Naive Harmonies

Feel the Fine Tune Friday coming on

2010-03-12T10:25:00.001-05:00

Ted Leo & The Pharmacists, "Bartomolo and the Buzzing of Bees" (2010)
find it on The Brutalist Bricks

There's nothing complicated or groundbreaking about "Bartomelo and the Buzzing of Bees". It's a rock song with a great melody that repeats through the song and is complemented by a harmonizing bassline. It's immediately striking, but doesn't have a whole lot of layers. It mostly just rocks and catches.

But that simplicity gives it that wide open feel that makes great rock songs great. I hope Ted Leo is closing his shows with this song, because it's the kind of song that would send you out into the night with a head-to-toe feeling that life is great and fun and there's amazing music being made.

Fine Tune Friday will terrorize everyone together

2010-03-05T10:27:00.001-05:00

Field Music, "Share The Words" (2010)
find it on Field Music (Measure)

My mom makes the best meatloaf sandwiches. I used to try to copy her sandwiches, but inevitably, I got too greedy and put on too much of some ingredient or couldn't resist adding something extra that threw it all off. She got everything exactly right, though: never too many or too few ingredients and with the exact right amount of each.

Field Music is like my mom's meatloaf sandwiches. In concept, it's sloppy and indulgent, but with everything in perfect proportion, it tastes like fine dining. There's just enough rawk in the chorus of "Share The Words" to want to take the air guitar out of its case, but not enough to feel heavy or cheesy. The guitar in the verses has just enough of a funk hitch to keep it from sounding mechanical, but not enough to sound like it has anything to do with the genre. It's gritty, but feels real and never lo-fi. It's thoughtful but heartfelt.

It's really tasty.

Help us help you help us

2010-03-02T21:21:00.000-05:00

Little help? If you like a post of ours, share it Retweet the post from our Twitter account, click "Share" when it comes to your Google Reader, or click on the "Share It" at the bottom of each post to share with your friends on Facebook or Google Reader/Buzz. You can also click the More link on Share This for every single social media service ever invented since the beginning of time. So a click or two on one of them sharing buttons...well, we'd appreciate it.

Of course, we don't want you to be insincere. As the old saying goes: insincerity is the mother of screaming zombie hell babies that'll eat your face clean off. So don't ever share posts because you feel obligated; share it because you like it. See the connection there?

As always, thanks for reading. We got nothin' but love for you, baby, sharer or not.

The will to remain for Fine Tune Friday

2010-02-26T10:45:00.002-05:00

Joanna Newsom, "Good Intentions Paving Company" (2010)
find it on Have One On Me

Because my love for Joanna Newsom came from Naive Harmonies' own XtianDC convincing me to persevere and learn to love the songs, I always want to try and talk folks into loving it as well, while knowing that almost no one goes for it. There's always a complaint about the voice and no amount of pointing out parts or beauty seems to ever do the trick.

If there's any song in Joanna's canon that could persuade the doubters, this is it. The piano bounces along loosely with the drums, creating a casual vibe that still has the same beauty that so many of her gorgeous hooks do. The California 70's vibe gives it a warmth that usually frozen out by the brittle harp so that the catches sound much more poppy than they really are.

As different as this song's sound is from most of her others, though, it's stunning underline is still the same as all the others: that such catchy melodic moments can be part of such a complex yet seamless song arrangement. The gorgeous melody that begins at the 49 second mark is the kind of Newsom moment that backed with a harp would be devastating, but with this instrumentation, it sounds cozy and playful.

And...and...oh, I know. The voice.

STACKS: Glen Campbell, "Guess I'm Dumb"

2010-02-24T10:05:00.018-05:00

Before he was a Rhinestone Cowboy, and he before he teamed with Jimmy Webb to create a string of enduring, timeless international hits, each well deserving of their ubiquitous status, Glen Campbell was the recipient of a gift from another cherished songwriter and producer. That notable collaborator was none other than Beach Boy Brian Wilson.

In 1964, after suffering a nervous breakdown on a flight on the eve of a tour, Brian Wilson decided he could no longer participate in live performances with the Beach Boys. He would stay behind and concentrate on songwriting and production. Drafted temporarily in his place was a young LA session musician named Glen Campbell. (Bruce Johnston would ultimately serve as the long term replacement.)

The story goes that "Guess I'm Dumb" was Wilson's thank you gift to Campbell for his time of service. The song, co-written with Russ Titelman, was originally tracked and intended for the Beach Boy's 1965 album Today! but was ultimately discarded.

In Campbell's hands, while it may not have made a significant dent in the charts, "Guess I'm Dumb" is a long-lost classic. We can hear the early traces of Brian's immense talent for arrangement and production that would come into full bloom just a year later on Pet Sounds. And of course Glen's vocal performance is absolutely sublime.

Glen Campbell, "Guess I'm Dumb" (1965)

The background vocals on "Guess I'm Dumb" were provided by The Honeys, a girl group that Brian personally nurtured, featuring his wife Marilyn, her sister Diane Rovell and their cousin Ginger Blake. As a bonus track, take a listen to the Honeys "He's A Doll".

The Honeys, "He's A Doll" (1964)

Find both tracks on Pet Projects: The Brian Wilson Productions

Fine Tune Friday whips across my spine

2010-02-19T11:50:00.003-05:00

Rogue Wave, "Solitary Gun" (2010)
find it on Permalight

The Shins may have broken up (or something), but there's no shortage of the sound of The Shins. It may be a little more chattering (refer to: Local Natives) or it may be filtered through a little bit of chillwave (refer to: The Morning Benders), but there's plenty of music out there with bits of acoustic with just enough electric and a right balance of meandering arrangements with tight song structure to keep anyone happy.

Thing is, Rogue Wave have had been the leading Shins soundalikes since 2004. And since then, they've been a band that I've always enjoyed even while they've never raised up to a favorite.

Frankly, "Solitary Gun"—off of their new album Permalight, out March 2—isn't a song that will raise them from "enjoy it while it's on" status with me, but man, do I ever enjoy it while it's on. It has all the right elements: acoustic guitars, smooth harmonizing backing vocals and a cracking snare. The song comes down to the chorus: something that you'd never necessarily seek out or find yourself thinking about with no clear reminder, but when it comes around, you're thrilled to have it there.

STACKS: Emitt Rhodes

2010-02-17T15:46:00.030-05:00

Obvious statement alert: the music industry at times has a taste for its own young. History is littered with examples, and perhaps few are as tragically poignant as that of the man once referred to as "the one man Beatles", Emitt Rhodes.

Rhodes released a string of fantastic, self/home made records in the late 60's and early 70's whose highlights equal, and at times even surpass, any of those found on the post Fabs output of Messrs. McCartney, Lennon, Harrison and Starr.

Over this past weekend, Rhodes granted a rare interview to New Jersey radio station WFMU. That interview has been archived and can be heard here. The interview makes for some pretty uncomfortable listening. I'm quite frankly torn between recommending this to all ER fans or just simply wishing it out of existence. Rhodes unveils some rather disturbing confessions surrounding the career of his first teenage band The Palace Guard, espouses a particularly dark view of humanity and life in general and continually peppers his remarks with some rather left-field fixations that verge on homophobia. Interviewer Michael Shelley does an admirable job here of maintaining some semblance of composure and narrative. The end result is equal parts fascinating and disturbing. At the very least, Shelley bookends his conversation with a nice sampling of Rhodes' music.

Delving into Rhodes' back story certainly sheds light on why the man seems so haunted today. Rhodes was raised in the very same Hawthorne, California neighborhood that birthed Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys. At the tender age of 14, Rhodes played drums for a local favorite combo called The Palace Guard. By age 16, he was writing songs and fronting the Merry-Go-Round. The Merry-Go-Round signed to A&M Records and achieved a modest level of regional success.

