more, she hits that "take all of me" as close to the real emotion as it's possible to get.

Honourable mentions:

• Franco & l'OK Jazz — Ah Bolingo Pas
  This is what good lounge music aspires to be. Rhythmic, sort of there, sort of not, always flowing. I hear if you speak Lingala Franco gets even better.
• The Magnetic Fields — All the Umbrellas in London
  A friend of a friend submitted this as her take on the world's saddest song, and though it's mostly weepy and melodramatic (this is a Magnetic Fields song after all), it's no less serious or heartfelt. "If I live through the night / it'd be all right / It would make a good song or something." Damn right. The whole thing is sublime, verse post-verse chorus and repeat.
• O'Death — Allie Mae Reynolds
  One time in college I went to an indie show and, get this, people were actually dancing, like moving their bodies (wildly) on the floor. These guys are no more southerners than CCR or any other city folk playing down home, but like CCR what matters is the music. The band has a punk fervor probably only a banjo could provide, and the vocalist screams like his life depended on it, which it kind of does.

AN — AQ:

Good one this week! Very varied.

Top pick: The Daredevil Christopher Wright — The Animal of Choice
An obscure Wisconsin band I first heard on UW college radio (all hail college radio), these three harmonize and write too well to not have reached a wider audience. Not to mention how well they can groove, which they do less than they ought to, but that's what you get from aesthetes this pure.

Honourable mentions:

• Fats Waller — Anita
  Fats strides the piano in what I am sure must be a definitive style, what with all that force, bounce, swing and rhythm all ringing at you at every hit of that snare drum (all hail jazz snare hits). This song was written to his wife and is worthy of holy matrimony.
• Phoenix — Andrii Popa
  I'm fairly certain if you start singing this chorus anywhere in Romania where there are people in or around their 50's, you'll find everyone singing along with you. I'm convinced Phoenix would have made at least some splash in the Markets That Matter (English-speaking ones) had they sung in English, but that would've defeated the Romanian folksiness they loved so much. Andrii Popa is some kind of ancient Robin Hood, naturally. I wonder how weary the communist regime was of rock music.
• Boards of Canada — Aquarius
  Underwater bass.
• —
  

AQ — B:

I’m resurrecting my old project of going through my entire library in alphabetical song order and picking out some top hits every week. I started this back in April 2018 (https://hospitaliq.slack.com/archives/CAE1S7F47/p1524671047000112), starting at L, and got sort of burnt out at XY in August 2018. I tried resurrecting it in May 2019 but only did a few sporadic entries, finishing Z and going through to AP. Now I’m back and will try to stay steady, weekly, through to K to finish the whole library!
So, without further ado...

Top pick: Kool A.D. (feat. Kassa) — Arrested Development
Back in Das Racist, I wouldn’t have thought that Kool A.D. and Heems could be so wonderful on their own, considering how the former is in constant danger of being overly non-sensical with his non-sequiturs and the latter of forgetting that humor is what defined their wisdom. But here, Kool A.D. provides one of the tightest, artsiest, wisest verses to ever drop over a dope-smoking beat. Inspirational verse: “Yo these girls are smart, man / I’m trying to figure out how play my part, man / Ya I don’t know how to start, man / The strangest organ is the human heart, man”. Or is it “Recycled like, half a verse / But that’s art, man.“?

Honourable mentions:

• Louis Jordan — Azure Te
  It speaks to the strength of this sadly forgotten but once top of the pops vocalist / instrumentalist that even his “ordinary stuff” (to quote Robert Christgau in a similar context on Muddy Waters) is this strong. The rhythm here, from the vocals to the beat, is so so soothing without ever losing its momentous drive, which I suspect is why it hits me more than it might you. Like all good blues, it’s hard to stick to your azure te no matter how in the dumps you are when listening to this.
• Aphex Twin — Avril 14th
  Long-time listeners will know my affinity for miniatures. This gem of a piece has neither the breakneck skipping drums Aphex Twin is known for, nor does it have a single hint to belie his “electronica” genre. What it does have is a pretty, melancholic melody, which grace all his best tracks, and an underwater piano sound that I’m sure he’s proud of.
• Ricardo Villalobos — Bahaha Hahi
  I saved the weirdest for last even though there is a bass entry at 4:19 that I don’t think any lover of music can deny enjoying. My first girlfriend said of the opener on this album that “it sounds like it never starts”, which, speaking of a 10 minute piece, is as accurate a piece of criticism as I could ever come up with. When I say “criticism” here I don’t mean in the negative way (although she did), I mean it’s a telling description of what your brain is dealing with when listening to Ricardo Villalobos. Like in all micro-house, of course, the details are in the scratches and skips, plenty here, but me, a sucker for a big bouncy beat, always return to that bass. I’m sure it wouldn’t be nearly as sweet if I didn’t have to wait over 4 minutes for it, or if it repeated more than twice.

BA — BE:

Top pick: Pavement — Best Friend's Arm
Peak Pavement must certainly vary by taste, what with Stephen Malkmus (et al?) touching on many indie rock tropes, nerves, and qualities, but for my money, the raucous catchiness of the first half giving way to the controlled disintegration of the second hits all the best marks for anyone into, well, raucous catchiness and controlled disintegration.

Honourable mentions:

• Drums — Best Friend
  Singing jauntily about tragedy is nothing new, and often bathetic, but here, there is enough pathos in both singing and melody to justify the subject matter, and well more than enough jaunt in both beat and melody to carry the tune by itself.
• Bob Dylan & the Band — Bessie Smith
  The Basement Tapes might well be the best album of Dylan’s long and storied career, if such a thing were possible. But while the Band’s contributions have gotten their fair share of negative press — “interruptions” instead of “contributions” — I say they not only match the rest of the album sonically and rhythmically — floating down a murky river, to paraphrase Robert Christgau — but provide a touch of normalcy to whatever bizarre shit must be going on in Dylan’s head. Garth Hudson’s organ solo here is certainly the best rock organ solo I’ve ever heard, floating not down a murky river, but ever and ever higher into the stratosphere, like all good solos should.
• Twin Sister — Bad Street
  The re-branded Mr Twin Sister started out their career, as far as I can tell, with two fairly monster, strongly hazy, bass-heavy disco “hits”, all adjectives I’m down with. Dig that tom hit introducing the first verse.

