All Time Favourite Songs #70-61

70. Heartbeats – The Knife

An ambiguous documentary of the prototypical intense love affair. It’s weird; despite the passionate effusion of the synth arrangement ‘Heartbeats’ is strangely delicate, soft. The disparate soundscape is even more apparent in Andersson’s voice, its ethereal elusiveness conflicting with the fervent sentimentality of her feeling, ‘we had a promise made/we were in love’. It originally seems like a nostalgic ode to lost love (if you only concentrate on the refrain), but it’s actually a charming fable, an enlightening saga of that perfect, life-affirming romance, tweaked to the realms of fairy-tale by one of The Knife’s most benevolent compositions.

SEE ALSO: ‘Silent Shout’ – The Knife, ‘Oblivion’ – Grimes

69. Get Ur Freak On – Missy Elliott

Featuring the second eternally exuberant cry of ‘BITCH’ on this list so far, ‘Get Ur Freak On’ is brilliantly bonkers. Timbaland’s jungle drums sound out the absurdity while the creepiest bhangra sample wallows in the shadows: there’s even room for synths from some terrible 60s B movie. Missy Elliot here is cartoon, dictator and surrealist, there’s an unhinged mania to her that is somehow enchanting, even when she deviates her flow into more a traditional sing-song style there’s still a dangerous, awe-inspiring cockiness pouring through her collected façade, ‘I know you hear me loud/I scream it loud and proud’.

SEE ALSO: ‘Pass That Dutch’ – Missy Elliott, ‘Werkin Girls’ – Angel Haze

68. No Children – The Mountain Goats

The term ‘delightfully spiteful’ springs to mind. Not so much a break-up song as a promise of mutually assured destruction, ‘No Children’ exhibits John Darnielle firing on all cylinders. It symbolises his shift rightwards from his lo-fi folk leanings, and he celebrates the betrayal of his indie principles in the most viciously hateful way. As you’d expect from Darnielle he wittily lays out sprightly, buoyant guitar/piano riffs while devastating his wife with the most prejudiced discourse. They’re not getting divorced, they’re fated to drown together in a spiral of animosity, ‘hand in unloveable hand.’ It’s precise, ruthless, uncompromising, completely intolerant resentment, and I love it.

SEE ALSO: 'This Year' – The Mountain Goats, 'The Mess Inside' – The Mountain Goats

67. Car – Built To Spill

Alongside Pavement, Built To Spill are my favourite 90s Alt-Rock band. I have a lot to thank them for: finding the Holy-Grail middle ground between Sonic Youth’s angstscapes and Pixies’ Indie Rock formulations, inspiring Isaac Brock in The Lonesome Crowded West, and writing my 67^th favourite song. They’re capable of creating eight-minute rock epics, but it’s intimate ‘pop-rock’ like ‘Car’ where Built To Spill really shine. It’s a catchy ballad, but hardly straightforward structurally, Doug Martsch’s winding lyrics sneer at songwriting conventions while the cello that accompanies the chorus delivers a magical sheen, ‘I wanna see movies of my dreams’.

SEE ALSO: ‘Carry The Zero’ – Built To Spill, ‘Else’ – Built To Spill

66. 93 Til Infinity – Souls Of Mischief

’93 Til Infinity’ is the most beautiful hip-hop song ever recorded. Its layered production is soothingly underwhelming, having more in common with Spiritualized than Ice Cube, you can’t help but love the way it circulates behind the verses. Beyond its feeling, is its meaning. The members of Souls Of Mischief recount their daily lives; women; money; food, not exactly innovative subject matter, but it’s delivered with an appealing contentedness that suggests a sort of slacker empowerment, ‘this is how we chill from 93 til…’. ‘93’ is a vision of humanity without the stresses of responsibility, an aspirational ease and breeziness.

SEE ALSO: ‘The Choice Is Yours’ – Black Sheep, ‘Concrete Schoolyard’ – Jurassic 5

65. Loser – Beck

Surely one of the most fun songs of the nineties, ‘Loser’ propelled Beck into the mainstream. It’s been interpreted by some as cool and cryptic when it’s really just silly and ludicrous, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that; ‘in the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey’ isn’t an elaborate metaphor, it’s excellently nonsensical. It epitomises Beck’s unique blend of rock, blues, folk and hip-hop sensibilities; producer Carl Stephenson loops Beck’s country guitar and (terrible) rapping while throwing his own drum and sitar tracks into the mix. It’s simultaneously self-parodic pop trash and underground avant-garde.

SEE ALSO: ‘Lost Cause’ – Beck, ‘Devil’s Haircut’ – Beck

64. I See A Darkness – Bonnie Prince Billy

Will Oldham is a strong contender for the best country singer-songwriter of all-time. There’s an inherent naturalism to him, his drunken-angel vocals hanging over the simplest, most pleasant melodies with a mystifying otherworldliness. Yet, as shown in ‘I See A Darkness’, his poetry is inescapably grounded in reality. It’s just as prudently crafted and spare as his other work, but he’s never made anything as misanthropically depressing, ‘That its dreadful antiposition comes blacking in my mind’. Heavy stuff. It’s an internalised suicide debate and a desperate hope for the camaraderie and trust of companionship.

SEE ALSO: ‘New Partner’ – Palace Music, ‘Nomadic Revery (All Around)’ – Bonnie Prince Billy

63. Insomnia – Faithless

The first six minutes of ‘Insomnia’ is the best kind of debauch. It’s gratuitously dark, depraved trance. There’s unnervingly restrained strings, downplayed drums, the faintest hint of a bassline echoing somewhere in the track’s cupboard, and it’s effectively moody house music. Maxi Jazz’s dissolute explanation of insomnia’s correlation with rave culture is equally murky. But the first six minutes isn't what makes ‘Insomnia’ great is it? No, it’s the last three. When Jazz closes ‘I can’t get no sleep’, the song takes off on a whirlwind of unforgiving, inexorable hedonistic bliss, and everybody, everywhere goes fucking mental.

SEE ALSO: ‘Red Alert’ – Basement Jaxx, ‘The Rockafeller Skank’ – Fatboy Slim

62. I Wish – Stevie Wonder

Stevie Wonder has the impossible gift of sounding jubilantly innocent while bearing an underlying tone of pensive world weariness. ‘I Wish’ is an example of this. Musically, it’s a breath-taking contest between Funk and Motown, the grooving rhythm guitar and animated trumpets (come the chorus) competing with the flustered organ/keyboard duet. Behind its orchestral funkadelica is an entertainingly wistful Wonder, as he reminisces about the happiest times of his life, the mischievous escapades, hectic family parties and long school days which made up his childhood, and, in an unspoken sadness, his desire to return to that kind of total, encompassing simplicity.

SEE ALSO: ‘Sir Duke’ – Stevie Wonder, ‘Superstition’ – Stevie Wonder

61. Hurt – Nine Inch Nails

‘Hurt’ isn’t subtle, refined or clever. It doesn’t define a generation or genre. It’s not anthemic, not necessarily thought-provoking, and it’s certainly not easy listening. In fact, it’s heavy-handed and laboured to the point of nauseating self-indulgence. But, it’s possibly the most vehemently cathartic song ever written. Disjointed white noise filters through while Trent Reznor’s protagonist breaks down over his drug addiction, bottomless depression and reliance on self-harm; his difficulty in finding a reason to live despite his pain. It’s insufferably abrasive. Johnny Cash’s cover somehow invests Reznor’s purging with even greater pathos.

SEE ALSO: 'The Hand That Feeds' – Nine Inch Nails, 'Closer' – Nine Inch Nails