20. Be My Baby – The
Ronettes
‘Be My Baby’ will be forever
linked with the first time I watched my 2nd favourite Scorsese, Mean Streets. Like Scorsese’s game
changer, The Ronettes had created something intrinsically spotless while still
retaining a raw, unbridled fervour which persistently threatened to break free
and devour itself; when Ronnie Spector shrieks ‘so won’t you say you love me’,
you can physically feel the strain and passion shiver down your spine. Phil
Spektor’s Wagner-inspired ‘wall of sound’ generates a cacophonic background-it’s
overdubbed to the point of excess-but it doesn’t sound at all clustered, it
just works. Brian Wilson calls it ‘the greatest pop record ever made’; number
14 may disagree, but it’s a seriously close call.
SEE ALSO: ‘Heaven Must Have Sent
You’ – The Elgins, ‘When You’re Young And In Love’ – The Marvelettes
19. Life’s A Bitch –
Nas
With Illmatic, Nas was leading the line on New York’s Rap revival; his lyricism
deeply contemporary (you can find a pop culture reference in almost every line) yet
spiritual and contemplative, and his production lavish with kick drum beats so
thick you bounce off them with every thump. ‘Life’s A Bitch’ is debatably the
highlight; gangsta rap with a philosophical edge. Nas and AZ tackle
existentialism head on, musing on their lives’ significance and purpose, and
the significance and purpose of life in general, ‘keeping it real, packing
steel, getting high/cause life’s a bitch and then you die’. The hazy sample in
the background validates Nas’ dreamy despondency, before it glides out on a
jazzy, answerless trumpet solo from Nas’ dad.
SEE ALSO: ‘NY State Of Mind’ –
Nas, ‘Halftime’ – Nas
18. I Know It’s Over
– The Smiths
‘I Know It’s Over’ regresses from
one of Rock’s most forlorn break-up songs into a loathing self-deprecation,
Morrissey reverting the blame of his lost love exclusively to his personal
faults; his narcissism, his inability to connect, his intellectual
exhibitionism, his near-sociopathic apathy. It’s magnificent the way he plays
on the image of ‘the soil falling down over [his] head’ throughout, and the
ceaseless repetition of that word ‘over’ infers the growing, panicky distress
that he’ll never find anyone who’ll truly love him. The best thing about it though,
and what makes it so affecting, is its lack of any apparent structure; it’s a stream
of consciousness, Morrissey just sings whatever enters his enduringly conflicted
mind. Insecurity this heartfelt is rare.
SEE ALSO: ‘Meat Is Murder’ – The
Smiths, ‘I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish’ – The Smiths
17. “Heroes” – David
Bowie
It’s now David Bowie’s turn to
drag us from the downbeatism of this Ten, up into the echelons of individual empowerment
and celebration. Sure, Bowie’s made songs which are technically better (‘Starman’,
‘Life On Mars?’), more universally cherished (‘Changes’, ‘Rebel Rebel’) and
more archetypal of his sound and tone (‘Ziggy Stardust’, ‘Space Oddity’), but
has he made one as explicitly, matchlessly uplifting as ‘Heroes’? I thought
not, although you wouldn’t expect anything less from collaborating with Brian
Eno. The aloof, sustained guitar elevates Bowie to omnipotent, altruistic overseer, as
he praises two lovers kissing against the Berlin wall; fighting malicious
oppression with incorruptible affection. Is it sappy? Sentimental hogwash? Entirely
ironic? Who actually cares.
SEE ALSO: ‘Life On Mars?’ – David
Bowie, ‘Sound And Vision’ – David Bowie
16. Everyday Struggle
– Notorious BIG
In ‘Everyday Struggle’ Biggie
masterfully narrates the self-examination of a nihilistic drug kingpin suffering
a mid-life crisis; he holds his own wellbeing in contempt, but he can’t bring
himself to escape. Arguments that it’s semi-autobiographical aside, it
showcases brilliantly the impudent easiness of Biggie’s flow, ‘but they don’t
know about your stress-filled day/baby on the way, mad bills to pay’, as well
as his amazing, and amazingly varied, storytelling genius. It’s authentic, cruelly
honest, and very simple; a sparse, Dave Grusin-ripped beat confirms lyrical gem
after gem. It tragically, and chillingly, foreshadowed Biggie’s own murder in
1997, but he soon became a treasured martyr of artful hip hop.
