The 333 Best Pop Songs of the 2000s: #204

#204: "Ultimate" (2007) - Gogol Bordello

We leave Israel--though we're disappointed that Kaplan never told us if that chick singer had a sister-- and we now have one last stop to make on our journery. We fly over to Eastern Europe, where we disembark and catch a carriage to the Carpathian Mountains. We then discover that among the rugged peaks that crown down upon the Borgo Pass are found crumbling castles of a bygone age, and atop the tallest battlement of the foremost castle sits Count Gogola, known (and feared) by his countrymen as DJ Eugene Hutz the Fire-Bucket Player. The Count surrounds himself with a band of gypsies, many of whom are of Eastern-European descent.

We ascend to the Count's throneroom, and we meekly inquire of his music, based on a traditional gypsy folk music using traditional instruments but filtered through the contemporary style of punk. We ask the Count if he's using punk music as a gateway for followers to enter, luring the unbeknownst with a popular sound into the fantastic world of good-old authentic music. Real music. The Count laughs. He then bellows, "There were never any good old days. They are today. They are tomorrow. It's a stupid thing we say. Cursing tomorrow with sorrow." His stoic-faced band of minstrels then launch into...a traditional-sounding gypsy round. Then, as Count Gogol calls us all "a bunch of zeroes," we notice a lifeless figure in the corner, saxophone lying broken at his feet--it's Ori Kaplan! What's he doing here? What's happened to him? Before we can ask, our host and his company start playing and marching double-time, punk time, all around us, shouting, ready for attack, ready for battle.

We depart as quickly as we can, running down the halls, but we stumble over vermin, and we look up and notice the lofty timbers, that the walls around are bare, and we realize that we're no longer in Transylvania; in fact, we wonder if we ever were, for our immediate surroundings now look an awful lot like the Upper East Side of NYC. We must have been under a spell. We laugh at our foolishness, but we notice that the walls are echoing to our laughter as though the dead were there. We hear a voice in the distance shout, "Quaff a cup to the dead already, hooray for the next to die!"

That's it. We're outta here. We're staying in country from now on. We're crazy with it.

The 333 Best Pop Songs of the 2000s: #205

#205: "Bulgarian Chicks" (2005) - Balkan Beat Box featuring Vlada Tomava & M. Alexiava

We bid adieu to Africa, and we continue our northward trek, landing this time in Israel where Balkan Beat Box are performing. We ask co-founder Ori Kaplan what he's doing so far from his Brooklyn home, and he tells us that he and drummer (and co-founder) Tamir Muskat both hailed from here. We ask him Kaplan what his native brethren think of his tainting his Jewish heritage by creating this abomination of traditional, sacred klezmer by adding hip-hop and street beats and those Caribbean horns with the jazz arrangements. Kaplan told us that he wasn't defiling any sacred music style, that he was trying to create one of his own. Yeah, yeah, yeah, we said, whatever, but who's that hot chick singing, she's fabulous, especially the "Whee!" she exclaims at the end of the chorus, 'cause it's pure joy, an exhultant exclamation brought about by the mixture of the sacred and the profane. Kaplan told us that she just sings with us on occasion. On occasion? Oh, I understand. No women in the band, right? I certainly understand that, I told him, but I see where you're coming from, if only every-now-and-then some singer just happens into the studio, then she's not officially a member, so the missus doesn't get mad, and the lead singer doesn't get jealous that someone's stealing his thunder. I get it, I tell him. He looks at me, and he looks puzzled, and he asks, What, and I ask him if she's got a sister, not that I'm...I mean not that I want...I mean...you know. He just walked away, Kaplan did, and he began playing his saxophone, and the crowd went wild. Wild, I tell you.

The 333 Best Pop Songs of the 2000s: #206

#206: "Senegal Fast Food" (2004) - Amadou & Mariam

Next, on our journey around the globe, we travel north-northwest from South Africa to the Western African desert country of Mali, where we find the blind couple Amadou and Mariam playing Malian blues their way. Although they began their professional careers playing Malian blues in a somewhat traditional fashion, they've--since the beginning of this decade--begun to embrace the sounds of other cultures--Egyptian flutes, Caribbean and South American horns, percussion from all over the place, and Western guitar styles can all be found on Amadou & Mariam albums from the past nine years, the multicultural instruments enhancing their sound without robbing it of its identity. Amadou & Mariam are perhaps Africa's--the continent's--most progressive and open-minded band, yet their sounds still essentially remained theirs. Or it did until Manu Chao came along.

