The Best Songs of the 2000s: #499

#499: "Throught the Fire and Flames" (2006) - Dragonforce

On Guitar Hero (vol. 1), this was the boss song, a record whose guitar pyrotechnics melted away all but the most nimble-fingered of glorified air guitarists. The drumming and the vocals shred, too, but it's the guitars that are important here, as Guitar Hero (and, subsequently, Rock Band) is one of the two most musically influential innovations of this past decade.

Sure, some musicians bemoan the fact that millions are picking up a video-game controller instead of a "real" guitar, but of those millions, thousands have subsequently picked up a "real" guitar and started learning how to play the "real" thing and even started their own bands. I know personally of at least five such cases. Plus, there's the fact that Toys 'R' Us and Wal-Mart sold (and in some stores sold out) more "real" guitars these past three years than they've ever sold in all the umpteen years combined. Anything that gets an instrument in the hands of someone wanting to learn how to play, no matter what they're learning how to play or what inspired them in the first place, is a good thing. Musical literacy can only lead to a greater nation, a greater world, as it develops the mind.

As far as the track itself (nevermind the influence): it's value doesn't only come from the band's virtuosity, but it also comes from the strong melody that emerges from the uber-tapping and double-kick barrage. It's not quite the equivalent of Van Halen's "Jump," but in this new musical world, it's close enough.

The Best Songs of the 2000s: #500

#500: "Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)" (2001) - Alan Jackson

Rush-recorded and rush-released after the 9/11 attacks, Jackson's song was criticized because, basically, it didn't seem too angry. It also didn't implicate the Powers That Were in any wrongdoing, nor did it ask many deep questions. It didn't question the nature of the events, and it sounded maudlin.

Well, most of those criticisms were accurate, but none of those should have denegrated the song. Jackson's song didn't criticize, but it didn't need to. What Jackson offered was a song of empathy. It's sentimental, but that sentiment seems appropriate to the mournful situation. One doesn't go to a funeral and start attacking and villifying any one person or the cause of death: one offers a sympathetic soldier--analysis can come later. Jackson had this song on the radio--not at his behest, either--in two months, and the nation was still in mourning. The deeper questions could--and did--come later.

The song grows complex towards the end, though. Jackson offers what seems to be a glaring contradiction, asking the audience if they turned off the violent television program and then asking them if they went and bought a gun. He doesn't seem to be hewing to the Republican/conservative party line here, though (as that contradiction might seem to denote), for his last question--and ultimate answer--"the greatest is love"--sure seems to be asking his audience to show kindness not only to each other, but to all others. That bit of philosophy is about as liberal and open-minded a thought as I've ever heard from a Nashville record, and that deserves mention.

The mandolin's sad and sweet, too. Just like the entire song.

The Best Songs of the 2000s

Here's a list of 189 artists whose records didn't  make my final cut, but who recorded music of quality this past decade, so their names are definitely worth dropping.