BI — BO:

Well, it was extremely hard to narrow this down... for the sake of name-dropping (relatively) obscurer stuff, let me just mention that Springsteen’s Born to Run, CCR’s Born on the Bayou, and New Order’s Blue Monday were all part of this group, all of which are probably worth knowing more than the songs that actually made the cut.

Top pick: Joni Mitchell — Both Sides Now
The key to making the singer-songwriter shtick stick is not so much in either singing nor songwriting — good singers and good songs abound aplenty — but in turning your own experiences outward in a way that resonates with listeners as if they were the singer-songwriter. I won’t speak to how successful Joni Mitchell has been in that regard, but I can say this first hit of hers hits the mark exceptionally well. Inspirational verse: "I’ve looked at love from both sides now, / From give and take, and still somehow / It’s love’s illusions I recall, / I really don’t know love at all."

Honourable mentions:

• Jimmie Rodgers — Blue Yodel no. 4 (California Blues)
  Dead at 33-or-something by TB, leaving behind a legacy that belies his woefully short Wikipedia, “his refined style […] is too cryptic to pin down,” to quote Bob Dylan, one of his many acolytes. For modern ears, such simple music sounds neither refined nor cryptic, so tune in to the voice: its directness, its shadings, almost conversational, and ask yourself what 1960's modern, cryptic, refined singer it reminds you of.
• Upsetters — Black Vest
  Lee Perry and his studio band the Upsetters are peak dub, because they retain all the murk and sludge hazy stoners are looking for without sacrificing the tunes the rest of us bystanders might stick around for. Personally, I go for their happier major key songs (as opposed to their minor key apocalyptic ones): I like my murk and sludge to settle in contently, and the apocalypse won’t be hazy anyways.
• Pere Ubu — Blow Daddy-O
  Smarter critics than me will have more to say about Pere Ubu, and in any case, instrumentals like this are not, I think, what put the band on the map. But the rarely have they kept it so weird yet so controlled, and weirdness certainly is what kept both fans and critics coming. The control is just for me.

BR — C.:

Top pick: Joanna Newsom — Bridges & Balloons
Cue in to the voice first. “Oh my love” has few competitors in either rendition or directness of feeling, and that’s just before “Oh it was a funny little thing”, ditto. And there’s verses too! Then cue in to the harp, pricklier than it might initially seem. Finally, cue in to the mood, and recall Robert Christgau: “In the worst of times, music is a promise of better things to come.”

Honourable mentions:

• Pixies — Brick is Red
  To reduce Pixies to “bubblegum S&M” or somesuch (I’m quoting Xgau again, and again, and again…) is a little, well, reductive, but damned if I don’t see it. The bubblegum is clear, even here, in one of their rawest, jaggiest, together-but-seemingly-falling-apart songs. The S&M too. But what strikes me is just how punchy the band could be in their early days, thudding together as one.
• David Bowie — Breaking Glass
  James Brown — yes, that James Brown — was so taken by one of David Bowie’s songs that he just up and copied the rhythm for one of his own. I’m no Bowie expert or even casual fan, so I can’t speak to how often he straight rips through the fabric of time like he does here, but even a few such cuts ought to be enough to put rhythm in his list of extraordinary talents, which, again, as barely a casual Bowie fan, I rarely see discussed. Dig the slink.
• Javelin — C Town
  Yeah, yeah, I gave up on CREAM, Burn Hollywood Burn, Broadway Jungle, even Anderson .Paak’s Bubblin’ to include this one, but I don’t feel bad. For one, you’ve heard of Wu-Tang Clan, Public Enemy, and Toots & the Maytals. For two, it allows me to plug Gunshow Comic, a horror comedy webcomic of a few inimitable highs (keyword “few”), one of whose comics drew inspiration from this song: http://gunshowcomic.com/517

CA — CH:

Top pick: Liz Phair — Canary
Liz Phair’s debut album is rightfully lauded primarily for its lyrics, the whole of which I can’t even begin to critique here, massive as the task would be. This is my favorite of all its songs because of how it manages to make its metaphysical statement so clear and deliberate: “I learn my name / I write with a number 2 pencil / I work up to my potential / I learn my name” has been burned in my brain ever since I first heard it many many years ago. The overtly sexual “I come when called / I jump when you circle the cherry / I sing like a good canary / I come when called” works on much the same level. To summarize that other metaphysical philosopher Hamlet, about the best we can do in life is to learn our names, despite the futility of our actions: “I come when called” — don’t we all.

Honourable mentions:

• Marlena Shaw — California Soul
  I’m pleasantly surprised to see this banger at 4 million and change views on YouTube. Sure, it’s catchy as hell, but it speaks to Ashford & Simpson’s signature talent that they managed to bury an intangible melancholy (or is it nostalgia? bittersweetness?) into something so poppy.
• Broken Social Scene — Cause = Time
  As if Motown wasn’t be-all proof, let it never be said that money-first businesses have no place in art. I first heard this song on a mixtape released by American Eagle in 2003 that made its way in my mailbox for reasons I don’t entirely recall. I get the feeling it wasn’t the carefully curated product of a bunch of marketing suits, but a minor labor of love of some angsty wannabe hipster at the company. Dig the explosive riff at 2:52.
• Kentucky Colonels — Chug-a-lug
  What I love about this minor live album from a strangely minor bluegrass band (considering its guitarist was Clarence White, later of the Byrds) is the humor they infuse in all their songs, followed closely by their tight, grit-filled harmonies. Here we have a bit of both, in a love letter to drinking a little too much country wine.