Watch The Merry-Go-Round perform a medley of their hits at the Hollywood Palace. (Don Knotts appearance bonus alert.)

The M-G-R disbanded in early 1969, but still owed A&M one record. Rhodes turned in The American Dream album, a mixture of M-G-R leftovers and new solo recordings made in A&M's Hollywood studios featuring members of the Wrecking Crew.

Listen to a young Emitt Rhodes, brimming with confidence and optimism here on a track from The American Dream.

Emitt Rhodes, "Let's All Sing" (1969)
find it on The Emitt Rhodes Recordings [1969-1973]

A&M passed on The American Dream, but Rhodes spent his savings on an Ampex four-track recording console and set up shop in his parent's garage. He created demos that earned him a solo deal from ABC-Dunhill. In 1970, the first fruits of these labors was born. Critics and radio responded favorably to the self-titled debut; sensing an opportunity, A&M released the previously shelved The American Dream. The young artist suddenly had two competing albums in the market place! While this first snafu certainly lowered the ceiling on the sales of Emitt Rhodes, the album has since grown in stature and has become a long-lost classic.

From there, things would only get more troubling and vexing for the young songwriter and performer. His recording contract stipulated that he was to somehow provide a new release every six months. Preferring to write, produce and perform everything on his own at home, Rhodes fell further and further behind schedule and was eventually taken to court by his own recording company to the tune of $250,000, an amount that dwarfed anything he initially earned from his signing.

Despite the impossible circumstances, Rhodes still managed to produce two further albums, 1971's Mirror and 1973's aptly titled Farewell To Paradise. Neither album match the high-water mark of the self-titled debut, but are not without their own charms. Rhodes maintained his "made at home" ethos, but greatly expanded his sonic and instrumental palette in the process.

Watch the promotional video for "Birthday Lady", a track from 1971's Mirror.

Listen to the heartbreaking "Blue Horizon" from 1973's Farewell To Paradise. It's a long fall from the sunny heights of "Let's All Sing".

Emitt Rhodes, "Blue Horizon" (1973)
find it on The Emitt Rhodes Recordings [1969-1973]

Still if anything hopeful can be gleaned from the WFMU interview its the exciting news that Emitt Rhodes is finally hard at work again on new material. Richard Thompson even is scheduled to visit and provide contributions (Fairport Convention covered The Merry-Go-Rounds' "Time Will Show The Wiser" on their first album, in fact). Can't wait to hear it.

To learn more about Emitt Rhodes and his music, please visit EmittRhodesMusic.net and the Emitt Rhodes Band Myspace page.

Misadventures In Record Collection Anecdote: Some time in the last couple of years, I stumbled into a moderately priced, excellently preserved vinyl copy of "Farewell To Paradise". While the first two Emitt Rhodes records are somewhat easy to come by in the used bins, this one is something of a white whale. When I brought it home, I realized I actually had something even rarer than an actual copy of this record; my copy is a mispressing that is correctly labelled, but somehow features music by someone who is most definitely *not* Emitt Rhodes.

Thankfully, just last year Hip-O-Select released this excellent collection that over two discs features all four Emitt Rhodes records.

RUN DMT

2010-02-14T14:50:00.006-05:00

Baltimore noise machine, RUN DMT, is a mystery to me...if anyone knows anything about him let me know.

Here is his Mux Tape: http://rundmt.muxtape.com/

The track Feel Flows is what got me curious. Enjoy.

RUN DMT, 'Feel Flows' (2010)

STACKS: Donovan "Colours"

2010-02-11T15:35:00.016-05:00

Stacks apologizes for not keeping to its regular every-Wednesday schedule. We'd use yesterday's blizzard as an excuse, except we were actually among the lucky one's who never lost power during either of these immense storms. Anyways, a day late, but hopefully not a dollar short.

This week's edition is a bit of audible. I had another, perhaps more prescient, post ready to go in which I was to begin my crusade to get the Electric Light Orchestra to play next year's Super Bowl halftime show. We'll definitely get to ELO down the line, but I think it might make for better first days of Spring reading.

If anything, Stacks aims to maintain a level of transparency; I want this column to accurately reflect and capture as best as I can my current and ongoing musical fascinations. I spend an awful lot of time consuming and seeking out new music...but truth be told, it's the old stuff that really sets my tail a-wagging. Case in point: as eager as I have been to get my hands on that new Midlake album (which is every bit as excellent as I hoped, by the way), I've continued to spend more time with the older records that likely influenced its creation than I have that actual record itself. Still immersed in Fairport Convention, Sandy Denny, the Pentangle and the like.

Which leads us down a slight detour to today's selections courtesy of Donovan. More than just a poor man's Bob Dylan, Scotland's Donovan Leitch released his fair share of folk and psych rock gems in the 60's and beyond. His justifiably ubiquitous Greatest Hits album, originally released in 1968, is wall to wall fantastic. But it doesn't just end there; you won't find many three album stretch runs better than 1966's Sunshine Superman, 1967's Mellow Yellow and 1968's The Hurdy Gurdy Man. I'm still discovering and delighting in the man's copious output.

The first time I heard "Colours" was via the aforementioned Greatest Hits album. It was an immediate favorite, but several years later, I was introduced to an alternate version via the film depiction of Brett Easton Ellis' The Rules of Attraction of all things. The film itself is a sort of trashy guilty pleasure, but the scene in which this was featured is a brilliant little piece of film making (and one that I imagine had a bit of influence on last year's big hit 500 Days of Summer; watch that scene here).

Anyways...back to "Colours". I become obsessed with this particular full-band reworking of the track. I love its lysergic pace and the melody-borrowing organ solo, played by Led Zeppelin's John Paul Jones. But from where did this version come?

It turns out that when the record label went to compile the Greatest Hits record, they were not granted the rights to "Colours" or "Catch the Wind"! Subsequently, Donovan was forced to re-cut new versions of these songs. The original acoustic versions of these songs have since been restored to Greatest Hits. The re-workings can now be found on the 2005 reissue of The Hurdy Gurdy Man.

I have to admit to preferring the full band version. Give a listen to both. Which do you prefer?

Colours - Donovan

As a bonus, here is the original b-side to "Colours", entitled "To Sing For You". This is the song that Donovan chooses to perform for Dylan in that classic scene from Don't Look Back.

To Sing For You - Donovan

Beach Comber

2010-02-08T15:19:00.003-05:00

For all my snowed in DC people: some psychedelic surf rock.

Real Estate, "Beach Comber" (2009)

Fine Tune Friday blooms

2010-02-05T13:34:00.000-05:00

Hot Chip, "Alley Cats" (2010)
find it on One Life Stand

This song doesn't take a grand, breathtaking path to gorgeousness. It's a quiet beauty, comfortable with itself, there for anyone who can slow down enough to listen closely and hear how the meandering melody calmly lets out new bits of beauty. It's stunning in a way that's really hard to appreciate passively; unusual in that I love it, but I always feel like I've missed something when it's done. A stunner.

STACKS: The Influences Behind Midlake's "The Courage of Others"

2010-02-03T10:31:00.026-05:00

"We got into British folk. We started listening to Fairport Convention, Steeleye Span, and Pentangle; those are the three biggies. Strawbs, Amazing Blondel, a lot of more obscure bands: Yellow Autumn, Windy Corner. A lot of Pentangle. I had never listened to that stuff before. Just like before the previous album, I had never checked out Neil Young or Joni Mitchell or anything. So the same thing sort of happened, but with British folk." Tim Smith, Midlake

A few weeks back, STACKS' debut column inspired a mini-debate amongst our readers (all two of 'em!) regarding musical trends and the power current artists wield to revive interest in music of the past. It's a bit of a chicken/egg argument...do contemporary artists inspire us to delve back into the rich archives of music or are they merely drawing blood from a vein that was there all along? Column A, Column B and all that.