Chau--a superstar everywhere except America and (parts of) Canada--came over to visit in 2003, volunteered to take out the couple's trash as well as produce their album, and made himself quite at home, redecorating the house to reflect his tastes, inviting his own company over, ceding control only when he had to go to the john during the chorus, at which point Amadou and Mariam showed their guests the true soul of their abode underneath all the slick new wallpaper. The toilet then flushed (though it sounded like a harmonica), and out stepped Chao, ready to get the party started again. He stepped to where A & M were standing, ripped off a small section of wallpaper, handed it to them, and pointed at the place where the old met the new, and all the guests noticed marveled at the seeming lack of seams; they couldn't tell where the wallpaper started and where the rip occurred. The styles seemed to converge perfectly (if maybe a bit too perfectly), and A & M smiled at this new creation based around their original design, and they were even further delighted when Chao told everyone it was A & M's idea to begin with. Perhaps Chao wasn't such the scoundrel. Perhaps.

The 333 Best Pop Songs of the 2000s: #207

#207: "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa" (2007) - Vampire Weekend

We continue our trip around the globe, and this time we stop in South Africa where we listen to the sweet Soweto music of Paul Simon, singing the best melody he's written since he dropped the wonderful songs of Graceland on the world twenty-three years ago. He's not singing about the Mississippi Delta anymore, though; no, Simon has moved back up to New York, to the ivy-bedraped walls of Columbia, and he's prepped out, what with his girl and her Louis Vittoin bag, sitting on a blanket in her front yard, one leg crossed over the other at the ankle, with the Gwen Stacy white headband and her Benetton sweater, dreaming of romance with the singer. Simon takes his imagery straight from Fitzgerald, but he stops short of Fitzgerald's tragedies. The girl in question is Simon's own version of Daisy Buchanan, but here she's Daisy Fay, before the marriage to Tom, the American dream still alive, not yet corrupt.

She's not listening to jazz on the blanket, though; she's listening to reggaeton--specifically Peter Gabriel. Why him? 'Cause this time around, Paul Simon has let four Columbia grads front for him, and he drops Gabriel's name so as not to arouse suspicion, for there's no way a band's debut single--the B side of it ("Mansard Roof" was the A side) at that--could sound so convincingly like Paul Simon at his best (including not only this wonderful melody but also the cooing--among the most pleasurable, enjoyable cooing ever put to record--at the end of each chorus) and not be Paul Simon. Is there?

The 333 Best Pop Songs of the 2000s: #208

#208: "Postcards from Italy" (2006) - Beirut

The new year officially starts now (or, rather, second semester starts today for the missus and me, meaning we go back to work today after our two-weeks' vacation), and what better time than to take a fresh approach to life, to bring in something new and different, so I'll begin by bringing some Italian music straight from Beirut. Huh? Really? Well, not really. The music's American, and Beirut is the name of Zach Condon's band--and sometimes it's just the name Zach Condon gives himself.

No matter what he calls himself or his songs, Condon defintely brings a fresh--if not entirely new--approach to typical pop/indie music. In his best song, "Postcards from Italy," Condon gives us a ukulele, mandolin, a mariachi trumpet (as those three instruments represent the song's title...I guess), a martial snare, a spare piano, and some percussion instruments I can't quite identify. It's Fellini for the AmerIndie pop crowd; it's neo-Nito Rota; it's latter-day Paul Simon with a '30s crooner at the mic--and it's all a pose, but that's alright with me, 'cause it doesn't sound like a pose, just as CCR's music sounded like genuine Southern swamp rock even though the lot of them were San Francisco hippies, just as The Band's Americana was all written by a Canadian: the music sounds genuine, sounds authentic, do it shouldn't matter whether or not Condon really travelled through the Balkans and lived with gypsies. The music sounds like he did, like he recorded it live from a gypsy carriage, and it's lovely music--especially that trumpet--and when music sounds this beautiful and fresh and new, who cares where it originated. It's the New Year, folks. It's 2009. So face your fear with a little freedom. Me? I have no fear. I have only love.