CI — CQ:

Top pick: Bob Dylan & the Band — Clothes Line Saga
I’m sure more has been written about even this song than even I could blather out, Dylan being Dylan and all, so let me just mention my hot take: when the song subtly shifts gears at 1:56 with Garth Hudson’s crunchy organ hits, Dylan enters some sort of metaphysical whimsy that to my ear is matched only by Liz Phair’s Canary (see above) and Hamlet (see above again). Inspirational verse: “Well, I just do what I’m told, so I did it, of course.” Don’t we all.

Honourable mentions:

• Vashti Bunyan — Come Wind Come Rain
  The mid-2000's hype over this re-discovered late-1960's folk singer will only touch those with the deepest folk sensibilities, nostalgic agrarians (see late Kinks), and hipsters dirtier than I — after all, it’s hard to merely feign interest in a 1970 album this unique whose impact was so much nothing that the young Bunyan promptly quit music. Much as I love folk, I’m no nostalgic — legend goes the songs were written travelling Scotland via horse-drawn buggy — so I can’t help but be largely unimpressed with most of the melodies, and bored by the meek-if-not-lazy mood that permeates them all. However, in the opener Diamond Day, with its subdued ire, and here, vibrant and content, Vashti not only pens her most memorable melodies, but elevates that meekness to something more universal.
• Chuck Berry — Come On
  Chuck Berry ought to be as culturally immortal as Elvis Presley, but that’s a whole other topic. Consider here instead the fury of the lyrics and his delivery, in one of his more sonically unique songs.
• Ray Charles — Come Rain or Come Shine
  Hone in on the breakdown culminating in the voice break and drunken trumpet at 2:16.

CR — CZ:

Top pick: Grateful Dead — Cumberland Blues
I’m a bit at a loss for words as to why this album is peak Grateful Dead, when it’s barely Grateful Dead at all, at least not in the way the stoned-out jam band is known. I’m a little less at a loss for words as to why this song is peak Workingman’s Dead. Is it the tight harmonies — “not as pretty as CSNY, but prettiness would trivialize them”, to quote Robert Christgau — here on full display, in beautiful contrast with the non-harmonized verses? Is it the melodies, catchy as all hell — I could sing them all day — constantly changing, from refrain to refrain? Is it the jam country vibe, propped up but never overtaken by quick, short solos?

Honourable mentions:

• Idles — Cry to Me
  This cover of a Bert Berns song first popularized by Solomon Burke in 1962 is stronger in this version, by a band whose entire existence is premised on the healing power of anger, not in giving in to it, natch (it’s 2022, we all know some basic psychology), but in declaring yourself to the world, grievances and pain and all (ditto). Not only does the vocal delivery want you to know that “loneliness a waste of time”, but it really wants you to know that you can always “cry to me.”
• Madvillain — Curls
  Long-time readers will know my love for miniatures. This song, all of one minute and 30 seconds, is Madvillain condensed: blurry cartoon villain beats, outlandish rhyming, legendary boasts. Check out all three at 0:35: “Then he turned four and started flowin’ to the poor / That’s about when he first started going raw.” There’s an entire essay to be written about Daniel Dumile, but let’s just start here. There’s also a video out there of Tyler, the Creator going ape at a concert when he hears the very first second of this track.
• Neil Young — Cripple Creek Ferry
  Second verse same as the first — Long-time readers will know my love for miniatures. This song, all of one minute and 30 seconds, is, umm, something condensed (not quite pop, not quite Neil Young, but something): Dig how the rhythm in the melody falls in line when the “verse” starts at 0:30.

DA — DE:

Top pick: Etoile de Dakar — Dagotte
I’m so glad the blog my college music bud started with me in 2011 is still, apparently, up on Google’s servers, because despite the amateurish try-hardness of the writing (as opposed to today’s moderately refined try-hardness), I do pin down some of the qualities that make this band, and this song in particular (although there are plenty like it), so interesting: a rhythmic complexity that ought to be impossible to externalize yet is so easy to feel, “as if every band member is playing in their own time signature and tempo”; a quote from their guitarist Badou re using the guitar as a percussion instrument; a reference to the tama as a “talking drum”; and the usual fare about Youssou N’Dour’s buttery voice. Do buy their Rough Guide entry from 2002. And don’t check out our blog.

Honourable mentions:

• Standard Fare — Darth Vader
  “Her lyrics and inflection are astounding”, I commented nine years ago, apparently, on this very video. The way she lands her “my love” floored me then and has continued to do so ever since: not declamatory, just assured, not reserved, just worn out, as if from trying for too long to convince her love that no, she’s not Darth Vader, she won’t abandon him. Doesn’t hurt this is one track her band’s simplicity, always locked in on her, is also locked in on a tilt that serves the relaxed mood perfectly.
• LCD Soundsystem — Daft Punk is Playing at My House
  James Murphy is quintessential hipsterism at its best, for my money — weird because he likes it, not because it sells; referential because he wants to, not because he can; cool because he is only and always himself, not because he tries to be. I mean, there’s a cowbell solo in this one for chrissakes. And may I remind you, Daft Punk is playing at his house, not yours.
• The Fugs — Defeated
  The Fugs are nowhere near as wise and universal as I suspect they believe they are. Maybe it was a bigger deal in the 60's to write lyrics like these than I make it out to be, but there’s nothing all that revelatory in pointing out lying war hawks and unkempt wage labor are downers. But I do dig their occasional melody, and there’s something cathartic in a sing-along that goes “Defeeeaaated, defeeeated / I know I am defeeated / You are defeated too.”