Denton, Texas' Midlake released it's third full length album yesterday, The Courage of Others, an album that is certainly on my short list of most anticipated releases this year. I haven't actually had the opportunity to hear the album yet, as I'm stubbornly holding out for the delayed vinyl pressing. But I've read plenty of the pre-release press that's been floating out there. Main songwriter and vocalist Tim Smith has been quite revealing regarding the main influences of this latest effort, which has been nearly four arduous years in the making: British folk of the late 60's and 70's.

Midlake is certainly not the first band in recent memory to mine these sources for inspiration (albums from Trembling Bells and Espers, perhaps most prominently, come to mind), but this does mark a bit of a left turn from the Laurel Canyon territory of the band's breakthrough second effort, The Trials of Van Occupanther.

Let's take a quick look at Tim Smith's road map and sample the "three biggies", Fairport Convention, Steeleye Span and Pentangle. (If any readers out there are familiar with more obscure names such as Amazing Blondel, Yellow Autumn, Windy Corners, Mellow Candle, the Trees, please drop a line in the comments. I'd love to hear more of this stuff.)

Travelling Song - Pentangle

Pentangle formed in 1967 and was considered something of a super group, merging the talents of two of the budding British folk scene's most well-loved guitarists, Bert Jansch and John Renbourn, with two of the jazz world's most talented rhythm section players, bassist Danny Thompson and drummer Terry Cox. Add in the unique stylings of vocalist Jacqui McShee and what resulted was a revelatory mix of folk, jazz and blues that pushed boundaries in ways that had many musical purists' crying foul. I've always had a bit of a hard time getting my head wrapped fully around the Pentangle's sound, but the first time I heard "Travellin' Song", the band's first single, my mind was blown. It may be the band's most straightforward moment and I love the way it builds layer upon layer over its repetitious core. Lead vocals from Bert Jansch on this one.

Who Knows Where The Time Goes?...

While immersing myself into the world of Pentangle has sometimes been a bit of an effort, not so with Fairport Convention. The music they created in the bands first three years, five albums worth from 1968 to 1970, has become some of my most cherished. The subsequent solo work of Sandy Denny and Richard Thompson (along with his then wife Linda Thompson) ranks right there as well. We'll certainly come back to this deep well for a deserving, more in-depth treatment down the line at STACKS. For now though, let me share with you the one song I would pick to introduce Fairport Convention to any newcomer, "Who Knows Where The Time Goes?", from the band's third album Unhalfbricking. Undisputed enduring classic, I envy anyone hearing it for the first time.

The Dark-Eyed Sailor - Steeley...

I've always been a bit daunted by Steeleye Span, as it was my impression that they traded in the less appealing merry minstrel/ren-faire aspect of the Brit folk era. These fears are probably well-grounded, as they were co-founded by former Fairport Convention bassist Ashley Hutchings, who defected in order to return to playing music with more traditional roots. The band's first album Hark! The Village Wait shares more in common with early Fairports than I expected though. Plenty to like here as it turns out, as the muscular, rolling "The Dark-Eyed Sailor" shows.

One from the cerebral vault

2010-02-02T11:01:00.011-05:00

A little nostalgia. Used to listen to this when I was a little one. If anyone can recommend a good box set of 1950s rock classics...please let me know.

Buddy Holly, 'Oh! Boy!' (1957)

Fine Tune Friday (instrumental)

2010-01-29T10:59:00.002-05:00

Four Tet, "She Just Likes to Fight" (2010)
find it on There Is Love In You

I was all set to post Lykke Li's contribution to the New Moon soundtrack and use it as an opportunity to get pissy about the repressed sexuality and "I love him for his mind" pretense of the books, but it just didn't feel right. Not the ripping on Twilight part. I wouldn't mind that. But the cold, defeated sound of "Possibility"--beautiful though it may be--just didn't feel like this week's winner.

"She Just Likes To Fight" felt completely right. It's warm and comfortable; quiet layers of beauty calmly stirred in with none of the drama that the title suggests. It's a sound that's insularly optimistic; satisfaction in the face of suggestions that it shouldn't be. It's a beaut, alright, and not a little reminiscent of Yo La Tengo's "Danelectro".

As a side note: my title reminds me of how much I hate it when track listings have that "(instrumental)" by the title, as though songs without vocals need some sort of up-front disclaimer that it isn't a real song.

STACKS: Bobby Charles

2010-01-27T12:00:00.001-05:00

It is with some level of embarrassment that I admit that it took Bobby Charles' passing earlier this month to spur me to investigate his 1972 self-titled debut album. Sad circumstances aside, boy am I glad I did.

I'll leave it to those better qualified than this johnny-come-lately to offer anything resembling a eulogy. But here's the bare essentials: Louisiana teenager pens hits for such notables as Bill Haley & The Comets & Fats Domino, eventually finds his way to Woodstock, New York and records his first full-length album for Dylan impresario Albert Grossman's Bearsville label with none other than Rick Danko at the control knobs and featuring performances throughout from the rest of The Band, as well as fellow Louisianan legend Dr. John. Charles connection to the The Band ran deep and he even performed at their finale, The Last Waltz, though that footage failed to make Martin Scorsese's final cut.

Suffice to say the 1972 album is highly recommended to anyone who has even a few Band records on the shelf. It's practically a lost Band record, in fact. It also brings to mind Sail Away/Good Old Boys-era Randy Newman.

Of course, none of this is meant to undermine Bobby Charles unique and singular talent. This stuff stands on its own no matter what names appear on the cover. Another fun fact: Charles did not play any musical instrument, and composed his songs solely in his head!

Take a listen to the laid back swamp shuffle of "Small Town Talk" and the beautiful, now appropriately sanguine "I Must Be In A Good Place Now". (You may be familiar with "Good Place", as it featured recently on Vetiver's recent cover album Thing Of The Past.)

Small Town Talk - Bobby Charle...

I Must Be In A Good Place Now ...

Blakroc

2010-01-25T15:00:00.002-05:00

Ohio-based blues/rock band The Black Keys teams up with a slew of hiphop artists to bring us Blakroc. Bit late to the game on this one, but I love the sound. Something in the realm of the Gorillaz. Enjoy.

Blakroc, 'What You Do To Me (feat. Billy Danze, Jim Jones & Nicole Wray)', (2009)

Fine Tune Friday getting better

2010-01-22T10:20:00.001-05:00

Toro Y Moi, "Low Shoulder" (2010)
find it on Causers Of This

We're off to a sleepy start to 2010, with a couple of good-but-not-AS-good albums from Vampire Weekend and Spoon, but the one set of songs in my shuffle pack that has consistently perked up my ears is the debut from Toro Y Moi. It's tempting to lump it in with the chillwave scene, but the RIYL on this is more along the lines of J Dilla crossed with Passion Pit. This song has more of the pop touches of the latter, but still with the woozy feel that's become so satisfyingly common in the last year. In fact, I'm already looking forward to rediscovering this sound in a decade or so.

STACKS: Deeper Into Nigeria

2010-01-20T20:46:00.026-05:00

Seconds anyone? Last week we featured some 1970's West African jams courtesy of two of Nigeria's most well-loved Afro-rock bands, BLO and Ofege. Both selections certainly emphasized the Western influence and the "rock" side of the Afro-rock equation. This week let's venture into a bit more adventurous territory, with a couple of tracks that display a more pronounced African influence. It should go without saying that we're obviously just scratching the surface here, but next week Stacks promises to move on to different territory (even if its author doesn't).

Koma Mosi - The Harbours Band

Sung in Yoruba, here we have a lovely example rooted in the classic highlife. An up-tempo, horn driven song that swings and seems capable of kick-starting just about any party.

Osalobua Rekpama - Sir Victor ...

Nicknamed "Guitar Boy", Victor Uwaifo built his own guitar at aged 12, went on to receive Africa's first gold record in 1969, and has become one of Nigeria's most famous musicians. This is a sampling from his self-styled/christened "Ekassa" period and is a true fusion of new meets old.