· AC/DC                            
· AM
· Alien Ant Farm
· The Almighty Defenders
· John Anderson
· Andrew W.K.
· The Answer
· The Asteroids Galaxy
· Baby Bash
· Backyard Babies
· Bat for Lashes
· Battles
· Be Your Own Pet
· Beausoleil
· Billy Boy on Poison
· Diane Birch
· Black Label Society
· Amanda Blank
· Mary J. Blige
· Blitzen Trapper
· BLK JKS
· Booker T.
· Brendan Benson
· Broadcast Radio
· The Brides of Destruction
· Bun B
· Buckethead
· The Cardigans
· Manu Chao
· Charm City Devils
· Choir of Non-Believers
· Guy Clark
· Cocktail Slippers
· Ry Cooder
· Elvis Costello
· Samantha Crain
· Rodney Crowell
· Current Swell
· Daddy Yankee
· Dan Auerbach
· Dark Meat
· The Dark Romantics
· The Dead 60s
· The Dead Weather
· The Decemberists
· Deer Tick
· The Deftones
· James Luther Dickinson
· Diddy
· The Dirty Sweet
· Dr. John
· Drums & Tuba
· Electric Owls
· Eliza Jane
· Eve
· The Films
· Liam Finn
· Five Horse Johnson
· The Flatlanders
· Flossy & the Unicorns
· Folk Uke
· The Fratellis
· Fred
· Ace Frehley
· Andy Friedman
· Fruit Bats
· Gentleman Jesse
· Jimmie Dale Gilmore
· Al Green
· Green Day
· Heaven & Hell
· Hakan Hellstrom
· Jolie Holland
· The Horror Pops
· The Horrors
· I’m from Barcelona
· In This Moment
· Iron Maiden
· Bon Iver
· Flaco Jaminez
· Sarah Jarosz
· Jimmy Eat World
· Johnny Boy
· Judas Priest
· Richard Julian
· Kasabian
· Killswitch Engaged
· Sean Kingston
· Kiss
· Solange Knowles
· Alison Krauss
· The Knux
· Aaron Lacrate
· Lady Gaga
· The Last Vegas
· Late of the Pier
· Cyndi Lauper
· The Laureates
· Ryan Levine
· Jeffrey Lewis
· The Liars
· Love as Laughter
· Nick Lowe
· Madlib
· Magnetic Fields
· Jesse Malin
· Richard McGraw
· Tim McGraw
· Megadeth
· John Mellencamp
· Metallica
· MGMT
· Charlie Miller
· Miss Li
· Monster Magnet
· Motorhead
· Movits!
· Mumford & Son
· MV & EE with the Bummer Road
· Nine Inch Nails
· Nobunny
· Noisettes
· Notorious Cherry Bombs
· Paolo Nutini
· Nora O’ Connor
· Shane O’ Dazier
· Colby O’ Donis
· Oh Darling
· James Otto
· Pantera
· The Parlor Mob
· Sean Paul
· Pearl Jam
· The Phenomenal Handclap Band
· Grant Lee Phillips
· Chris Pierce
· Robert Plant
· The Polyphonic Spree
· Portugal the Man
· Quasimoto
· Queensryche
· Radio Moscow
· Rancid
· Jay Reatard
· Robyn
· The Rosewood Thieves
· Rye Rye
· Saliva
· Santogold
· Sasquatch
· Ron Sexsmith
· Naomi Shelton
· The Silversun Pickups
· Slash’s Snakepit
· Slayer
· Todd Snider
· Spank Rock
· George Strait
· Ken Stringfellow
· Jazmine Sullivan
· Taylor Swift
· The Sword
· System of a Down
· Testament
· Thee American Revolution
· The Thermals
· Tool
· Two Door Cinema Club
· The Unicorns
· Unk
· Keith Urban
· The Vanity Plan
· Velvet Revolover
· Vetiver
· Rhonda Vincent
· Brooke Waggoner
· Butch Walker
· The Walkmen
· Webbie
· The Weepies
· Brooke White
· Wilco
· Charlie Wilson
· Winter Gloves
· Xiu Xiu
· Yacht
· Rachael Yamagata
· 16 Horsepower

The Best Songs of the 2000s

Alrighty...

...so my one-week vacation from my blog turned into a one-week and seven-month vacation, but now I'm back/to let you know/I can really shake down the rest of these songs before the day/year/decade is over.

Okay, maybe I can't shake down all the rest of the songs on my list of the best songs of this past decade all in one day, but a man has to start somewhere.

I'll begin by listing almost two-hundred artists whose records didn't quite make my cut, but who recorded admirable music nonetheless.

I'll continue by then offering capsule reviews of 100 songs that either didn't quite make my original list (but I've since come to appreciate much more) or that I overlooked upon the way. These 100 songs were published sometime between January 2000 and June 2008.

I'll complete my list--hopefully, sometime within the next two weeks, possibly sooner--by offering full reviews of the top 100 songs on my list of the best records of the decade as well as analyzing (somewhat simultaneously) 67 songs that were released between July 2008 (my original cut-off date when I started this blog a year-and-a-half ago) and December 2009.

The sum of all these record reviews (333 + 100 +67) will then be 500! Yes, five-hundred fantastic pop songs of this past decade that have made my life more enjoyable. I could easily (though not quickly) lengthen the total to 750, and given a couple/three months to research, even 1000, but I think 500 will do quite nicely.

It's now December 31, less than one day away from a new year/new decade, so let's get rolling!

The Countdown Capsule, Part V: 150-101

Now, with only one-hundred records left on my chart, I'm taking a mini-vacation as Foot Foot and I descend upon Biloxi to watch the Black Crowes and for me to freckle and get a red (as unfortunately, I can't get a tan). The chart will resume on Monday with #100.