DI — DO:

Took a kinda-unwarranted week break but I refuse to not finish this project!
This was a funky week and a half, with a ton of songs to cull from, half of which I believe started with “Don’t”. Lots of sad cuts, but such is life.

Top pick: The Pogues — Dirty Old Town
The top pick is also the most straightforward, as the musical gods so often intend. Verse-chorus-verse-chorus-solo-repeat. So what makes this cover so special, where the original is “merely” catchy? The first time I heard this song I replayed it ad nauseam, but the nausea never came — whatever bittersweet affect this song has instead just got stronger and stronger. It must be the voice: how can something so emotive and punchy remain so enunciated and calm?

Honourable mentions:

• Sonny Rollins — Don’t Stop the Carnival
  Robert Christgau’s review of this album is as exuberant as the album itself: “exciting”, “a gas”, “fun”, all things you’d expect from what he so accurately called “a honking session.” I suspect jazz is rarely these things (even when rocking loudly) because it is so beholden to an overtly cerebral musicianship. Here instead we have quality musicianship beholden to dance, the bass slinking non-stop, the drums propelling, the sax honking the looniness out of your soul.
• Tom Zé — Dói
  The musician in me marvels at how anyone can write such wiry chord changes, let alone find a melody to sing over them. The human in me marvels at how music this weird can be so poppy. I suspect it’s the samba.
• First Choice — Double Cross (Larry Levan Remix)
  Larry Levan at the Paradise Garage inaugurated all sorts of stuff I’m nowhere near qualified to enumerate, but I can tell you his remixes hit a chord for anyone with an even remote interest in dancing in a packed crowd till the late AM’s. The song is serviceable, the lyrics righteous, the beat penetrating.

DR — EV:

I don’t think I’ve ever had a longer list of songs to cull from, and I can’t even bring myself to write a normal review of these. So, apologies for how rushed this all is!

Top pick: Sly & the Family Stone — Everyday People
Endlessly catchy, steadily thumping, aurally intense, with a powerful, simple, foundational message. In other words, Sly’s apotheosis, bar the funk (although I can’t help but feel something funky even in this four-on-the-floor groove).

Top pick #2: Taraf de Haïdouks — Dumbala Dumbala
The band name is pure western European marketing, but the band is real, and one of many like it found throughout any number of rural towns throughout Romania, although I do suspect the talent here is exceptionally rare. There’s more than enough to say about the cultural milieu that these lăutari learned their craft in, which is enough to peak foreign interest, but as usual, my own interest is purely aesthetic: breakneck speeds (here a little checked, this being a love/sex song after all), curious harmonies, and unchecked dulcet clangs of the cymbalum. NSWF if you speak Romanian.

Honourable mentions:

• sHeavy — Electric Sleep [DEMO]
  Groovy Black Sabbath.
• Thundercat — Dragonball Durag
  Always appreciative of straightforward people.
• Matthew Dear — Elementary Lover [DJ Koze Remix]
  Dig those strings falling loopily out of the sky after the scat chorus.
• Nirvana — Endless, Nameless
  Bless Kurt Cobain for leaving this on Nevermind, albeit as a hidden track.
• Franco & le T.P.O.K. Jazz — Esengo ya Mokili
  Dig the vocal call-and-response.
• Kraftwerk — Europa Endlos
  Dig the electric groove.

EX — FI:

I seem to recall having way more time back when this project started... and once again I’m stuck between too many great songs to cull, let alone write about.

Top pick: Sly & the Family Stone — Family Affair
If the previous Sly hit we saw — Everyday People — was Sly’s apotheosis as a pop hitmaker, this is his apex as an everyman singer-songwriter, a talent which, as I’ve said before, is meaningless without the “everyman” qualifier, no matter how introspective you are at your private-now-public psych sessions. Here the lyrics are cryptic enough to keep the distance without alienating anyone, but it’s the music, in all its moody glory, which hits a melancholic, hopeful chord, that I think everyone who’s lived their share can’t help but feel deeply. Of note: the production, sharp, razory, snappy, seemingly at odds with the mood the song creates (but elevating it instead, natch); the vocals, declarative, calm, punchy like the production; the lyrics. “It’s a family affair.”

Honourable mentions:

• Muddy Waters — Feel Like Going Home
  The power in this recording is, I think, owed to the performance, as palpable and forefronted as any captured in the studio — live, really, where music is inevitably at its brawniest. This of course means the sound engineering is equally important, — a truth the classical world is unfortunately unable to grasp, devoted as they are to abstract pitch — yet insignificant, much like technique, without which there is no music, yet on its own offers nothing. Strength is something Muddy Waters seems to have had on its mind, considering his comeback album (recorded in his 60's?) was named Hard Again. But the performance — guitar and vocals, really — is as intricate and delicately articulated as any.
• Scissor Sisters — Filthy / Gorgeous
  I can’t resist posting this glorious bassline, exploding in disgusting glory in a chorus fit for the escapism crowd.
• N.W.A. — Express Yourself
  I would also be remiss not posting this seminal track, which without a doubt is the bedrock for much hip-hop, in a historical sense I’d rather have Questlove explain.

FL — FR:

Top pick: Parliament — Flash Light
Critics wiser than me might be able to make something new of the George Clinton ethos, but the criticism writes itself with someone who pens lyrics like “Shit / God damn / Get off your ass and dance” (from his other band Funkadelic). I, like many, find this track to be among his best, for no particular reason other than just how god damn danceable it is, featuring what must surely be the most monster of basslines ever caught on tape. There is a 12-minute version on YouTube from a 1978 concert in Houston that perfectly captures the outlandish extravagance of their live personas, which I was tempted to link here instead of the album version, and in which Clinton throws the above Funkadelic lyric, for obvious reasons.