"Aiye Le" translates as "The World Is Hard", a sentiment expressed plainly in this song's call and response vocals. Olufemi Ajasa pushed traditional juju music to new directions with his integration of rock and roll inspired guitar, bass and drums.

Better Change Your Mind - Will...

(also found on Strut Records recent reissue of Nigeria 70: The Definitive Story of 1970's Funky Lagos)

Give this song a listen and it's guaranteed to be among the strangest, funkiest 8 minutes of your life. Musically speaking, "Better Change Your Mind" sounds like it could have been beamed down from outer space; but it's lyrical message is rooted deeply in the world in which we all live.

Some girls want a handsome Fine Tune Friday

2010-01-15T09:44:00.005-05:00

Camera Obscura, "Tougher Than The Rest" (2009)
find it on The Sweetest Thing single

On first listen, this is a pretty straightforward cover of a beautiful song. Tracyanne Campbell's lilting Scottish accent replaces Bruce Springsteen's gruff twang, turning his gruff "don't know" into a sweet "doon't knoo", and the breathy reverb and brushed snare take the place of stiff 80's production, but otherwise, it seems to walk the line as a nice b-side.

There are two melodic choices that turn this into a song that demands repeats: at 1:08, the lift in the melody at "Romeo" (or in Campbell's case, 'Roomeoo'), and as the music cuts out to just bass, drums and vocals and at 2:51 when she pulls up the melody again for "well, I don't know, baby, maybe you've been around too". It's devastating, and it makes this a quick new addition to my favorite covers.

STACKS: BLO and Ofege

2010-01-13T16:36:00.063-05:00

New year, new weekly feature here at Naive Harmonies. Every Wednesday STACKS shall endeavor to shed light on at least one golden nugget from yester-year. Whether it's a new reissue unearthing some unjustly overlooked should-be classic, or a nostalgic glance towards a more well-worn oldie but goodie, if the copyright predates NH, it's fair game here at STACKS. Shall we begin?

For the past year or so, I've become increasingly enthralled with the glut of West African music from the 1970's that seems to have experienced a recent renaissance and re-examination. For the past several years, labels such as Soundways, Analog Africa and Strut have been doing the yeoman's work of reissuing an incredible assortment of music from this amazingly fertile and vibrant period. These records offer a snapshot of time where, musically and culturally speaking, East met West, as traditional African song forms and rhythms collided and exploded with influences from jazz, rock, and funk. What resulted was often a heady, fuzzy, psychedelic stew; equally booty shaking and mind expanding!

Lagos-based trio Blo made their debut in December of 1972, playing to a crowd of over 10,000 - the largest audience in the history of Nigerian music. Some entrance! Six months later, their debut album Chapter One became a huge sensation, introducing the country to the concept of the rock trio. Christened after the band member's names, guitarist Berkley Jones, drummer Laolu Atkins and bassist Mike Odumosu, Blo went on to record five additional albums. But it's their first two, Chapter One and Phase II, that are their most sought after and it is these that have been collected on a recent reissue from RPM. Check out the mind-melting "Time To Face The Sun".

Blo Chapters and Phases: The Complete Albums 1973 - 1975 (RPM Records) [buy it]
Listen To "Time To Face The Sun"

(An aside: the first time I heard this track, it was instantly, yet puzzlingly, familiar. Then it hit me: Madlib! Give a listen to the way Madlib flipped this one on the first volume of his Beat Konducta series:

Face The Sun (Africa) - Madlib

Teacher meet pupil. Among those influenced by Blo's meteoric rise to national fame were Ofege, five high school students also from the capital city. Ofege were discovered at a school competition by producer Odion Iruje. Iruje shepherded the young band and the first fruit of this labor is their cherished debut album Try and Love, released also in 1973, and recently reissued by NYC's Academy LP's. "It's Not Easy" is the most straightforward, Western-influenced track on the album and calls to mind the Velvet Underground's "Oh! Sweet Nuthin'". (Ok, it sounds *a lot* like "Oh! Sweet Nuthin'".) But keep in mind these kids were only 17 years old! There's a sweet innocence at work here that is just impossibly irresistible...naive harmonies indeed! By the way, if the guitar work sounds suspiciously accomplished, there's good reason: it was overdubbed by none other than Blo's Berkley Jones.

It's Not Easy - Ofege

Oh! Sweet Nuthin' - The Velvet...

Fine Tune Friday did not want to let you go

2010-01-08T07:49:00.008-05:00

The Drums, "Submarine" (2009)
find it on Summertime!

Here we are in the weeks when we all try to frantically listen to the music from last year to find what we missed before the new year starts distracting us. And this new year should be a banger right off the bat. The new Beach House record in particular is fantastic. See? Distracted already.

This song popped out of my collection and off of this album. It reminds me of the early 00s when everything reminded me of the early 80s. It has more than a pinch of B-52s in it, plenty of bedroom pop, and a bit of beginner guitar that hits those three notes that spell out C-A-T-C-H-Y. Which this song so insanely is. Stick around until 2:09 for the perfect guitar middle.

And it's fun to share a song off an album called Summertime! when it's the middle of January and there's an inch of new snow the ground.

The last time I'll bug you about this TOTAL HOTNESS

2009-12-28T12:41:00.003-05:00

I need to put a period on my total obsession of the last couple weeks. I've shared it on Twitter and such and maybe you watched it/heard it, but if you didn't, you must. I need to put it to bed, but not without you crawling in with it.

This video is from an Italian variety show from the early 70's, made by an actor/singer/comedian named Adriano Celentano. The lyrics are gibberish, supposedly as "what English sounds like to people who don't speak it", but also apparently as a statement by Celentano about the inability for people to truly communicate.

But to hell with concepts. Listen:

People, this is the early 70's. The beat, the one-chord organ, the push and drone of the bass and guitar, the proto-rap vocals...it's totally modern. Paired with one of the hottest dance routines I've ever seen, it's incredible enough in 2009. I can't imagine how much it must have blown minds in 1974.

Also? All of those hot and fit dancers are now OLD. Makes you want to go out dancing while you can, doesn't it?

Sleeper Albums of 2009

2009-12-21T11:14:00.041-05:00

If you're anything like me, as the calendar comes to its yearly close, productivity has a way of screeching to a grinding halt. Sure, the holiday season can have that kind of effect on us all. But I have to admit to another culprit: the year-end list craze. I may not be the most committed list compiler, but I certainly am an avid year-end list follower.

It's kind of amazing how in tune a lot of these lists seem to be, isn't it? You'll find no argument at Naive Harmonies that the likes of Animal Collective, Grizzly Bear, Phoenix et al put out stellar releases in 2009... but how about some love for some of the more unheralded albums released in the past twelve months? Listed below are five albums that this author has yet to find on the majority of year-end lists out there. Dig in, discover and enjoy.

Doug Paisley self-titled (No Quarter) [buy it]
Listen To "Broken In Two"

In the grand tradition of Canadian troubadours exploring Americana (Neil Young, The Band), Doug Paisley is a Toronto born/London based singer-songwriter whose songs evoke a kind of dusty country-tinged folk. His self-titled debut album is an intimate charmer that sounds equally great sound tracking a spring afternoon spent idly on a sun-lit porch swing as it does on a winter's evening sipping warm cider by a fire. Bonnie Prince Billy fans would be wise to investigate this album for all seasons. (Truth be told, this record flew so far under the radar, it actually was released in vinyl-only in late 2008; it's digital/cd release in early '09 qualifies it here.)

