The 333 Best Pop Songs of the 2000s: #269

#269: "Steal My Kisses" (2000) - Ben Harper

Ben Harper could be pop music's Ferris Bueller. He can play folk, funk, Stax/Volt, Motown, reggae, rock, blues, gospel, indie, jam, and rap. The sportos, the motorheads, geeks, bloods, waistoids-- they all adore him. They think he's a righteous dude. He can be everything to everybody. He could be Elvis Presley. He could be James Brown. He could be Jay-Z. Or...he could be Lenny Kravitz.

As multi-talented a musician as Harper is, he quite often comes across as too respectful, too beholden to the music he adores and emulates so well. He seems far too earnest, so much so that his music--and his vocals--sometimes borders into Dullsville. His most exciting records come from when he frees himself from rigid structure and sound, giving himself the freedom to create something other than genre pastiche. In "Steal My Kisses," Harper does just that.

He synchopatedly strums over a basic three-chord and lets his band work tastefully around it. It's typical jam band, reggae-light music, and it's pleasant enough. It's mall music, funk for the Abercrombie & Finch generation--the type of music that Harper plays so well that he could probably do it in his sleep. And he has before, as his music often meanders and noodles needlessly. Harper's on his game here, though, as he keeps the noodling down to a bare minimum, just enough to sustain the groove and support the song (rather than have the song support the noodling, which is where so many jam bands--and Harper is guilty of this, too--go terribly wrong, because their musicians don't have the chops nor the imagination to make such a concept work well). He adds a couple of fantastic touches, too. First, there's the opening--and closing--beat-boxing. It's good enough to be on a par with some of the Fat Boys' work; in fact, the entire song could work around it instead of the guitar pattern. Then, there's the a cappella break about two-thirds of the way in, coming straight from doo-wop. Sweet. The band re-enters, plays for a bit, and the song fades on Harper's beat-boxing.

Harper is often praised for his organic sound and his organic approach to music, but here, Harper lets the studio work for him, giving him precise and concise control over elements of his music that get away from him live. He combines genres (funk, reggae, rap, doo-wop) to create a ditty more refreshing and life-fulfilling than any ol' Bonnaroo romp. "Steal My Kisses" is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend you picking it up.

The 333 Best Pop Songs of the 2000s: #270

#270: "Too Much" (2001) - David Garza

An airy slip of a song—blow on it, and it floats away—but it’ll come floating back on those simple, cheesy keyboard chords; its drum machine with its busted-speaker sound; and, best of all, the effervescent falsetto of Austin, Texas's second favorite son (officially, even--guess who's the first?), whose magnificent voice dances all around us, playful, crooning, whispering, caressing our ears like no male singer has since Prince just wanted our extra time and our kiss. Nothing to do here but surrender, ‘cause—like the man says—we’re all going down.

The 333 Best Pop Songs of the 2000s: #271

#271: "Hot in Herre" (2002) - Nelly

Nelly’s often been lambasted by rap and rock critics because, basically, his records are too pop, too geared to the mass market. These critics not only question his sensibilities, but they also question his credibility. Nelly’s not street; he’s frontin’; he’s not real rap. While the latter criticisms may be true (though I don’t know, nor do I care), they don’t mean whit as far as the quality of the music is concerned. And most of Nelly’s singles have been fantastic pop music, dynamic dance records. Though his voice might not have the air of authenticity that most of the highly-regarded rappers have, Nelly certainly knows how to ride a rhythm; his cadence is impeccable, his grunting asides popping on the upbeat, mirroring the rhythm of the guitar.

Nelly also knows how to choose a producer; in this case, it's the Neptunes with just the right balance of synths, drum machines, bass, and guitar, all syncopating in and out of the mix, hearing a cowbell and keyboard here, a guitar and bass there, with the record’s rhythm created not by any single instrument, but by the arrangement of all, and the heat generated by the Neptunes' alacrity of compression. It's a stuffy record, but the humidity mirrors the lyric.

In “Hot in Herre,” Nelly raps/sings about getting naked because the temperature in the room has risen, and the temperature has risen ‘cause everyone’s dancing, and everyone’s dancing ‘cause Nelly is rapping, and Nelly is rapping ‘cause everyone’s dancing—even the girl dancing in front of her mirror. Dancing as a precursor to sex—that’s (part of) what this song’s about, which might explain which some of the rockers don’t like Nelly—but it doesn’t explain the hard-core rappers. Except that maybe—just maybe—most hard-core rap is about violence and intimidation, both of which negate freedom, which is what dancing—clothed or not—is about in the first place.