Honourable mentions:

• Nick Drake — From the Morning
  For my money, this is seminal Nick Drake. Not the idyllic, pastoral Drake that failed to make the folk charts buzz, nor the depressive Drake of Pink Moon, fading into the uncomfortable warmth of the womb, although a bit of both are still in force here, propping up a bittersweet hope that reminds me of Schubert at his best, nearing death. Inspirational verse: “And now we rise / And we are everywhere.”
• Liz Phair — Flower
  We’ve seen Liz Phair already — twice, actually — first on love as infatuation (Shatter) and then again on metaphysics (Canary). Here we see her at her most obscene. My take is that this track is much too put-together to be purely shock value, but only she knows. Shock or not, a statement it certainly is, declarative and without frill, as all good statements should be.
• Parquet Courts — Freebird II
  The wonder of modern music is just how easy it is to declare yourself to the world, whether anyone is willing to listen or not. Much like Montaigne writing for himself in seclusion, it’s hard to argue against artists this personal, making music, I can only assume, first and foremost for their own liking. Dig the music video. And that monster bassline.

FU — GL:

Top pick: Lipps Inc. — Funkytown (12")
It would be perverse to deny the catchiness of this curiously heavy chart-topper that presumably no critic took seriously. “An accountant’s dream”, opines Robert Christgau, “one great hook” being among the accounted. But I should point out that a) there are an endless number of hooks, let alone breaks/drops/moments, on this track, and b) this is a DJ’s, thus a dancer’s, dream — I defy anyone to not move throughout most if not all of the 8 minutes of the 12" version. Is there some purpose for music that I’m missing?

Honourable mentions:

• James Brown — Funky Drummer (pts. 1 & 2)
  It would be equally perverse not to mention this sublime piece of rhythm and mood, sampled beyond recognition for its drums, courtesy of Clyde Stubblefield, who, not credited as a songwriter (James Brown was, however), did not receive a single royalty check for the samples. I credit the rest of the band for making this a hit, rhythm alone so rarely being enough to capture audiences, strange as that may be. There is a calm punchiness to the brass hits and guitar licks, as if floating over, not sustained by, that eternal beat.
• Neutral Milk Hotel — Ghost
  I can’t emphasize enough the cult status that Neutral Milk Hotel’s second album has achieved. For many early-2000's loners, artsy high schoolers, and college hipsters, I suspect Jeff Mangum’s opus was an apotheosis of everything they held dear and precious in the world. I’m not sure what time will make of this album, and I’m not well-suited to comment on its reach and reputation, not sharing the dream-like idealism of its creator, purported to have written most of its songs locked in his closet, safe from the world. But I can’t deny the catchy, sinewy melodies — always shouted, never subtle — nor the bittersweet atmosphere its band creates, the whole of which so clearly and so successfully evokes what it’s like to see the world through this one man’s eyes, a goal in art that I find admirable and perhaps definitive. Why I chose this song over others is not entirely clear. Any one would do. But the reprise at 2:44 is some kind of peak that captures its ethos perfectly.
• Electric Wizard — Funeralopolis
  Stoner metal is a niche genre if ever there was one, an oddity considering that no one is immune to a bit of haze once in a while in their lives. Perhaps it’s the heaviness, a curious mix of submerged, spaced-out cacophony, that puts people off. So in the interest of crossing over to the rock fans, let me point out that this track includes not one but two monster riffs, the second of which actually has some momentum to it. The break between the two is worthy of arena rock.

GO — HA:

Top pick: Marvin Gaye — Got to Give It Up
Interesting to compare this with its obvious progeny, “Blurred Lines”. Smoother and calmer, it somehow ends up even punchier, a feeling I can’t quite explain. By all accounts, the drums and bass in the modern version are sizeable, clearer, here, buried deeper in a vague mix of instruments and voices. Maybe it’s the trance induced by all of its 12 minutes. Who knows. Both versions have merit, but I admit this is the one I come back to, regularly, and often. Inspirational verse: all of them.

Honourable mentions:

• Billie Holiday — Having Myself a Time
  An instant classic in its first half-second, with that jumpy, skipped-a-beat introduction, giving way to Billie’s usual interpretative talent, of which I’ve talked before, and of which not enough can be said. Buttery, conversational, filled to the brim with microtonal shading, and a myriad more. Early Billie sang songs she disliked for being if not too happy perhaps too “trivial”, but I tend to lean towards this early material, imbued as it is with that painstaking, hard-won contentedness, having herself a time in spite of all of life’s tragedies.
• Slint — Good Morning, Captain
  A peculiar little band, Slint’s renown is, in retrospect, exactly what one would expect given their eccentricities, all of which overflow in their music: distant, jagged, strange, unknowable. And as with all things distant, jagged, strange, and unknowable, the real miracle is that they hit a chord with anyone but themselves, and I for one, as listenable as I find their one album and EP, am not sure they could have done it without this one song, the closest they ever got to catchiness or songform, the usual culprits in gaining, you know, an audience. It’s said the screams at the end landed the lead singer in the hospital for bleeding vocal chords.
• Swell Maps — H.S. Art
  It was hard culling down a fourth song among many greats, but in the end, a 2 minute cacophony by a bunch of pre-punk high schoolers shouting “Do you believe in art?” has got to take the cake, on fervour alone. Why yes, I do believe in art.

HE — HO:

It’s been a while... and I’ve had some troubles letting songs pile up or not pile up enough. For example, last post [ed. note: I'm referring to the current HE-HO batch you're reading now] should’ve been split in two, what with it having spanned two weeks. Now, being as I am in the middle of a shocking number of great songs that start with “I”, let me clear out the only one that doesn’t, which REALLY should’ve been part of a double listing above [ed. note: i.e., part of this HE-HO batch], but into which I will now delve slightly deeper, to tide us over until the “I” dump.
[ed. note: The following was the original comment to the HE-HO batch, which actually had no top pick, just two lists, one called "For reference", the other "Of interest", each four songs long.] Yikes, truly too many to cull... so incoming short and sweet! I strongly recommend all of these.