Lee Fields My World (Truth & Soul) [buy it]
Listen To "Honey Dove"

Forget the soul-revival. And please don't call it a comeback; Lee Fields has actually been here for years. Fields has been a mainstay on the soul & funk scene since the 70's, drawing unavoidable vocal comparisons along the way to James Brown. My own limited exposure to but a fraction of his deep back catalog suggested a leaning towards the so-called deep-funk movement. My World, an album whose gestation reportedly lasted over 4 years, flips the script considerably and shifts focus towards classic 60's and 70's inspired soul. This is timeless stuff, with impeccable production and wonderful arrangements. Fields even cedes the spotlight to his band The Expressions for a couple of bang-on instrumentals. This album lived in the better half's car cd player for months and made her arguments for driving a lot more compelling.

Trembling Bells Carbeth (Honest Jons) [buy it]
Listen To "Willows Of Carbeth"

Damon Albarn's Honest Jons label has been offering discriminating crate-diggers rare world, funk and soul releases for years. What a surprise then to find this offering: the debut from a Glasgow based band who draws a compelling line right back to the late 60's output of British folk rock pioneers such as Fairport Convention, Pentangle and the Incredible String Band. Trembling Bells' co-vocalist Lavina Blackwall darn nearly channels the incomparable late Sandy Denny. Yet somehow, against all odds, this all comes off as something more than an exercise in genre-plundering mimicry. Carbeth is the most sincerely and enjoyably out of time record of 2009.

Idlewild Post Electric Blues (Cooking Vinyl) [buy it]
Listen To "Readers & Writers"

Staying in Scotland, we have the seventh album from Edinburgh's Idlewild. Call this one the surprise of the year. Three years removed from the disappointing Make Another World, Idlewild seemed to be spinning its collective wheels and in danger of slipping into irrelevancy. Label-less, the band turned to its audience for the funding of this new album, a creative rebirth of sorts. What a shock to find the band sounding revitalized and re energized on Post Electric Blues, an album of grand, sweeping, stadium-sized rock gestures and hooks. They may never return to the thrilling visceral intensity of 100 Broken Windows or The Remote Part, albums upon which their hard-earned critical reputation was forged; but here there is a confidence, maturity and comfort in one's own skin. Few moments in 2009 had me reaching for the volume knob more than the one-two punch of "Readers & Writers" and "City Hall".

The Leisure Society The Sleeper (Full Time Hobby) [buy it]
Listen To "A Matter Of Time"

Sure, The BQE project was an impressive undertaking. But those finding themselves wishing and hoping for something more along the lines of the next installment of Sufjan Steven's mythic (and recently debunked) 50 states project might be wise to divert their attention instead to this London band's debut effort. The Sleeper is a swoon-worthy wide screen chamber-pop affair that is not afraid to tug hard at the heartstrings. Unlikely Ivor Novello nominees, recent recipients of a year's best tag from Rough Trade, and the object of unabashed affection from one Brian Eno? The Leisure Society is somehow all of these things and yet, a band that managed to escape 2009 with a puzzling lack of stateside attention. There are moments when one may wish that The Sleeper bore the mark of a band with a bit more dirt underneath its nails, but it's still a winsome and lovely way to spend 40 minutes. An impressive starting point, by any measure.

So how about you? Feel free to share with us your favorite unheralded gems from the musical year 2009 in the comments.

Top 100 Songs of The 00s: 20-1

2009-12-18T08:00:00.009-05:00

The audio's been removed, but there's plenty more where that came from coming up. Subscribe to our RSS feed, follow us on Hype Machine, or follow us on Twitter.

100-81 | 80-61 | 60-41 | 40-21 | 20-1

20. Sufjan Stevens, "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing" (2002)

As much as we all want to think that our favorite music is selected by refined tastes and considered selection, there's no getting around the obvious: it's our life events and situations that define what we love.

That this simple hymn hit me harder than anything else in Sufjan's catalog says much more about my childhood than anything else. I loved church hymns, and I loved Kermit the Frog's "The Rainbow Connection" the first time I heard it when I was eight. I love people singing together and I love it when moments of quiet restraint unhinge in subtle ways that betray (but don't spell out) a fiery passion. I love sad songs.

I can point out the beauty in the slightly raised attack of the piano or the introduction of new voices by verse, or how the wobbly delivery gives it a heartbreaking sincerity, but it comes down to this: I'm an Episcopalian raised in the suburbs and churches of the South by a mother who loved to sing and sang us "Show Me The Way To Go Home" and "You Are My Sunshine" when we were little. And that's why I love this song.
find it on Songs For Christmas

19. Hot Chip, "Over And Over" (2006)

I got to know this song through a few dance nights at the Black Cat, and it's a perfect dance track for Mousetrap. Strange lyrics, great dance beat that's heavy on the snare, but the jewel of the song is the middle part, with the incredible rhythm of "tell you, tell you, tell you, tell you." A classic example of a great song made amazing by one bit.
find it on The Warning

18. The Pains of Being Pure At Heart, "Young Adult Friction" (2009)

In my days on indiepop-centered mailing lists in the late 90's and early 00's, I noticed that there were two popular ways to romantically describe a song that you loved so much that it pushed you into some involuntary, strange act. These being sensitive music geeks, they were both in the context of listening to music by yourself in your bedroom. The first was "this song makes me want to lay down on the floor with my arms outstretched", which means that it was beautiful. The other was "this song makes me want to spin around the room", which meant it was energetic.

"Young Adult Friction" is so much the latter that I think we can go ahead and retire the phrase entirely (if we haven't already). The ridiculous twee of the band name and the fact that the song begins with a nod to the "stacks of the library" (I mean, come ON) are completely forgiven with the overwhelming energy of this track. When the guitars come back to their intro phrase after the chorus at 2:04, there's a little extra push of energy that sends the song soaring.

So yeah, this song makes me want to spin around the room, possibly with my arms outstretched, which seems pretty dangerous, but music gets what music wants.
find it on The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart

17. Mogwai, "2 Rights Make One Wrong (edit)" (2001)

If you haven't noticed by this point in the countdown, I love songs that build to a climax, and that's pretty much all this song is. Horns and organs swell around it and there's a effected gauze of lyrics, but mostly it's just the rounds of guitar and the pounding drums, leading to an overwhelming peak.

It's an incredible song, but it has as much of a place in this list because it's the last song that I was ever blown away by instore play in a record store. That will almost certainly never happen again.
find the long version on Rock Action

16. Of Montreal, "So Begins Our Alabee" (2005)

I was lucky enough to see Of Montreal in 2008 in their full, insane glory, and it was a sight I'll never forget. But what was even more memorable was that they played this song second in the night and I had no idea what it was. When I figured it out, I went into my music collection and found that I already had it. Which says a whole lot about this decade's music gluttony. Or mine, anyway.

That wasn't the first time I'd dismissed Of Montreal. In the 90's, I'd been totally turned off by their unbearably twee old sound, and had ignored all the hype surrounding them until 2007. Shame, because I would have heard this perfect slice of art pop (name another non-OM song that has lines anything like "you're my mousy aesthete"), a simple song whose only real character is its glorious chorus, with it's simple, clear hinge: "it's true".
find it on The Sunlandic Twins

15. Fiona Apple, "Extraordinary Machine (Jon Brion Version)" (2005)

Confidence in music often comes with swagger, but this song is confident in a more simple way of knowing what the problems are and what to do about it. Yes, it's far from sexy to call a song "efficient", but there you have it. There's not a single wasted moment here: every line is packed tight with astounding wit and brilliant rhymes and the melody swoops around with absolute purpose. One of the most intelligent (and fun) songs you could ever hope to hear.
find the final version on Extraordinary Machine

14. Fleet Foxes, "He Doesn't Know Why" (2008)

There's no shortage of beautiful, swooping melodies in the world, but there are times when a melody climbs and dips in all the right ways that there are no better words than "perfect", no matter how I overuse it. This song is a perfect melody, delivered by Robin Pecknold, easily one of the greatest voices of the decade, and one of the few people that sang from the soul, though the moment when he belts out "There's nothing I can say" is something far beyond the soul.
find it on Fleet Foxes

13. Stars, "Heart" (2003)

As my friend Peter put it, the Backstreet Boys' "I Want It That Way" was "a moment" in 1999 when a lot of us who had spent a decade or more trying to distance ourselves from the top 40 learned to love pop again. It was around/exactly that moment when it felt okay to love any music no matter how many other people loved it.