For those of you just now catching up, here are the last fifty:
For those of you not just now catching up, here are the last fifty:

#150: "Can't Get You Out of My Head" - Kylie Minogue
#149: "Portions for Foxes" - Rilo Kiley
#148: "Mercy" - Duffy
#147: "Don't Let Him Waste Your Time" - Jarvis Cocker
#146: "All of This" - Blink-182
#145: "Bullets" - Tunng
#144: "Put Your Records On" - Corinne Bailey Rae
#143: "Imitation of Life" - R.E.M.
#142: "Slow Jamz" - Jamie Foxx featuring Twista
#141: "Run to Me" - Matthew Sweet & Susanna Hoffs
#140: "I Found Out" - Nathanial Mayer
#139: "Ya Ya Ya (Looking for My Baby) - Detroit Cobras
#138: "Dick in Dixie" - Hank Williams III
#137: "Gone and Went" - Bob Childers
#136: "On a Bus to St. Cloud" - Jimmy LaFave
#135: "Valerie" - Mark Ronson featuring Amy Winehouse
#134: "Duplexes of the Dead" - Fiery Furnaces
#133: "Right Out of Your Hand" - Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds
#132: "Step in the Name of Love" - R. Kelly
#131: "Beloved Stranger" - Cindylee Berryhill
#130: "Hit the Ground" - Lizz Wright
#129: "Yeah" - Usher
#128: "Four Winds" - Bright Eyes
#127: "Saint Martha Blues" - Otis Taylor
#126: "Decoration Day" - Drive-By Truckers
#125: "State of Massachusetts" - Dropkick Murphys
#124: "American Skin (41 Shots)" - Bruce Springsteen
#123: "Paper Planes" - M.I.A.
#122: "A Border Tale" - Robert Earl Keen
#121: "Choctaw Bingo" - James McMurtry
#120: "Your Man" - Josh Turner
#119: "Old School" - Lyfe Jennings featuring Snoop Dogg
#118: "When the Crying Is Over" - Ian McLagan & the Bump Band
#117: "All I Wanna Do" - Jamie Lidell
#116: "Falling Slowly" - Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova
#115: "No One Knows" - Mark Ronson featuring Domino
#114: "No One Knows" - Queens of the Stone Age
#113: "The Sweet Escape" - Gwen Stefani
#112: "1234" - Feist
#111: "A Case of You" - Prince
#110: "A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow" - Mitch & Mickie
#109: "Penny & Me (Live)" - Hanson
#108: "Seven Nation Army" - White Stripes
#107: "Your Touch" - Black Keys
#106: "1, 2 Step" - Ciara featuring Missy Elliot
#105: "My Sweet Annette" - Drive-By Truckers
#104: "No Vacancy" - Subdudes
#103: "Cryin' in the Streets" - Buckwheat Zydeco
#102: "Belleville Rendez-Vous" - -M-
#101: "A Stroke of Genie-Us" - Freelance Hellraiser

The capsule list from 151-200 can be found here.
The capsule list from 201-249 can be found here.
The capsule list from 250-300 can be found here.
The capsule list from 301-333 can be found here.

The Best Songs of the 2000s: #101

#101: "A Stroke of Genie-us" (2001) - Freelance Hellraiser

Now we come to just about every DJ's favorite type of music: the mashup. Also known as bastard pop, plunderphonics, glitches, xenochrony, bootlegging, bootie, and--the term I first heard to describe this type of music--the mix (or the re-mix), mashups are (usually) where DJs (and producers and composers, too) mix one record with another to form a "new" composition. Mashups have been produced for over one-hundred years now, the (argueably) first one coming from classical composer Charles Ives with his Symphony No. 2 in 1906. A few times since, (various forms of) mashups have been national (and international) hits: the Stars on 45 records, the Jive Bunny & the Mastermixers records, and the record "Pump Up the Volume" by M/A/R/R/S (the biggest single mashup hit of all time). Of course, radio-station DJs have been mashing up records since the beginning of radio stations, oftentimes taking political speeches, sampling them, and dropping them into instrumentals or either "interviewing" these politicians using reel-to-reel recorders. Club and party DJs have...well, if you've heard a club or party DJ, you've heard a mashup.

In fact, considering the number of people who've heard mashups all their lives, I'm still amazed at the number of people who still--still--get angry at the basis for most mashups: sampling. Methinks there's a bit of inherent racism that comes along with the criticism of sampling (as it helped give birth--and still is one of the building blocks--to rap and hip-hop). The standard accusation is that samplers have no creative ability, so they just steal from those who do. Malarky. Take it from someone who's tried to mashup songs and has tried to write his own: making a good mashup is much more difficult than writing an "original" song. Heck, in the world of fine arts, isn't collage a legitimate form? I thought so.

