All Time Favourite Songs #40-31

40. Hey – Pixies

Pixies basically invented Indie Rock, but to confine them to any sort of genre classifications would be insulting: they’re funny and puerile yet disturbing and political: they’re childishly extravagant yet elegantly accomplished: they’re radio-friendly yet flippantly avant-garde. ‘Hey’ is Black, Deal and co. at their darkest, a pensively contemptuous blast of anti-establishment ponderings masquerading as some guy complaining about being oversexed, ‘go “uh” all night… we’re chained’. Or is it just about the emptiness of sex addiction? Regardless, the funkiness of the bass guitar gives ‘Hey’ a soulful, aromatic quality distinguishing it from an already ingeniously diverse album.

SEE ALSO: ‘Gouge Away’ – Pixies, ‘Caribou’ – Pixies

39. The Rat – The Walkmen

Even the most contemplative pickings from early Walkmen taste boisterous and unhinged, but ‘The Rat’ is off the scale. It’s not so much a song as an experience, a deranged, abrasive kick to the face. The backstory, although not necessary, contextualises well; an ex who trampled Hamilton Leithauser’s heart calls him up and voices her regret in breaking up with him. Leithauser unleashes himself and his tag team of malevolent guitars, drums and bass on her, and us, ‘you’ve got a nerve to be asking a favour’. This is pure, uncut, violent emotion powered by fury, pain and miscomprehension. After the antagonism wanes he’s left with nothing, ‘now I go out alone if I go out at all’.

SEE ALSO: ‘On The Water’ – The Walkmen, ‘Heaven’ – The Walkmen

38. Turn The Page – The Streets

Has there ever been an opening track as thematically encompassing, as tonally representative, or as downright magnificent as ‘Turn The Page’?  The most discomforting, attention-grabbing string sample begins to slap you about and refuses to stop for three-and-a-half minutes. Skinner ruminates on death and killing, specifically related to his Roman ancestry, and then coils the gaudy imagery into a promise to destroy every other Grime MC. Now, ‘I’m better than you, bruv’ tracks are hardly sporadic, Kendrick’s verse on Big Sean’s ‘Control’ being the most markedly recent, but rarely have they sounded so punishingly tense.

SEE ALSO: ‘Blinded By The Lights’ – The Streets, ‘It’s Too Late’ – The Streets

37. Da Funk – Daft Punk

Homework is still Daft Punk’s best album and ‘Da Funk’ is still Daft Punk’s best song. It was the track which united the Indie scenesters and the rave kids, its eccentric amalgamation of new-wave Trip-Hop beats (and what a beat) and, supposedly anachronistic, House song-structure crafting a dance anthem which can only really be described as ‘universal’. Daft Punk turn what should be a backing drum loop into the centrepiece, the space between each mechanic hit as important as the malleable synth line. Its greatest achievement is that its exacting precision remains undented by its determination to barrage you into wild abandon.

SEE ALSO: ‘One More Time’ – Daft Punk, ‘Around The World’ – Daft Punk

36. Christmas Card From A Hooker In Minneapolis – Tom Waits

Most songs could be improved by Waits’ gargling, slurring croon, but in ‘Christmas Card’ he adapts and eclipses the written word rather than the spoken, the lyrics being ripped from a Charles Bukowski poem, Charlie I’m Pregnant. The crinkly yet sombre jazz piano conjures up a crisp Winter evening in some nameless American city, the melodious setting of one of the most devastating pieces of music I’ve ever heard. It’s initially heart-warming, gentle, even funny, ‘I think about you every time I pass a fillin’ station/account of all the grease you used to wear’, but when the truth is blurted out in the final verse, it, and you, are inconsolable.

SEE ALSO: ‘Gun Street Girl’ – Tom Waits, ‘Hell Broke Luce’ – Tom Waits

35. Straight Outta Compton – NWA

You are about to witness the strength of influence-of-‘Straight Outta Compton’-on-gangsta-rap knowledge. This is Rap’s genesis, this is where it all began; no more stories of meeting pals at the deli for a cold soda on a warm day, no more tales of buying plumed hats with your sweetheart; as Ice Cube concisely states, ‘do I look like a motherfuckin’ role model?’. NWA dragged America kicking and screaming into a new, perversely evil era of hip hop, one gesticulated by a siren-imbued, rampantly erratic beat and impertinent, filthy rhymes which still shock even in a world in which Tyler, The Creator operates.

SEE ALSO: ‘Fuck Tha’ Police’ – NWA, ‘Wicked’ – Ice Cube

34. Dancing On My Own – Robyn

I’m in love with Robyn because of her enigmatic, empowering arrogance, yet her best song sees her emphatically vulnerable, at her most insecure; standing alone in a club, gazing helplessly at the boy she can never have, ‘I’m right over here, why can’t you see me?’. The production is immaculate, the dense synth lines and thunderous kick-drums composing the chorus signal her mission of seduce and destroy. It’s vintage Robyn. The chorus strips this back to something unheard of: the drums subside: the synths loosen: her confidence dissipates in a foggy cloud of dry ice. The razor sharp ‘Stilettos and broken bottles’ line refer to the daggers entering her decadent heart, and so she has no other option than to dance.

SEE ALSO: ‘Be Mine!’ – Robyn, ‘I Belong In Your Arms’ – Chairlift

33. What’s Going On? – Marvin Gaye

In What’s Going On? Marvin Gaye translated his own internal crisis into a globalised plea for peace; he had lost his friend and duet partner Tammi Terrell to a brain tumour and was stuck in a vindictive marriage with Anna Gordy. Each respective comment on race, war and poverty is validated by Gaye’s private torment, providing an enduringly resonant song with an (importantly) intimate touch. The light jazzy-cum-Motown arrangement is nothing more than a soundtrack for Gaye’s compelling imploration. He commented after its release, ‘if I was arguing for peace, I knew I had to find peace in my heart’.

SEE ALSO: ‘I Heard It Through The Grapevine’ – Marvin Gaye, ‘Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology)’ – Marvin Gaye

32. Peach Plum Pear – Joanna Newsom

‘Peach Plum Pear’ is normally the first Joanna Newsom song you hear, and it’s not uncommon to hate it. But the song, just like Newsom’s voice, grows on you until you honestly can’t cope without it. The harpsichord remains consistent, but the way its melody twists, turns and reboots around her (for some, offputtingly) waifish vocals is incredible. The cute, childlike assonance of the opening lines, ‘we speak in the store/I’m a sensitive bore’, collapses rapidly and Newsom is left bare; a ghost of paranoia, fear and rejection. ‘Peach Plum Pear’ is a love song about the tragedy of missed opportunity, the heart-rending interruption in the final line testifies to that.

SEE ALSO: ‘Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie’ – Joanna Newsom, ‘Emily’ – Joanna Newsom

31. Kashmir – Led Zeppelin

‘Kashmir’ is the least melodramatic rock-opera of all time; it possesses all the grandeur and none of the camp. Led Zeppelin’s experiment in orchestral stadium rock was inspired by a seemingly endless road in the Sahara Desert, ‘oh let the sun beat down upon my face’. Plant described ‘Kashmir’ as ‘bigger than [him]… I was petrified. I was virtually in tears’, such is its apocalyptic scale and innately terrifying power. The now notorious chord progression generates a frenziedly sinister tension, hardly pacified by Plant’s towering falsetto and John Paul Jones’ exuberantly unnerving string arrangement.  And, oh God, that scream.

SEE ALSO: ‘When The Levee Breaks’ – Led Zeppelin, ‘Stairway To Heaven’ – Led Zeppelin