But still, there was something that we'd loved about the indie approach as well: that sound that it's made by people we could know in our daily lives, like people who had lived the same lives we'd lived rather than untouchable pop stars.

"Heart" is the song where those two loves come together perfectly. It's a slow jam, but with expressing love and longing as a genuine, deep feeling rather than a generic song subject. It's a duet whose chorus and climax we wish had scaled the pop charts, but we're fine keeping it to ourselves as well.
find it on Heart

12. Arcade Fire, "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)" (2004)

This was a first-timer, a song that I was totally in love with even before it was even halfway over. Christian had pointed me to the Merge site when Funeral was still a month away from release, telling me to listen to this song because it sounded like "Pulp recorded like The Walkmen". Which is about as enticing a description for me as they come.

You can hear everything that we love about Arcade Fire in this song. It's a powerful build with a beautiful ambient-meets-crunch intro, an unhinged vocal moment ("then we think of our parents, whatever happened to them?") and even a disco beat there at the end. There's still a lot of time, but I hear this song and I can't imagine Arcade Fire not being one of the enduring bands twenty or thirty years from now.
find it on Funeral

11. Johnny Boy, "You Are The Generation That Bought More Shoes And You Get What You Deserve" (2004)

This is as hot as indiepop gets. The hard push overwhelms any timid indie twee, creating something that embodies the pure sound of indiepop in a grabbing, wrestling, propulsive thrust of sound that seems as natural as it does surprising. I don't really know what the words are about, but with the "YEAH YEAH!" yells, the constant push forward of the backing, and the vocals dropping into a sensual whisper before exploding again into screams, it's all about the sexual liberation of "Be My Baby."
find it on Johnny Boy

10. Billy Bragg & Wilco, "Remember The Mountain Bed" (2000)

The duo of albums put out by Billy Bragg & Wilco are studies in how to marry lyrics and music. The incredible words of Woodie Gutherie are matched more often that not with music that they seemed destined for.

There's nothing in the collection more gorgeous than this one, though. It's an absolutely perfect melody with varied instruments that come in and bow out, keeping it constantly fresh and create a stunning backdrop for words that ponder procreation and existence with such truth that these six minutes and twenty-seven seconds have everything you need to know about the meaning of life. And sex.
find it on Mermaid Avenue Vol. II

9. Animal Collective, "Fireworks" (2007)

As I got more into Animal Collective, "Fireworks" slowly became the ultimate example of their genius. It was a display of what people raised on rock music could create beyond the limitations of rock culture. It has a beautiful, complex melody with a chattering rhythm that suggests samba, jazz, and funk without being any of those exactly, or even remotely. It's one of those extremely rare songs that has the comforts of the past while also showing the exciting places that music can go from here.

I'll admit that this song is an intellectual love. It still gives me chills and begs to be repeated, but not in the same heart-melting way that a lot of the songs on this list do. But I love it for being a towering example of the incredible art that can be created when smarts meet heart.

Aside: the wordless, manic melody that opens and punctuates the song became my favorite whistling tune. FYI.
find it on Strawberry Jam

8. Belle & Sebastian, "Your Cover's Blown" (2004)

In the days of imports my college friends and I used to joke about scoring the rarest song find, getting it to as absurd levels as possible: "Their best song is on a Dutch limited-edition colored-vinyl fan club 7-inch b-side." We laughed about the snobbery, but it was a half joke, because we all knew the excitement of finding that a rare song actually was one of the band's best.

Finding rarities is rarer now (and why remixes and mashups have found a new resurgence), but there are still those times when a band has an off-album song that is one of their best.

Even if it had been on a proper album instead of a single/EP, "Your Cover's Blown" would easily be Belle & Sebastian's best song of the decade, and one of the best of their career. A indie-disco epic, it's also a story of the shy indie boy growing up. It's the successor of The Smiths' "How Soon Is Now": a night out where the conflict is not self-pitying certainty that he'll go home alone, but in serious relationships and/or the fun-but-unfulfilling life of making "a rough plan to sleep around."

And as the song goes on, the music brings out more of the hook in the chorus, so that you wonder how a good song became perfect without being able to find any one exact moment where that happened.
find it on limited-edition Japanese import multicolored see-thru flexi-mp3s

7. Dizzee Rascal, "Hype Talk" (2004)

An unfair high bar for verbal fireworks. The speed of Dizzee's vocals is only matched for thrills by his travels around the beat, transforming the grime rhythm with almost every line into something new. It's as exciting as a song can get, and I didn't listen to this song once and not feel that jumping-out-of-my-skin thrill at the impossible pace of the vocals, but the lightning-fast moments were only heightened by Dizzee taking his foot off the accelerator just to floor it again. A stunner.
find it on Showtime

6. The Lucksmiths, "The Music Next Door" (2005)

The fun and challenge of making lists like this one is trying to find in yourself the reasoning of a high ranking. Is it because you can intellectually back up the significance of a song or album or movie, or is it because it played a big part of your life?

As corny as it sounds, there's no more right way to put it: The Lucksmiths were my musical soulmate. They combined everything good of pop music--good musicianship, thoughtful songwriting, wit, melody--with the things that spoke to me as who am I and where I've ended up. I don't know if anything that I write about them will talk anyone else into fandom, but everything in my life is there in their music.

"The Music Next Door" is everything I love about The Lucksmiths in one song. It's the simple, bittersweet story of friendship, with a gorgeous melody and a killer ending, where the pop ba-ba-ba fades into the melody echoed with a trumpet.
find it on Warmer Corners

5. Neko Case, "Deep Red Bells" (2002)

"Deep Red Bells" catches Neko Case at a perfect moment on her trip from straight country and honky-tonk to sometimes-maddening experiments in arrangement. The belting out of the song's title is the single greatest show of the sheer power of her incredible voice and that alone is enough to make it one of my favorite songs, but it's the middle section that pushes it into genius. In just a few lines, she paints a perfect portrait of rudderless, violent lives before yielding back to the power of the title lines:

Where does this mean world cast its cold eye? Who's left to suffer long about you? Does your soul cast about like an old paper bag, past empty lots and early graves? Those like you who lost their way, murdered on the interstate, while the red bells rang like thunder...

find it on Blacklisted

4. M.I.A., "Galang" (2005)

The mixing and matching of music cultures has been going on for centuries, and accelerated with recorded media in the last 70-80 years, but it was "Galang" that was that "oh!" moment for me of how global music can be, not just in a way that says that one ingredient is added to another stew, but in a true sense of being a kind of music of the whole world.

But what the hell: it's a fucking banger, and that's as universal as it gets. The hook of the beat can take you anywhere in the world, and the chant at the end could take you anywhere in the galaxy. If you really want to, the song could be dissected into its various South Asian, North and South American and British parts, but as a whole it's just a primal song in a language that everyone (or at least, anyone fun) speaks.
find it on Arular

3. Joanna Newsom, "Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie" (2004)

There's not much I can do to convince anyone of this song's greatness. The very first time I heard it, I was overwhelmed, and it immediately became a favorite. But to understate it, I've found that this is not a common first reaction. More likely is that you'll be like a friend of mine who listened to it quietly for the first time, and when it was over, said, "If I hear that woman's voice again I'll kill myself."