The mashup here--a combination of Christina Aguilera's vocals to "Genie in a Bottle" and the instrumental of the Strokes' "Hard to Explain"--is better than either one of those two records. The whole, this time, is greater than the sum of its parts. The production work on "Genie in a Bottle" is too generic, and Julian Casablanca's vocals on "Hard to Explain" too low-key and low in the mix (albeit deliberately). The mixture of the two, though, plays upon each record's strengths: the Strokes hard-driving (but not overpowering) muscular roll and Aguilera's vocals (and "Genie"'s vocal melody, too); it mixes perfectly pop and rock. What we have here is a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich (though the RIAA--which squelched this record from ever being sold or played on ClearChannel radio stations--hasn't stopped production of the peanut-butter & jelly sandwich...yet) for the ears.

Just like you can't buy a peanut-butter & jelly sandwich in the grocery stores, you can't find this one in Wal-Mart or on iTunes. You gotta go home, sit in front of the counter, and find the mix yourself. You don't have to make it, though, as Freelance Hellraiser (British DJ Roy Kerr) has already made it for you. You just have to get up and go get it. As with the sandwich, the result is well-worth the effort. Let's pump up the volume.

The Best Songs of the 2000s: #102

#102: "Belleville Rendez-Vous" (2003) - -M-

An aural ode to one of the greatest guitarists ever from one of the greatest animation films ever (or at least of the past ten years), Benoit Charest's (music) and Sylvain Chomet's (words, and the film's director/animator) "Belleville Rendez-Vous" takes Django Reinhardt's gypsy jazz stylings (played here with some original fantastic fills by Thomas Dutronc), adds a heavy kickdrum thump, charismatic and stylized vocals & scatting by Mathieu Chedid (known famously around France and part of Europe as -M-), a kazoo, a paper-harmonica, and some sublimely silly scatalogical background lyrics, and makes an endlessy-inventive pop pastry, light on its feet, but ever so tasty. You could sing along even if you don't know the language (and the French original take flows so much smoother than the English version), and you could dance this in the home, in the street, and--with that insistent one-three thump, even in the clubs. Would have driven 'em wild there in the mid '30s, but it works just as well in this new millenium. Even Queen's "Bicycle Race" was never this much fun.

The Best Songs of the 2000s: #103

#103: "Cryin' in the Streets" (2005) - Buckwheat Zydeco
Let's stay on the streets of New Orleans a little longer, for though we still weep at the lives lost over the winds and floodwaters and we still shake our heads at all the homeless denizens, nearly double the number before Katrina, we see a jazz band march 'round the corner at Royal and step down Iberville, and as they approach closer, we hear them playing, and the music is elegiac, stately, yet joyful and hopeful, reflecting that ever-so-specifice Cajun mixture of Catholicism and African culture. It's grieving for the dead with head held high. It's a cheerful promise that tomorrow will be a better day, that those crying are doing so for--unbeknownst to them--our benefit, for we'll see their misery, and we'll sympathize or maybe even empathize, and we'll want to do our best to shine a light, to spotlight their suffering, so that, one day, though the rain may fall and the levees may break, there will be no one crying in the street.

Leading the band 'cross the Quarter is New Orleans's reigning Zydeco king, Stanley Dural, Jr., commonly known 'round these parts as Buckwheat. Buckwheat's been playing music professionally for more than forty years, and he got his start by helping back zydeco progenitor Clifton Chenier. Buckwheat's been performing with his own band--and they're fantastic--The Ils Sont Partis Band--for over thirty years, and they're responsible with the regional hit "My Toot Toot" some twenty-plus years ago.

Today, though, the band he leads is composed of all-star studio musicians: Michael Elizondo on bass, Jim Dickinson on piano, Jim Keltner on drums, and Ry Cooder (who formed the band and produced the sounds of this here parade) on slide guitar. The song of choice is a cover of Buckwheat's fellow George Perkins's 1970 regional hit (w/Perkins's backing band the Silver Stars) about socio-economic and racial injustice. Cooder tells the band to slow it down to funeral dirge tempo and to follow Buckwheat's accordion--and sweet tenor, which hasn't seemed to have aged a day since he began singing and which has never, ever sounded better or more soulfully exhuberant--all the way down the street. Much like the New Orleans jazz band that played at the graveside services to my late aunt Tommie Lynn Kirkland's funeral, they're respectful enough not to denigrate the occasion, but evangelical enough to play with enough emotion and verve to lift the spirits of the quick and the dead on this solemn event, trying to bring back the memories of what was once so wonderful.