Top pick: Pere Ubu — Humor Me
This is the third Pere Ubu I’ve listed, and damned if I listen to either the band or the three posted songs all that often. But the first being strange as all hell with its lullaby drone, the second apocalyptic as all hell with its literary screams, and the third some kind of apotheosis of resigned-if-bitter defiance, I couldn’t resist. Inspirational verse: “If life’s a joke / Well then humor me.”

Honourable mentions:

• Velvet Underground — Heroin
  All four of their main albums are, to paraphrase Robert Christgau, sonically unique, and worth owning.
• Kate Bush — Hounds of Love
  The young artiste (I believe the “e” is required here) pouring out her most gut-wrenching vocal performance.
• Blondie — Heart of Glass
  Their top hit. Catchy as all hell.
• Radiohead — How to Disappear Completely
  The one Radiohead mood is down in the mouth, which makes this, with its disappearing mood and disappearing “I’m not here / This isn’t happening”, quintessential Radiohead.
• Brian Eno / David Byrne — Help Me, Somebody
  A natural collaboration, as are all of Eno’s collaborations, here they are their most songful. To paraphrase one or both of the artists, when people speak emphatically, it is as if they are singing.
• Monochrome Set — He’s Frank (Slight Return)
  Dig the wild noise of the chorus. Or is it wild drone?
• Pere Ubu — Heart of Darkness
  A peculiar art-rock band, this early single is them at their most traditionally apocalyptic. “I’m staring into the / Heart of darkness.”
• Hercules and the Love Affair — Hercules’ Theme
  Punchy artsy dance music.

I — I L:

Top pick: Paul Simon — I Know What I Know
I refer anyone interested in Paul Simon’s seminal “Graceland” album to Robert Christgau for a brief introduction on its musical, cultural and aesthetic merits, oddities, and influence. The invective but accurate “[he] writes like an English major” is wittier (and meaner) than anything I can come up with, plus, I don’t much hear Simon’s words (weird, I know), with the one exception being this wonderful metaphysical statement on, to paraphrase Bob Dylan, “doing what you’re told”, or Liz Phair’s “coming when called” (see previous posts). I’m not sure what’s with me and poetic justification that action is impossible, but here we are. “Who am I to blow against the wind? / I know what I know.”

Honourable mentions:

• Colin Hay — I Just Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You
  Averse as I am to unbridled expression of the bleakest of our shared emotions, which easily end up merely dull and dispiriting, I realize my attraction to this song, perhaps among the upper echelon of breakup songs, is due to its unique ability to retain a stolid distance without renouncing an ounce of its affective power. Of course, I say unique, but Shakespeare did it already with his sonnets. On the other hand, those won’t make you bawl.
• Dizzee Rascal — I Luv U
  Raw is one of those words thrown around to describe beats that works so well without anyone (perhaps I’m projecting) understanding just what it means. Sort of like trying to make notes in a piano scale sound like “pearls on a string”. Such is the reach of words, so while raw comes naturally, I would also say this is among the jaggiest, angular of beats, that continues to surprise if not shock me every time I listen to it even 10 years after the fact. The voice and accent help too.
• The Waitresses — I Know What Boys Like
  Bless the Simpsons for introducing me to this nerdy dance band from Akron, Ohio, collecting royalty checks on the wonderful Christmas song “Christmas Wrapping”, otherwise largely unknown, the brainchild of guitarist-songwriter Chris Butler, fronted by pro-am waitress Patty Donahue, in a wonderful fusion of lyrics, beat, and bounce, if not always melody or hooks. Here, we are made privy to what boys like.

I M — I':

How can I so blithely ignore the hilarious “I Shall be Free” epic from Dylan’s first album [second], the equally hilarious “I Wish I Had an Evil Twin” by the Magnetic Fields (it’s a contender on name alone), the anthemic classic “I Melt With You”, the Kossoy Sisters’ definitive “I’ll Fly Away”, so strong a death song it is almost naive, Al Green’s presumably definitive “I’m So Lonesome, I Could Cry”, distanced like the Hank Williams original but smoother and just as heartfelt? Let this rambling be a secondary “honorable mentions.”

Top pick: Billie Holiday — I’ll Be Seeing You
Well, the answer to the above question begins with Billie Holiday. This song, which managed to overtake even The Notebok — Robert Christgau claims Billie is impossible to listen to without capturing your full attention, making it fairly awful soundtrack music — is oddly missing from many of her best ofs. Is it too slow? Too lugubrious? Is the song itself just not that catchy? I find her performance here to be among her best, for all the same myriad reasons and adjectives I’ve mentioned and already repeated in previous posts. What got me way back in 2010 when I first heard it and still gets me now in 2022 is how she ends the first verse as if it’s the last, knowing she’ll outdo herself on the second; and how she picks up the second verse from the depths of the first.

Honourable mentions:

• Louis Armstrong — I’m a Ding Dong Daddy (From Dumas)
  Somehow someone managed to steal the show from Louis Armstrong, albeit only after Satchmo’s usual declamations, in both solo and voice (as is usual), and only as a call-and-response in the finale, between Armstrong and his one-time drummer Lionel Hampton. The energy is overwhelming. I can only imagine what it would have sounded live, where, to quote Armstrong, I believe, Hampton would keep asking for just one more vamp, and another, and another, to the delight of musicians and audience alike.
• Destructo Disk — I Wish I Was a Riot Grrrl
  I don’t think there’s much that makes these newcomers unique. After decades of punk (and a century of rock, for that matter) what’s here is a best-of of the best of the genre: blistering screams, snarling vocals that betray a sense of sweetness, a thoroughly danceable bass, and anthemic lyrics. What punk rocker in 2022 doesn’t want to be a riot grrrl?
• Billie Holiday — I Wished on the Moon
  In stark contrast with “I’ll Be Seeing You”, here, Billie is at her most pining. Dig the way she hits that “for you” as the music picks up in the finale.

