All Time Favourite Songs #90-81

(See start of list for rules I've set myself. Pretentious? Yes. Yes it is.)

90. U.N.I.T.Y. – Queen Latifah

Queen Latifah expands upon Aretha Franklin’s Black Power classic ‘Think’, only this time with a merciless censure of gender politics. An impertinent saxophone line signifies the calm before the storm, then Latifah crashes her way into the track bitterly spitting ‘WHO YOU CALLIN’ A BITCH?’ She references instances of street harassment and domestic abuse, sputtering her livid, and at times even exposed, verses before spelling out the inequality in the hook. ‘U.N.I.T.Y.’ is a violent denouncement of Dre and Ice Cube’s indifferent use of ‘bitch’ and ‘hoe’, and a rallying call for women to stand up and respect themselves.

SEE ALSO: ‘Doo Wop (That Thing)’ – Lauryn Hill, ‘Killing Me Softly With His Song’ – The Fugees

89. Get Ready – The Temptations

An energetic brass, piano and strings threesome establishes this statement of (romantic) intent. There’s an initial tension in the verses, Eddie Kendrick’s assertive falsetto wailing over one of the 60s most stomping backing instrumentals. During the chorus this gives way to a sweeping, philanthropic enthusiasm, a simple, joyful yippee (for lack of a better word). It’s wonderful, a playful warning of competitive wooing, ‘I’m gonna try to make you love me too/so get ready, get ready.’ This track symbolises Motown’s appeal to me; when most 60s Americans suffered through socio-political revolution and national paranoia, they chose fun instead.

SEE ALSO: ‘My Girl' – The Temptations, ‘Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow' – The Shirelles

88. Spooky – Dusty Springfield

The sexiest song ever written. Although originally by Classics IV, ‘Spooky’ is all Dusty’s. Her gorgeously seductive vocals waver mystifyingly while reciting a tale of neo-noir, and a lightly smiling percussion induce the smoke-drenched, dimly lit atmosphere. Dusty elucidates the excitement of meeting the handsome, rebellious, mysterious stranger; the one who asks ‘to go see a movie’, with nothing more than a charming hello. She thrills in the spontaneous breaking of dating conventions, the shameless breach of conservative protocol. It’s just so naturally cool. You feel like you’re wearing a collar-up leather jacket just by listening to it.

SEE ALSO: ‘Look Of Love' – Dusty Springfield, ‘Son Of A Preacher Man' – Dusty Springfield

87. Archangel – Burial

Burial (William Bevan) is the David Lynch of Dubstep, the Franz Kafka of Electronica, the Harold Pinter of Ambience. It’s progressive house found in the farthest reaches of the galaxy-spanning genre, the most striking arrangement of obscure, absurd sounds you’ll ever hear. ‘Archangel’ is his most perfect song, as cavernous, rhythmically off-centre drums smash against each other across a chorus of angelic… somethings. ‘Archangel’ is a tribute to Bevan’s dead dog, and the persistent key changes delicately accentuate his fraught, impenetrable loneliness and pain, ‘holding you/couldn’t be alone.’ ‘Archangel’ was allegedly written and produced in twenty minutes.

SEE ALSO: ‘Street Halo’ – Burial, ‘Endorphin’ - Burial

86. Long Live The Queen – Frank Turner

‘Long Live The Queen’ is unbearably heart-breaking to listen to, so how must have Turner felt writing it? The bright introductory riff is at odds with this elegiac lament, stressing the suddenness of Turner’s shock: ‘I was sipping on some whisky when I got the call/yeah my friend Lex was lying in hospital.’ It’s the perfect eulogy; it describes succinctly the emptiness you feel swallowing every fibre of your being when you lose someone you love, the pervading bubble of hopelessness that lingers, but also the pride you feel in commemorating them: ‘sing with all your heart/the queen is dead.’