This is a song that I would wish I could convince the doubters and haters of the fragile power it wields. The beautiful words and the tender attack of the harp backdrops a shattered voice. It has the feel of a traditional Appalachian ballad, but the shifting lines make it totally modern. It's constantly abandoning melodic ideas for better emotional expressions, giving the song constant build and movement, but it still lives as a perfect whole. It's great poetry ("Your skin is something that I stir into my tea", "waltzing with the open sea") seems to tell a lifetime worth of stories of defeat whose only sum is the plaintive, exhausted wail that ends the song.
find it on The Milk-Eyed Mender

2. Arcade Fire, "Wake Up" (2004)

In February of 2007, I was walking through my neighborhood one Sunday morning to get breakfast. I started feeling dizzy, and the next thing I knew, I was on a gurney in the back of an ambulance, unable to remember even my name.

I can't really call it a near-death experience, because there was nothing wrong with me, something I know from dozens of tests. But I feel like I know what it's like to die suddenly, to have my entire life--every accomplishment and defeat, love and heartbreak, frustration, argument, joy--come to a close in one quick, unexpected, easy moment, with the swirling sidewalk of R Street being the very last thing that my perspective took in.

I know that it was only coincidence that I started listening to "Wake Up" a lot after that incident (it mostly had to do with this video), but this song never sounds like anything less than all of life and death. It's when the concepts of the enormity and smallness of life collide; when total confidence and utter futility are the same thing; when the defeat of "we're just a million little gods causing rainstorms turning every good thing to rust" is delivered with passion, and the conviction of "I can see where I am going" is delivered with fear and uncertainty.

I'm sure you hear something different, and I hear an amazing song as much as you do. I can can't listen to it without it driving home the singularity of life that can end all too easily, putting a quick stop to every single thing you've ever done. And truly knowing this has strengthened my beliefs, but it can just as easily make me feel like everything is pointless. This song shakes me.

I guess we'll just have to adjust.

find it on Funeral

1. LCD Soundsystem, "Yeah (Crass Version)" (2005)

I could write an entire book about this song. Every moment has movement: a bassline is changing or the hi-hat rhythm switches up or a synth voice is tweaked. Vocals come in and and raise and lower in intensity. The major moments never cease to devastate me, and the minor moments are constant rushes.

It's a song of nasty grit and quietly considered intelligence. It starts without wasting a second and ends in a wasted mess, a spent shell of its tight beginning. It's meant for dancefloors and best with headphones. It has the monotone urgency of sheer volume yet still creates a feel of acrobatic melody. It's as ripe for heady academic analysis as it is for thoughtless wildness, and I've done both with this song many times.

It's a life's worth of excitement in ten minutes: exhilarating, exhausting and still somehow sad. It's a simple story with a million possible interpretations, and a climax (7:31-8:00) that blots out everything else in the world in a blinding, overwhelming shot.

It's a perfect song--one of the few of any time I can think of that's as soulful as is it considered--and if you love me, you'll let me take you through it moment by moment sometime.
find it on LCD Soundsystem

100-81 | 80-61 | 60-41 | 40-21 | 20-1

Photo: my nephew, Thanksgiving 2003.

Top 100 Songs of The 00s: 40-21

2009-12-17T07:30:00.019-05:00

The audio's been removed, but there's plenty more where that came from coming up. Subscribe to our RSS feed, follow us on Hype Machine, or follow us on Twitter.

100-81 | 80-61 | 60-41 | 40-21 | 20-1

40. TV On The Radio, "Halfway Home" (2008)

This song feels so deliberately and fussily constructed that it's kind of funny to say it thrives on energy and emotion, and yet...here we are. As much as I love the constant guitar drone or the mechanic handclaps, it was the ephiphanous first line of the chorus that knocked the wind out of me the very first time I heard it, and it still does.
find it on Dear Science

39. Menomena, "Muscle N Flo" (2007)

Pop song craftsmen the world over know the first rule of A Hook That Won't Leave Your Head: use an everyday phrase, or at least something that has everyday applications. Now, I don't think that Menomena had pop stardom in mind when they wrote "Muscle N Flo", but they nailed that perfect-for-the-moment pop phrasing with "In the morning I stumble my way toward the mirror". Not many mornings when that doesn't run through my head.

That's the hook, but the true genius moment begins at 2:22: a baptizing swell of organ and then "Come lay down your head upon my chest." It's that precious and rare moment of absolute surrender to higher powers, of total overwhelming beauty. If you think that's overstatement, then we're clearly not hearing the same thing.
find it on Friend and Foe

38. The Dandy Warhols, "Bohemian Like You" (2000)

There's a pretty heavy emotional toll that personal history research like this list takes. You have to go back over a decades worth of memories and feelings and try to dust them off and see if you can tell what they are or if they even make any sense. Like: who was it in my life that had the theory that every song needed to have something that you can yell out? Was it a friend that I'm still in touch with or an ex-girlfriend or an coworker at one of the five jobs I've had this decade? It was someone somewhere, but damn if I can remember who it is.

Anyway, whoever it is must LOVE this song. It's pretty much, like, the best yelling song ever. Sure it's catchy and funny and a blast to sing along with and being in a sweaty club and singing/not singing "I like you" to someone you could really like or possibly just alcoholically like, but it all gets wiped out with the self-pleasuring, obliterating party yell of "WOO!"
find it on Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia

37. Missy Elliott, "Pass That Dutch" (2003)

Only Missy Elliott could make such a scorching club track so cartoony, and only Timbaland could make such a silly song so menacingly hot. This beat made it into a pretty good number of this decade's chart hits, but it never sounded nearly as good as it does here: the constant handclaps moving the song along while the one-note bassline provides the heat. Fun and fire defined.
find it on Pass That Dutch

36. Camera Obscura, "Happy New Year" (2002)

"Happy New Year, you're my only vice" is on my lips every January first, but this song is in my head on a lot more days of the year. The beautiful melody, the shy vocals, the back-and-forth "do you have to"/"yes I do" at the end have never staled. I'm sure that Camera Obscura's softness is a turnoff to a lot of people, but it's just right to me: a musical definition of "lovely".
find it on Biggest Bluest Hi-Fi

35. Mclusky, "To Hell With Good Intentions" (2002)

Usually, I don't miss having more loud music in my collection, but it's when I hear songs like "To Hell With Good Intentions" that I wish hard that I could get more intelligent guides to quality volume. This song is more Pixies-loud than punk-loud, but it's still a pure and simple shot of adrenaline, with a harsh and sparse bass, one of the greatest muted distorted guitar hits this side of "Creep", and a wicked and weird sense of humor. Sing it.
find it on Mclusky do Dallas

34. Jens Lekman, "The Opposite Of Hallelujah" (2007)

It's probably pretty clear by now that I have a better-than-average tolerance for twee, but Jens Lekman can test even me. I never could get into it until I heard this one: a song as right as standard-issue indiepop can get. There's that crisp 00s production again, a perfect complement to the raised-note chorus and it's fully satisfying resolution, "you don't know what I'm going through." I thought I was mostly done with indiepop by 2007, but this song proved me very, gratefully wrong.
find it on Night Falls Over Kortedala

33. The Streets, "Fit But You Know It" (2004)

Funny songs don't usually last long after the joke's worn off, but the appeal stays when the joke has insight. "Fit But You Know It" is about last-word brilliant on being hot for someone that you act like you never wanted when it's clear you never even had a chance. The constant lusting and then denying never loses its luster after tons of listens.

It's also a party cut from the highest shelf. Yes yes oh yay.
find it on A Grand Don't Come For Free

32. Loney Dear, "I Am John" (2007)

"Unrelenting" is a word usually reserved for metal reviews and not quiet falsetto songs by Swedish tweepoppers, but unrelenting is exactly what the vocals are here. They come so rapidfire that every line almost tumbles on top of the next, and it's really only the break in the middle that allows a gasp of air. By the final repeats of "I've got a feeling for you and we danced for so long, I want your arms around me like lovers do, and I'm never gonna let you down", the song has built to an incredible climax. It's a sound that's a lot like other indiepop and yet unlike anything else.