IB — IS:

Alright, let’s try to get this wrapped up before the LeanTaas Slack migration!

Top pick: Peter, Paul & Mary — If I Had a Hammer
Right, it’s not their song, so let’s give credit its due to Pete Seeger and Lee Hays for the revolutionary (as in, “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”) lyrics, anthemic, socialist, utopian: everything revolutionary music ought to be. There’s more to be waxed poetic about these verses then I can muster in this quick roundup, so peruse at your own benefit. This version outdoes the original in its pull, if not drive: there is a bittersweet hopefulness in Mary Travers’ delivery that must be some kind of apotheosis of the early 60's folk movement I can’t much comment on. Utopian goosebumps are a bit hokey, but a full two minutes that never let up is a miracle that must be attended to.

Honourable mentions:

• K’Naan — In the Beginning
  For once, it helps to begin with the inspirational lyric: “In the beginning there was a hum / From a poet whose pulse fell / Drum drum drum”. I was tempted to capitalise those “drums”, as their hits not only form the musical core (and draw) of this beautiful, uplifting song, but underlie the force this poet-philosopher reaches for and often grasps in his long career as a hip-hop artist. The social value Keinan Warsame gives to poet-philosophers is perhaps overdone, if not utopian, but then again, what else is there to life but living it? If I recall correctly, I first heard this song as the outro to a True Blood episode. Philosophize that.
• Van Morrison — Into the Mystic
  Van Morrison’s Moondance is a hit album through and through, in a curious, laid-back way that hits rarely are. I suspect its lasting power is the voice, to which we’ll return, but there’s certainly much audience to be gained in the “mystic” he draws on (his previous album was called “Astral Weeks”…) Where Astral Weeks, beloved with an ardour that I ought to try to understand one day, felt, to my Earthly ears at least, rather meandering and weak, Moondance plants its feet firmly on the ground, opening with a song about the radio, and keeping said feet on the ground even in songs such as this one, purportedly about falling into something greater than yourself, if you can follow most of its lyrics (I can’t), but whose climax, both musical and lyrical, starts with an Earthly foghorn calling him home. Oh, the voice: listen to said climax. I can’t think of any singer so able to belt calmly.
• Desmond Dekker — Israelites
  Dekker was never able to outdo this hit, which is not surprising: it’s catchy as all hell, fully features his ghostly alto creak, and grooves steadily and heavily.

JA — JU:

Between Jesus and Jah it was clear J was going to be loaded, but I wasn’t expecting quite this level of richness.
[ed. note: After the honourable mentions, I wrote the following:] And, just a reminder that the following songs exist, which I’m sure you’ve all heard of, but I could not resist bringing up, bangers such that they all are: Dolly Parton - Jolene, Kool & the Gang - Jungle Boogie, House of Pain - Jump Around, Bruce Springsteen - Jungleland (what with the sax and all)

Top pick: Culture — Jah Pretty Face
By most counts, a seminal reggae album, bright where much reggae is heavy, uplifting and divine where others are merely reverent and worshipful. The outro here, nearly two minutes of just “hallelujah”, gives me goosebumps every time I hear it, each “Jah” enunciated in all its cadential glory. It could be neverending, a trick reverence couldn’t pull off.

Honourable mentions:

• Minutemen — Jesus & Tequila
  The untimely death of D Boon deprived us of a singular if not always visionary songwriter-guitarist and let’s add -singer why not. His emotional range was wide, and fully fledged on this wonderful if overlong double album (as all double albums tend to be), so don’t let this be the only song of his you hear. However, the songwriting is powerful, the guitar gritty and punchy, and the voice reaches the heights promised by the title. So, do let this be an introduction to what he is capable of.
• The Vaselines — Jesus Wants Me For a Sunbeam
  A little fey to drop the “Don’t” from the title, especially given the song starts hook-first. What Robert Christgau said of the Wailers can also be said of this minor Scottish band, a favorite of Kurt Cobain’s: it’s one thing to come up with catchy title hooks, it’s another to name them, among others I will let you discover for yourself, “Jesus don’t want me for a sunbeam.”
• Al Green — Jesus is Waiting
  I quote [paraphrase] my college friend Ronny Kerr here: “If I had been alive during the early 1700's and I got to hear a new Bach cantata weekly at church, I might have been religious too.” Such is the power of this closing track off of Al Green’s perfect “Call Me” album. If Jah Pretty Face is one man’s reverberant faith beaming universal, this is one man’s inner faith pulling you in to make one two. Which, given Al Green’s penchant for sexy soul, is fitting.

KA — LA:

Top pick: Air — La Femme D’Argent
The aural equivalent of walking into a freshman dorm room full of 18-year olds discovering whippits, this French electronic duo is not quite Daft Punk’s counterpart, despite the surface similarities. Where Daft Punk went for the jugular and never let up on the dancing they so clearly crafted their music for, Air’s oeuvre tends more to the cerebral. Of course, it’s a hazy cerebral, which at its worst is just ponderous, but when the mood is right, this debut album is a hit from start to finish.