New Orleans will come to full strength again, one day. I'm sure. Buckwheat Zydeco is, too. You can hear it in the song. It will rise. Like the waters--still, like dust, it'll rise.

The Best Songs of the 2000s: #104

#104: "No Vacancy" (2006) - The Subdudes


About this time every year, many of my friends and acquantainces and peers are either going or returning from vacation. About this time every year for about five years in a row, the missus and I would be not long returned from a senior class trip. Two of those years we went to New Orleans. The summer after our last senior class trip there, Foot Foot and I took our son Nicholas with us. The three of us had such a good time--and Foot Foot and I enjoyed our senior class trips there so much, too--that the missus and I decided to return to New Orleans every summer. That was in 2005, in June. In August of that year, Katrina hit. It hit our litte town pretty heavily, but the impact here was nothing compared to the devastation in New Orleans. We haven't been back.

We saw all the news reports, read all the articles and editorials, listened to all the griping from those who stayed and to all the griping from those who grew angry at all the griping from those who stayed. Blame passed back and forth, accusations of racism came from white and black/rich and poor, yet still people drowned, still people were left without means, without food, without a lifestyle. For varying reasons--lack of transportation, lack of funds, selfishness, greed, hubris--thousands of people stayed in New Orleans when Katrina hit, and many of these thousands died. The government (local, state, and federal) knew the levees wouldn't hold if a hurricane magnitude of Katrina hit the Gulf Coast near New Orleans, yet these thousands of people--for whatever reason--weren't evacuated. Some stayed willingly, would not have evacuated for any reason whatsoever (remember Camille, when people had hurricane parties--happened this time, too), but some...may they rest in peace.

Not all died, of course. Many who stayed survived, and many of those survivors were left jobless or homeless or both. With this increase in vagrancy came, of course, an increase in crime, in a city already known--yea, hailed--for its laissez faire attitude towards miscreants. Pundits and a few legislators even seriously considered leveling the city, calling it a wash, and starting over from scratch, building atop the rubble and the remains; and some even mentioned forgetting the city altogether, those few thousand remaining forced to leave and find work and home elsewhere.

Some did anyway. Many, though, scraped by best they could. The city's slowly recovering. As noted above, I haven't been back yet, though maybe in a couple of years, when my youngest is old enough to travel more than sixty miles without whining, Foot Foot and I will return. Maybe by then, the city will be as festive and gauche as it was the times I was there before. I hope so. Of all the cities I've visited, New Orleans has been my favorite.

The next two songs on my countdown are dedicated to The Big Easy. This first one was recorded by New Orleans' own Subdudes in May of 2005, three months before Katrina hit; it wasn't released (for obvious reasons) until January 2006. The song's a metaphor for leaving behind heartache and pain, but for me, "No Vacany" will always be inextricably linked to those left behind in the wake of Katrina. I can't hear the song and not think of the pictures and film/video footage of the effects the hurricane had upon the streets of New Orleans. It's supposed to be a hopeful song, but the singer's yearning tone, the somber instrumentation, and the empty spaces bluesman Keb Mo' leaves in the record leave me with images that aren't very hopeful. It makes me sad, a bit depressed, even though I know things will get better. There is (to paraphrase Ecclesiastes and Ben Harper) a reason to mourn.

The Best Songs of the 2000s: #105

#105: "My Sweet Annette" (2003) - Drive-By Truckers

If Bruce Springsteen would have been raised in the dirt hills of Alabama or the swamps of Florida instead of the swamps of Jersey, then something from his albums Darkness on the Edge of Town or The River might have sounded (in music and lyric) something like this. Since he wasn't, then Jason Isbell's song with his then band the Drive-By Truckers will have to do, and they do so nicely, detailing a relationship soured in the South, where people used to be much more likely to follow their emotions because they didn't have the education to follow their heads 'cause they were spending their youth working the farms and the fields trying to make sure their family didn't go hungry.