SEE ALSO: ‘Juicy’ – Notorious
BIG, ‘One More Chance’ – Notorious BIG
15. Fade Into You –
Mazzy Star
Critically lauded and adored by a
tightly knit cult of fans, Mazzy Star never really achieved the mainstream
success their dark lullabies warranted. Their one major hit, ‘Fade Into
You’, sounds heavenly, the guitar duet of country strumming and shy acoustic
chords open the doorway to Hope Sandoval’s haunting, somnolent moan. At its
core ‘Fade Into You’ is a metaphysical poem; it adopts ethereal rhetoric and
imagery to emphasise the transcendent quality of Sandoval’s unreturned,
sacrificial love, ‘I wanna hold my hands inside you’. She loses her sense of
self in a lover who doesn’t care, and together they spiral into the ‘night of
[his] darkness’. I don’t know whether to cry because it’s so lovely or because
it’s so sad. My favourite love song.
SEE ALSO: ‘Needle In The Hay’ – Elliott
Smith, ‘Halah’ – Mazzy Star
14. God Only Knows –
The Beach Boys
‘God Only Knows’ is just about
the most perfect song ever written, not only in its composition (the
victoriously blaring horns, tapping tambourines, playful piano and fuzzy
synthesisers are seamless), or its harmonies (the bridge’s bomba bas stand out as
a gloomy delight), but it has everything you could want from a piece of music.
It’s meditative, hesitative, moving, romantic, hopeful, expressive, and even a
little helpless. It runs the garment of human emotion, suggesting pain and compassion
are interrelated; ‘I may not always love you’. Its gratifying optimism
is symptomatic of The Beach Boys' legacy; you may never know whether hope is the
answer, but if you feel it, everything is okay.
SEE ALSO: ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice’ –
The Beach Boys, ‘Don’t Worry Baby’ – The Beach Boys
13. Paper Planes –
MIA
A New York Times journalist once
set up MIA in an interview so she’d appear hypocritical and shallow; her
response was to write ‘haters’, a song which clamped the NYT so viciously their
columnists will forever wince when they hear the term ‘thick as shit’. She’s
fierce as hell, but carries a sensitive ear for social angst and
topicality; Kala travels the world of
pop, each song identifying the disenchantment (and cool beats) of respective
cultures. ‘Paper Planes’ combines both these qualities; its pandemic anger at
the unfairness of a capitalist international society is levelled by its winning
eagerness for change. If there’s a more recognisable and beloved hook in pop
music than those gun blasts, I haven’t heard it.
SEE ALSO: ‘Bring The Noize’ –
MIA, ‘Bad Girls’ – MIA
12. Here – Pavement
Number 12 was a draw between the
feel-good Summeriness of ‘Gold Soundz’ and the muted self-effacement of ‘Here’.
Playing to type, I eventually opted for the latter. The instrumentation is
incongruous with Stephen Malkmus’ meta-songwriting; rudimentary snare hits and
slightly-off-rhythm guitar drones weigh down his bulky reflection on the ambiguity
of music, poetry, Art, everything. It’s a song about the subjectivity of songs;
it questions why some people love something while others hate it, ‘are they the
only ones who laugh/at your jokes when they are so bad’. The irony is that it’s
crafted so majestically I can’t see anyone disliking it. Listen to ‘Gold
Soundz’ as well though; it’s a great antithesis.
SEE ALSO: ‘Gold Soundz’ –
Pavement, ‘At & T’ – Pavement
11. Wolves –
Phosphorescent
Experiencing ‘Wolves’ for the
first time is something I wish I could return to. It’s an outstanding aesthetic
achievement, the harmony between the music and Matthew Houck’s dissonant growl
is otherworldly, almost too wonderful. It’s also lyrically spectacular,
wielding a mystifying opacity that feels at once transient and eternal. There
are theories that the wolves represent the desolate thoughts which creep into
your head before sleep. There’s the equally compelling idea that it’s a
metaphor for complete existential entrapment. The truth is that I’m not sure
what it’s about, or if it’s about anything at all, and I'm not really bothered; all
I know is that it’s probably the most beautiful piece of music I’ve ever heard.
SEE ALSO: ‘Song For Zula’ –
Phosphorescent, ‘Hope There’s Someone’ – Antony & The Johnsons
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