SEE ALSO: ‘I Miss You Beau Velasco’ – The Death Set, ‘The Funeral’ – Band of Horses

85. Rid Of Me – PJ Harvey

‘Rid Of Me’ is one of the best anti-love songs of all-time, a disconcerting back-and-forth between an impossibly quiet, difficult introspection and a scarily plausible, violent confrontation. The switch is dynamic, representing the bipolar passive-aggression of the obsessive, psychotic protagonist. Harvey doesn’t explode until two minutes in, a menacingly reserved riff initially her only corroborator, before her damning refrain antagonises everyone in its path; ‘don’t you wish you never, never met her,’ which implies a multiple personality disorder among everything else. A Freudian goldmine, and a frightfully intense voyage through the fanatical psychology of a sadistic nutjob.

SEE ALSO: ‘On Battleship Hill’ – PJ Harvey, ‘Fuck And Run’ – Liz Phair

84. Pictures of You – The Cure

The highlight of The Cure’s best album, Disintegration, isn’t the vividly whimsical lyrics or the pretty, impeccably structured compositions, but how its introductions paint the band’s sonic dreamscapes before Robert Smith even utters an inescapably forlorn syllable. ‘Pictures Of You’ is as close to a (dark) fairytale as music can get, Smith’s achingly touching longing and regret, ‘I've been looking so long at these pictures of you/that I almost believe that they're real,’ (lovely line by the way) aided by the twang of Smith’s distorted guitar and Gallop’s looming, pervasive bass. A song to lose and find yourself in.

SEE ALSO: ‘Disintegration’ – The Cure, ‘Lullaby’ – The Cure

83. The Predatory Wasp Of The Palisades Is Out To Get Us! – Sufjan Stevens

Sufjan Stevens should really be a lot higher on this list. Stevens’ music is magnificently unpretentious; it peels back and reveals what we are, not instructs us on what we should be. It’s a celebration of humanity and all our faults; there’s isn’t a cynical note in his entire back catalogue. On ‘Predatory Wasp,’ an extraneous anecdote about an imaginary mutant wasp chasing his eight year-old self, he employs trumpets, clarinets and an entire backing chorus to support his gentle guitar in its illustration of his narrative; the result is a stunning homage to the gloriously incomprehensible vastness of the child’s imagination.

SEE ALSO: ‘Casimir Pulaski Day’ – Sufjan Stevens, ‘To Be Alone With You’ – Sufjan Stevens

82. Takeover – Jay Z

Jay Z’s diss track to Nas is the definitive burn. He lists almost every East Coast rapper (except for Nas) working the early Noughties as ‘running this rap shit’, demeans Nas’ commercial success ‘I sold what your album sold in my first week,’ and slates his consistency by claiming Illmatic to be his only good album. This is hip-hop decimation. With the help of a young Kanye West, the production matches the irreverent verses; bass guitars, keyboards, but it’s instrumentally minimalist. The samples, particularly ‘Sound Of Da Police’, are textbook; clever, funny and a weighty symbol of Jay’s overwhelming confidence.

SEE ALSO: ‘99 Problems’ – Jay Z, ‘Crazy In Love’ – Beyonce (featuring Jay Z)

81. Maps – The Yeah Yeah Yeahs

The final track on Fever To Tell dismisses the indie-rock/post-punk fusion which came before it. ‘Maps’ is pure ballad, a tender, profoundly moving plea for a lover to stay. Even the tribal drums hold a warm sensitivity to them. Karen O’s voice reaches invisible levels of intimacy, the cocksure bite of the past half-an-hour dissipates in an instant of repressed vulnerability: the ‘wait’ is the key here, a small murmur of unabashed, unsentimental desperation that tears you in two. The climactic bridge doesn’t feel inappropriate; if anything it’s understated, as the most ferocious apex couldn’t do Karen O’s pain justice.

SEE ALSO: ‘Y Control’ – The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, ‘Laura’ – Bat For Lashes