The country music here fits perfectly with the redneck setting, as the prospective groom dumps his bride for her maide-of-honor right at the altar on the wedding day. Sounds like a recycled idea from a cliched romantic comedy, doesn't it? Yeah, maybe it does, but that stuff still happens 'round here (and I suspect elswhere, too)--just ask my brother. When you do, make sure and ask if the band's still gonna play the reception even though the wedding's been called off. If you tell him the Truckers are that band, then he might consider it.

The Best Songs of the 2000s: #106

#106: "1, 2 Step" (2004) - Ciara featuring Missy Elliott

Not only a great "dance" song, it's a great song in-and-of itself, with slinky, funky, very Prince-like Jazzy Pha production (especially in the verses and the chorus), with a contemporary spin that blips and typanies and compresses the frizzy synth lines and interjections just enough to give space for the beat to hit and for the dancers to work their body and one, two step. Enough room for freestyle but structured and full enough for those who just want to follow along, bobbing their heads and shaking their tailfeathers.This one's even got a bridge straight from late-seventies disco/soul, with Ciara trying her best to come across like Disco Donna Summer (though she doesn't have Summer's energy and sounds more like Disco Diana Ross). Plus, you've got co-writer Missy Elliot rapping a solo in the middle, and any Mis-da-meanor addition is always arresting, this time with Ms. Elliot comparing her relative age to the finest cut of steak. Eat it quick, though, so you can get back on the floor.

The Best Songs of the 2000s: #107

#107: "Your Touch" (2006) - The Black Keys


From one guitar+drums duo of rocking blues to another, I give you (for the second time), Akron's finest,* The Black Keys, with Dan Auerbach on guitar and Patrick Carney on drums and behind the production mixing board. Perhaps moreso than any other band this decade, the Black Keys have benefitted from selling out. This duo has never had a hit record, but they're ubiquitous; more people have probably heard their songs than have heard the White Stripes (even though the White Stripes are headliners and the Keys are always someone's opening act) thanks to savvy Madison Avenue ad agents and TV show soundtrack compilers who know a thing-or-two more about great pop records than do any of those Clear-Channel executives who are ruining radio with their oligarchic rule. The Keys' songs are everywhere, from commercials to mainstream television to pay-cable shows to film soundtracks to video games. Why?
Like the White Stripes, the Black Keys have a primal thrust in the beats and riffs of their songs, and thus their music can appeal to a wide audience. Their song dynamics are catchy, as they often start and stop on a dime, pausing for a vocal effect or a drum roll or a pick slide. They keep it simple and basic, with no extravagence (which is where they differ from the White Stripes) to interfere amid messenger, message, and audience. In that straightforward approach--in musical and lyrical style and form--their music harkens back to the blues of Muddy Waters and Howlin' Wolf (as well as contemporary--and late--blues musician Junior Kimbrough, of whom the Keys owe a tremendous musical debt). Auerbach and Carney like rock and metal too, so Auerbach distorts his guitar so much that it sounds like it could have been played forty years ago by Dave Davies or Pete Townshend, and Carney splashes and crashes on the cymbals like early John Bonham.
Unlike the Kinks or the Who or Led Zeppelin, the Black Keys don't veer from their original path.** Carney adds a little echo to Auerbach's urgent yet controlled vocals, but otherwise it's a contemporary sound the Keys have, yet the energy and emotion are raw and open. Their music may harken back to bands from forty or fifty years past,*** yet the Black Keys aren't a retro band; there's not a false note on any of their records. These primal emotions--and this song, "Your Touch," is a great example--will never go out of style.
"Your Touch" is basically a song about desire, immediate desire, immediate physical--sexual--desire, and the Keys don't, uh, beat around the bush. Over and over, Auerbach moans, "I nee-eed...your touch," the drums and the guitar the only things holding him (ever so slightly) in check all the while replicating his will, his drive, his urge. It's a record almost anyone can connect with on a visceral level, and it's a visceral song, upfront and in our faces, so basic, so simple, the need to connect.

The Best Songs of the 2000s: #108

#108: "Seven Nation Army" (2003) - The White Stripes


As if to throw a big middle finger to their detractors, the White Stripes open the first song on their first album with an instrument that hadn't been on any of the three prior records: the bass guitar. It's a great rock bass riff too, opening the door ceremonially to Meg White's four-on-the-floor kick, all announcing the coming of a ticked-off Jack White, walking towards us, getting closer and closer, vocals climbing from speak-sing to falsetto to full-blown roar. His fuzz-guitar amps mimics the bass riff as it mimics his anger and his envy and his jealousy and his rage at all the gossip and ignorance and betrayal in his life and in his world. It's a little blues, a little Zeppelin, a little Pixies, and a little Nirvana, all wrapped up and striped in a red, white, and black package at our front door. We shake it, we hear it ticking, but we open it still, only to find it blow up in our face, our last images of Jack and Meg walking side by side--but not hand in hand--out to the horizon, their contours framed in shadow by the setting sun, this little Western movie epic of a record, a John Ford film on wax.