Honourable mentions:

• We — Kickin'
  A seemingly unknown Norwegian band I only know of because they or their record label sent a 15-year old me their then-upcoming Lightyears Ahead album back in 2003 for review, I was and remain struck by just how infectious their love of rock-and-roll can be, a rock that is, dare I say it?, archetypal, heavy as fuck, full of riffs and drum hits and bass drops, without sacrificing an ounce of the good time and, dare I say it?, light-hearted fun that I bet their concerts are full of. Lyrics not included.
• Tabu Ley Rochereau — Kimakango mpe Libala
  Shockingly, this is the first time I post this wonderful Congolese soukous singer, songerwriter, and bandleader, the yin to Franco Luambo’s yang (see many previous posts). And when I say yin, I do mean it: his Congo Classics 1961-1977 retrospective is called “The Voice of Lightness,” which I misremembered as “Lightness of Being”, accurate considering his vocal aesthetics permeate the very core of the music. Me being a bigger fan of Franco, I gravitate towards Rochereau’s more rhythmically inflected pieces, such as this one: dig the start-stop drops in the 3-minute outro, and consider whether you’ve heard anything so visceral stay so light.
• Phoenix — Lasă, Lasă (nr. 1)
  While we’re on this obscure roll — somehow this minor song from a 1960's Romanian rock band is the most viewed of these four picks, to the exclusion of Zeppelin’s Kashmir, Prince’s Kiss, and Rage’s Killing in the Name Of — let’s top it off with the first variation of Phoenix’s interlude from their most folkrolic album (take a peek at the album cover). The title means something to the effect of “let it be”, even if the delivery gives off more of a “fuck it” vibe.

LE — LIN:

It was a bit arbitrary where I started/stopped, so, short and sweet this week. This leaves us at “Little”, of which there are plenty songs, and “LO…“, which is where I started, so this is, I think, the penultimate post. :open_mouth:

Top pick: The Sensations — Let Me In
A top 100 Billboard hit in I want to say 1962, it’s enough to saturate multiple top picks — shall we count the ways? The bounce, propped up by boomtzy-boomtzy drums, is archetypal. The lyrics are sweet and longing, universal even, with a delivery to match. The transitions from verse to chorus to whatever are seamless, not letting up on drive or mood or melody. Rare is an emotional center so adorned by dance and tunes.

Honourable mentions:

• Olivia Newton John — Let Me Be There
  Another top 100 Billboard hit, in the 70's I believe. Dig how smooth that voice is in the verse, then listen to how it changes register, timbre, and mood in the chorus. Catchy song, too.
• Santogold — Lights Out
  Not my favorite Santogold song (that would be the abrasive and audacious Creator), but I would be remiss not to bring her up at least once. This is certainly the catchier of her debut singles, but audacious it certainly is not. Pretty though.
• Justice — Let There Be Light
  I’m very surprised Justice’s “D.A.N.C.E.” didn’t make the list, by far the apotheosis of what they can do, I would likewise be remiss not to bring them up before this project ends. Much of what makes them so interesting is evident here, from the scratchy yet heavy sound, to their signature monster bass (and bass drops), to the occasional catchy tune.

LIT — LO:

:cry: That’s all folks!

Top pick: Daft Punk — Lose Yourself to Dance
Right, you’ve heard it already. But I can’t not comment on what is, if not their best, subjective as that is, and boundless as is their bounty, certainly their apotheosis. I don’t know of any other artist, besides George Clinton, listed as one of their teachers in the wonderful “Teachers” off their debut, so solely dedicated to the joy of dance, presumably the first and I daresay the most reverent art form. But where George Clinton wanted you to get off your ass and jam (see previous posts), which is a live-in-the-moment sort of bliss, I do think Daft Punk, as perhaps befits theirs and future generations’ technological and “the world is burning” anxieties, preferred to have you forget your worries, a rather live-outside-the-moment sort of bliss. Consequently: “lose yourself to dance.” The entire piece sustains this lyric: the eternal guitar, the bittersweet harmony, the start-stop beat. Long live music.

Honourable mentions:

• Television — Little Johnny Jewel
  What is there to say about this song? I debated putting it as the top pick, being, lyrics notwithstanding, my favorite Television track, oddly missing from any album (I do think it would have fit on their remarkable debut). Then again, who cares what my favorite Telvision track is? — barely even I. Then again again, if art is one human’s vision of the world, imparted to others in the fuzzy, subjective, interpretative language of perception, perhaps it would be interesting to hear what I see in my favorite Television track, imparted to you in that very language. I’ve always felt Tom Verlaine’s delivery here to be the epitomy of cool, a non-chalant posture of caring much, much more deeply than you let on, which is not at all. Why I feel this way I can’t really explain, but I’m certain the sparse, start-stop, nearing-the-void music has something to do with it, as if every attempt at speech must be punctuated by a hard, engulfing dose of the world at large. Again, whatever that means, I can’t really say. But, and this is the one lesson I think art teaches us, at least I said something.
• De La Soul — Long Island Wildin’
  The last in our long running series of “Dan loves miniatures”, I’m not even sure what De La Soul had to do with this track other than curating it. But curate they did, and how. Robert Christgau points out that one of their strengths was finding rhythm in everything, although I must be forgetting something, since wouldn’t that fall to their producer Prince Paul? Sure, the drop when the music enters must be among the smoothest moments in hip hop’s long and illustrious history, and is the main reason why I can and will never get enough of this track, but there must’ve been a moment of clarity for the group when they heard (where?) these two Japanese rappers, flowing smoothly and rhythmically from crunchy consonant to crunchy consonant.
• LCD Soundsystem — Losing My Edge
  I’ve already waxed poetic about James Murphy before, but here he is in such a different mode I am in awe at his reach. On the other hand, as this is the theme song for any hipster going through their 30's and losing their edge, perhaps it’s not so much a different mode as it is the other side of the “Daft Punk is Playing at My House” coin. Any lover of music as infatuated as he is — and let’s be honest, if you’re still reading this, this probably includes you — ought to get an awe-filled kick from the lyrics, which will probably keep you glued to the song through all of its 8 hard-hitting minutes.