The 333 Best Pop Songs of the 2000s: #272

#272: "All My Life" (2002) - Foo Fighters

Dave Grohl's Foo Fighters have been one of the top five rock bands in the world for the past ten-plus years...as far as sales are concerned. Most critics love 'em, too, and it's pretty easy to see why. First of all, Grohl is about as affable a front man as there is (or ever has been) in hard rock, and he's smart, too. Secondly, the band records radio-friendly melodies that have enough earnestness and crunch to play on College Radio, Modern Rock Radio, Top 40 radio, and even (I kid you not) Adult Contemporary radio. They've yet to go Country or Urban, but I bet those (especially the former) aren't too far ahead. You can head-bang to 'em, you can hum in the shower to 'em, you can even shop in Wal-Mart to 'em. They're the All-American Band--they're Nickelback with positive reviews. Personally, I don't like 'em.

I've got nothing against Grohl (who's grown into a competent singer and has always been a fantastic rock drummer) or any other band members (drummer Taylor Hawkins may be even better than Grohl, and that's saying something). They--especially Grohl--sound very knowledgeble and respectful in interviews. They even give to charity (though it might depend upon one's definition of charity). It's just their music--I find it dull and safe. I don't find excitement within the grooves. I don't see 'em ever taking any chances musically or lyrically. It's radio ga-ga--metal for those who don't like metal--mediocre, even.

Their single "All My Life," though somewhat formulaic, contains two elements exciting enough to keep me coming back. First, the odd time-signature changes in the verses seem to spark the band, and second, Grohl lifts the song's pseudo-coda (and the parallel structure of the end of one of the verses) straight from the Violent Femmes--and I applaud him for it. He sings, "Dead, dead, all for the next one," and repeats and builds until he and the band are chomping at Gordon Gano's bit as they leap into proto-punk-metal fury--just at the point where Gano pulled back on the reigns (in the Femmes' "Kiss Off"). They scream and thrash, throwing common musical sense--and the song proper--out the door...for just a few seconds...and then the jingle-ready melody of the chorus comes back to save the song...and then the Foo Fighters eschew the natural fade and rush head-first, rock and roll style, into the cold stop.

Grohl and company never completely escape the boundaries of the Well-Made Pop-Rock Song that they've propigated throughout their career, but for a few seconds they try against Grohl's "better" instincts and push those walls back, allowing the spirit of rock and roll to shine just for a few moments...and that's all we need.

The 333 Best Pop Songs of the 2000s: #273

#273: "The Seed (2.0)" (2002) - The Roots & Cody ChesnuTT

The Roots have been releasing records for fifteen years now, and with each album, their lyrics and music get tougher, darker, more mature, more political...and less accessible. Their musical style has evolved from jazz lite to hard funk, somewhat mirroring the musical growth (or shrinkage) of Sly & the Family Stone, going deeper within themselves and their culture and society in general, looking straight into the worst aspects of the world that surrounds them and the world within themselves. Their hip-hop is dark, and at times it's inscrutable. And they're a better band because of it, one of the most important ones of this past decade. If OutKast are the Beatles of hip-hop because of their vibrance and eclecticism and expansiveness, then the Roots are (now) its Velvet Underground, producing dirty and gritty tales with ever-increasing claustrophobia.

Their album Phrenology contained their last great single (though not their last great music--and there's a difference), "The Seed (2.0)." The notation following the title reflects the song's status as a cover, the original recorded by none other than Georgia neo-soul singer Cody ChesnuTT--the same artist on this version. This version's a re-make as much as it is a cover, as ChesnuTT sings his original, but this time he's surrounded by expert musicians and a great producer--the Roots' drummer ?uestlove. ChesnuTT's original had a dandy of a melody, but it's sound was compressed and anemic. ?uestlove opens up the record, adding some reverb to ChesnuTT's reggae guitar and giving it space to work. He also gives himself a fantastic, live drum sound. The tougher yet looser sound--along with Black Thougt's raspy rapping--provides a rugged counterpoint to ChesnuTT's sweet tenor, giving the record a great sense of balance.

As great as the music is, the lyric is even better. First time I heard it, though, I was taken aback by what I thought were lines that were a clumsy and awkward and explicit-as-it-gets-without-swearing. I wondered how this song ever got any rotation. I wasn't offended, but I was mildly shocked. And then I googled the lyrics. Oops. What ChesnuTT sings in the chorus is "I push my seed in her push for life." Oh. I thought the second push was, uh, another word entirely. This makes more sense--except that it doesn't...not literally. Initially, I though this song was about male reproductive virility. I was wrong...and I was right, too.

The song is about reproduction, and it is about virility, but it is not about sex. It's about procreation of a different sort. The song is an allegory about the evolution and revolution of rock and roll and soul and rap--and the solution created by the compounding of all three. It's about the need to make one's self heard, about the need to create, about the need to leave a musical legacy greater than the current one. Essentially, it's about the need to form a new cultural and musical integration that can grant immortality. ChesnuTT's & the Roots' reach may exceed their grasp here, but they come close.