The Best Songs of the 2000s: #109

#109: "Penny & Me (Live Acoustic)" (2004) - Hanson

Well, the missus and I never used to put the pedal to the ground, and we never closed our eyes and pretended to fly, but we did use to love to ride around with the windows down (yeah, it's generic, but that doesn't mean it's not great), drinking cappucino, music almost blaring (until I was told to turn it down), and sometimes we'd listen to Hanson and their wonderfully chipper and full California harmonies, their upbeat tone, their just-this-side of bubblegum marriage of pop and rock. You know what? We still do. Or at least I still do. Sometimes. Taylor Hanson can still bring the soul and sing the lights out of anything, and the brothers' sense of melody and harmony and light rhythm is as impeccable as ever, and in this one, they ride that strumming acoustic guitar into the sunset, around it, and back home again. They mention my wife's name in the title, too, and as for Penny songs, this one's much better than Lionel Richie's "Penny Lover" (and slightly better than Moe Bandy's "I Love You Penny"), and guess what...tomorrow marks eleven years of wedded...uh...marriage.
Happy Anniversary, Foot Foot! This one's for you!

The Best Songs of the 2000s

Sometimes, my wife tells me that I don't use all my abilities to the best of my abilities often enough, that I should use my talents to make more money for the family. I've been married ten years now, and I've finally realized she's right. You see, I have two college degrees. I hava BS in English education, and I use that to make money from August to May; for June and July, though, I should be using my other degree to make money. What degree is that, praytell? I, thankyouverymuch, have a PhD in Amassing Collections of Disposable Popular Cultural Artifacts, specializing in Ones That No Other Thirty-Seven-Year-Old Adult Should Still Care About Enough To Spend Large Amounts Of Money On. A subset of that specializtion lies in American Popular Music of the Rock and Soul Era. I've had this degree for years, and I've never profited from it; well, since I'm now nearing forty, I think it's about time to do so. How do I plan to make my first million with my PhD? I'm going to blog. Then, I'm going to collect these blog posts in book form, sell it to the highest bidding publishing company, and just sit back (like I'm doing now) and reap the monetary awards and critical accolades. See, honey?

My first collection will be of what I think are the 333* Best Pop Songs of the 2000s. What makes me think I'm expert enough to know this? Why, if you don't believe me, you can just come on up to the house and take a gander at my Ph.D (see previous paragraph) hanging on the wall. I will issue a small disclaimer: I haven't heard every song released in the past eight years...but I'm pretty darn close! So, if you happen, by the time I'm finished with this bloglist about September of next year, to not notice a song you think deserves to be on this list, realize that yes, I've probably heard it, and that yes, you're wrong.

A note on my rationale: my list pertains to Western, mainly American, popular music—primarily because Jim Morrison said, "the West is the best," and I'm a strict Morrisonian. Though I’m slowly making inroads into other forms of Western music (classical, jazz, gospel, praise, electronic, etc...), I don’t feel confident enough that most of those cats know what they're doing enough to make great records. My list skews more heavily towards rock than any other single genre, but that's because, hey, I'm a rocker. And I rock. And so should my list.

I'm going to start this list today with #333, and I'll continue adding one song a day for the rest of the week, but I'll rest on the weekend (if God gets one day a week off, then, Hell, I should get at least two). If all goes according to plan, then I should post my #1 record sometime in October of '09. What happens to all the great songs that will be released between now and then? Well, at the end of '09, I'll post an appendix to the list, listing (and briefly discussing) those songs. So, any song released from this Tuesday, July 15 until December 2009 will not appear on this original list.

Ready to get started? Good. Let's.


NOTES * - 333 was a number I picked for two reasons: I liked its repetitive nature, and I guessed that there wouldn't be too many more great songs than three hundred. I've since discovered I was wrong on the latter. I've expanded the list to 500, and I could expand to 700 easily and 1,000 with another month or two of research. (12/31/09)