"I told you, 'Never gonna let you down, but I will always let you down."
find it on Loney, Noir

31. Barcelona, "Studio Hair Gel" (2000)

It's totally impossible to be objective about a band that was made up of four close friends of mine, three of which I was also working with while the band was together. It's not just that you're partial to the creations of your friends, but there's a surprise that goes along with loving your friend's art and knowing that you don't just have to pretend to love it that lifts the love to even higher levels.

But even when I step back as much as I can to look at this song (among the many brilliant Barcelona tracks), it still feels like a world-beater. It's a simple verse-chorus, verse-chorus, but the hook buries deep, set as it is to the perfect indiepop dance rhythm. Whether I love this song or just love my friends, I don't know, and I don't really care.
find it on Zero One Infinity

30. Junior Senior, "Can I Get Get Get" (2007)

Silliness, dumb fun and bubblegum. This is about as effervescent as pop--indie or otherwise--got this decade, and it was never anything other than a joy, obliterating any bad feeling the second it came on. "Why not?!" never failed to make me laugh, the chorus never failed to make me dance, and this song never failed to make anything and everything better.
find it on Hey Hey My My Yo Yo

29. Kleenex Girl Wonder, "Why I Write Such Good Songs" (2000)

If this list was was Top Songs That Should Have Been Top Ten Hits But Weren't, this would be the number one, easily. The first time I heard this track, my friend Ivan played it for me in his office (oh, the easy dot-com days), and when it got to the title line--"you chose me and you were wrong and that's why I write such good songs"--I almost fell over, I was so blown away by the genius of the line. And from when I've played it for other people, that experience of loving it immediately is universal.
find it on After Mathematics

28. Animal Collective, "My Girls" (2009)

It's hard to resist the temptation to call out Animal Collective's move towards poppier sounds on Merriweather Post Pavilion, but it seems logical to me. It's not like they were any strangers to hooks before 2009, and it makes plenty of sense that they would find that focus as they went along. Their art is perfectly realized here, making sense of all their noise, the head-thrusting beats and primal yells.
find it on Merriweather Post Pavilion

27. Lykke Li, "Hanging High" (2008)

It's a challenge writing about a hundred songs and not feel like some words are being repeated to ridiculous levels. I'm both tempted and terrified to make a word cloud of this list and seeing how huge the words "amazing" and "perfect" would be.

Slightly smaller but still huge would be the word "fragile". There's something about singers that sound physically and emotionally broken, barely being able to lift up their voices to sing, that just crumbles me in the best possible way.

"Hanging High" is the apex of that sound. The chorus here is about as breakable as songs come. Somehow the backing vocals make the lead sound even more lonely, and if there's a line that sounds as sad as "I'm back where I started at, you know I'm a little lost", I can't think of it. A song I love, though I often have to force myself to stop listening to it when I realize that I'm feeling sad for no other reason than repeated plays.
find it on Youth Novels

26. Kelly Hogan, "I'll Go To My Grave Loving You" (2001)

Kelly Hogan is mostly known as Neko Case's secret weapon: the backing vocalist with the pitch-perfect pipes whose own material never quite matched her voice. It was all enjoyable enough--a collection of good country covers and decent but unmemorable originals--but it was a little bit stiff, and felt almost slightly uncomfortable.

But her version of the Statler Brother's "I'll Go To My Grave Loving You" is as inspired as anything that her boss Neko did, and stands as one of the most brilliant covers I've ever heard. The vibratoed guitar is so sparse that there seems to be ages between each pluck, letting Kelly Hogan draw out every line into as strong a promise of devotion as you'll ever hear.
find it on Because It Feel Good

25. Beyoncé, "Single Ladies" (2008)

I always felt like "Crazy In Love" was a song of diminishing returns: a great pop song that after a few dozen listens made me feeling like I wanted more from it. But I never wanted anything more from "Single Ladies". A brilliant beat and one of the great call-and-response hooks ever make it the pop single of the decade, and one that still sounds exciting and fresh even after a year of every-pop-culture-corner saturation.

Also: it's hard to separate this song from the amazing video that John Legend shot after the concert at the Lincoln Memorial before the inauguration, seeing Obama make the "Single Ladies" hand wave two days before he's sworn in as president.
find it on I Am...Sasha Fierce

24. Joanna Newsom, "Sadie" (2004)

Joanna Newsom's polarizing voice takes absolutely no time announcing itself in "Sadie", shrieking the title line that dares only the brave to keep going. I have to admit that I couldn't cross that line the first few times. I could hear that the songwriting was strong, but I just wasn't sure I really had the stamina to go through six minutes of that voice.

It's one of those times when perseverance paid off, and in a huge way. The songwriting isn't just "strong" here: it's a monument to melody, arrangement and phrasing. It's six minutes filled with pockets of devastating beauty that nearly knock the wind out of me every time I hear them.

2:35 "This is not my tune...but it's mine to use"
3:09 "Stretched on a hoop where I stitched this adage: 'Bless our house and its heart so savage'"
4:30 "And I'll tell you tomorrow, 'Oh, Sadie...go on home now'"
5:15 After a gorgeous, ascending harp trill comes the killer: "So dig up your bone, exhume your pinecone, Sadie"

find it on The Milk-Eyed Mender

23. Sprites, "Do It Yourself" (2002)

Barcelona's breakup was a tough to take, even though they'd only been at it for three years and the reasons for the end were understandable. I was excited that Jason Korzen decided to keep writing as Sprites, but I have to say that I was pretty underwhelmed at first, thinking that Barcelona's synths were better suited to Jay's songs than the Lucksmiths-influenced Sprites.

After a while, though, I realized that it was the opposite. "Do It Yourself" is perfectly wrapped in the dry sound of acoustic guitars and brushed snares, giving it a warmth and sincerity that can be missed with machines. Of course, with hooks and sentiments as great as "Never start a band with a best friend, never shake hands, never make plans", it almost doesn't matter what the backing is.

One of the greatest thrills of the decade was getting to play guitar with Sprites. I've been lucky that the bands I've played with have made music that I've really loved, but this was different: this was me not only getting to play with friends, but getting to play this, one of my alltime favorite songs.
find it on Starling, Spiders, Tiger and Sprites

22. Belle & Sebastian, "There's Too Much Love" (2000)

It's easy to romanticize the creative side of music and imagine it as a world where you're crafting the perfect sound song after song, but the reality is more that you're chasing what you have in your head, constantly frustrated that it never turns out as you imagine it.

I don't know if Stuart Murdoch (and company) consider "There's Too Much Love" as a realization of their ambitions, but as someone who spent 1997-2000 in absolute love with Belle & Sebastian, this song feels like a crystallization of everything they attempted up to that point. The Spector-esque strings, the meeting of shy indie with confident musicianship, and the final realization of full love instead of searching cynicism all seem like the logical sum of everything B&S did in their first five years.
find it on Fold Your Hands Child You Walk Like a Peasant

21. LCD Soundsystem, "All My Friends" (2007)

In the fall of 2001, I turned 30, and everything philosophical that come along with the thirties were a huge part of my decade. I felt free from the expectations growing up that adulthood had to be a certain way, and I finally started learning from my mistakes and ease up on the angst. But I also realized how odd aging it was, and watched it change me and everything around me in ways I figured would never happen.

James Murphy's weathered words were messages of absolute enlightenment to me: the awkwardness of the music geek who's become too conscious of being older than everyone else at the shows and clubs ("when you're drunk and the kids look impossibly tan, you think over and over, 'Hey, I'm finally dead'"), and the simple, strange reflections ("You spent the first five years trying to get with the plan, and the next five years trying to be with your friends again").

The New Order-style guitar and the slow vocal build are foundations for a song that sings about the weariness of the philosophies of aging without actually singing them out.
find it on Sound Of Silver

100-81 | 80-61 | 60-41 | 40-21 | 20-1

Photo: My sister Mary, Bar Italia, London, Spring 2004.