Pigskin Prognostications, Divisional Playoffs

The Colts broke my heart, but the Cardinals are still in it, so we're optimistic over here. Time to put on the ol' Jake Plummer Cardinal jersey.

Titans 21, Ravens 17 - Kyle Vanden Bosch and Albert Haynesworth should be well rested, which should help keep the Tennessee D-line fresh throughout the game. However, Baltimore doesn't live off its offense (though it's better than it has been since its Super Bowl days), so Tennessee shutting 'em down shouldn't matter much. What will matter is how well Baltimore's D handles Tennessee's offense. Tennessee's offense is much more traditional than Miami's, so Baltimore should have an easy time planning against it; stopping it, however, is a different matter, as Titan RB Chris Johnson is the big home-run hitter that Miami didn't have. Like Adrian Peterson, he'll explode at least once for a touchdown (or for monster yardage). Unlike Minnesota, Tennessee's got an experienced quarterback who's been efficient throwing the ball, and--unlike Miami--Tennessee's got a quarterback that can launch it downfield and not underthrow his receivers (as much as I like Pennington, his underthrows killed the Fish today), and Collin's efficiency, experience, and rocket arm are why I like Tennessee in this one.

Panthers 27, Cardinals 24 - Carolina beat Arizona earlier this year, but it was close; I expect this one to be close, too. Carolina's DeShaun Williams' running style is somewhat similar to what Atlanta runs in that Williams thrives off the cut-back. If Arizona can manage to maintain the gaps against Williams--just like they did against Turner--while remembering to attack and pursue the other great Carolina RB (Jonathan Stewart, who's much more of cut-once bruiser), then they'll likely win. Of course, over the last half of the season, teams have been trying to stop the two-headed panther, and they haven't been very successful.

Giants 24, Eagles 17 - Eli Manning is much better than Tavaris Jackson. Much better.

Steelers 28, Chargers 14 - Let's see how San Diego fares against this defense.

Fifth Down, Wild-Card Weekend

Batted .500 this weekend. Good if you're a baseball player, but for football....

Falcons 30, Cardinals 20 - You know, if Arizona had any semblance of a running game, they could win this one, 'cause Atlanta can't stop the run well. Loss. Well, Arizona did find a running game, and their defense did an excellent job staying in their gaps and stopping Atlanta's cut-back runs. This Cardinal club that most said was the worst playoff team ever--looks like they could--could--make it all the way. Actual score: Cardinals 30, Falcons 24

Colts 34, Chargers 17 - I believe San Diego is going to find that Indianapolis's pass rushers are much better than any they've face these past four weeks. Loss. Peyton, oh Peyton, when you're back's against your own end zone, and you've got no backfield protection, and the opposition is blitzing, why--oh why--do you PUMP FAKE?!?! Mercy. Actual score: Chargers 23, Colts 17

Ravens 17, Dolphins 14 - Baltimore's going to be favored pretty highly, and I'm picking them, too, but I'm picking them because Flacco's the real deal, and his receivers have improved much throughout the year, not because of their vaunted defense (which, it should be said, should be vaunted). Miami's faced--and defeated--tough defenses this season. They keep things close: they run the ball well, and they play ball control, and they don't allow teams to notch big plays. Baltimore does, too, though, and their running game--and their D--has been better than Miami's throughout the season. Win. Miami did play ball control--they won time of possession pretty handily--well, but that was about it--offensively. Actual score: Ravens 27, Dolphins 9

Eagles 20, Vikings 10 - I think Tavaris Jackson will have a much tougher go of it than McNabb will. Much tougher. However...the Eagles don't have the toughest run defense in the league, and Minnesota sports the league's best runner, so, I think the Vikings will keep it close for awhile. Win. Minnesota kept it close for a long while, and their defense played an outstanding game, but Tavaris Jackson let 'em all down. All except the Eagles. Actual score: Eagles 26, Vikings 14.