Pickin’ Up the Pieces.

I first heard Fitz and the Tantrums’ “Moneygrabber” maybe two months ago on XM, but in the interim it seems to have exploded into the mainstream – in the past week alone I’ve heard it in Whole Foods and in a restaurant in Chandler (neither of which was playing an XM feed). It’s the best song on their debut? album Pickin’ Up The Pieces (iTunes) but also a good indication of the sound you’ll get on the rest of this short, tight, ten-song disc.

“Moneygrabber” is an energetic Motown-tinged three-minute burst of vitriol directed at a gold-digging former lover, driven by a rousing chorus that bookends two brief verses that are subdued in comparison. The contrast works because the verses are short and because the song opens with the chorus, putting that energy into your head and creating a calm-before-the-storm feel to each verse before the singer launches into the angry “this is your payback/moneygrabber” chorus. (It’s a bit lowbrow, but I laughed once I realized the second verse concluded with the singer’s statement that he doesn’t “think twice for the price of a cheap dime whore.” Don’t hold back, man.)

Where “Moneygrabber” is primarily a rock song with Motown fringes, the rest of the album presents more of a balance between the two elements (with hints of New Wave), with a few songs that wouldn’t be out of place on an oldies station. The first half of the album is mostly upbeat even when the lyrics aren’t – the soulful organ-heavy opener features the line “ooh what a lovely day/for breaking the chains of love” – and the songs are punchier, with nothing over 3:10 until track five. The very poppy “L.O.V.” features multiple tempo changes and some outstanding hooks in the vocal lines, particularly the melody of “all these words are the sweetest embrace,” one of many riffs on the album that reminded me not of a specific song from the 1980s but of the general feel of pop music from that era.

The back half of the album includes one outright power ballad, “Tighter,” which I could see crossing over and creating the kind of pop success that ends or derails a band’s career because they become associated with love songs (or, in this case, a lost-love song). But side two* is generally slower without becoming understated or subtle, and the album ends with a down-tempo song, “Rich Girls,” that manages to work in some black humor around whether it’s better to date rich girls (who’ll break your heart) or poor girls (who’ll take your money).

*Raise your glass if you’re old enough to understand what “side two” of an album means.

The weakness here, by far, is the quality of the lyrics on some of the lesser songs. “Dear Mr. President” is embarrassing, the one skippable song more for how dated and inane the words are (I think it’s supposed to be some kind of protest about the lack of funding for social services, but the preachiness over a stereotyped picture of American poverty makes me cringe), and the disc as a whole is full of the kind of empty lines that populate most pop records, with very little you haven’t heard before.

I can get over bad lyrics when the music is both catchy and different, and I can’t think of the last time I heard a group meld rock and old-school soul this well. (Little Caesar doesn’t cut it.) The production is clean and I liked how easily I could pick out individual instruments or the two voices when they’re singing in tandem. “Moneygrabber” is the Fitz song I’ll still be listening to for years, but the rest of the disc is wearing well even after a dozen times through it, a solid first effort that will likely prompt a host of imitators once the public catches on to it.

Incidentally, I see the Roots’ classic Things Fall Apart album is a $5 download this month on amazon. Doesn’t have the standout single but it’s one of the most important hip hop albums of the last twenty years, in my opinion.

Top 12 songs of 2010.

I won’t pretend that this is any sort of canonical list of the best songs of 2010, or even the best alternative songs of 2010; it’s merely a list of the best songs I heard, songs I liked and would recommend if your musical taste echoes mine at all. Feel free to throw your own suggestions in the comments below, as well as the usual complaints about how I’m biased against The National.

I limited the list to songs released in the 2010 calendar year, so Phoenix, which dominated alternative radio all spring and summer, doesn’t qualify, since Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix came out in May of 2009.

Linked song titles go to videos; links to amazon or iTunes to purchase come after the title.

12. Ted Leo & the Pharmacists – The Mighty Sparrow. (amazon/iTunes) When the cafe doors exploded, I … ran for cover. OK, the lyrics are a little peculiar, but I like the straight-edge post-punk energy behind this song even if Leo does sound like he’s on the verge of laryngitis.

11. Cut Copy – “Where I’m Going.” (Still a free download at Cut Copy’s site.) Straight-up early Britpop from an Australian band, with a shout-along chorus and the sort of neutered harmonies in the vocals that characterized a lot of lesser acts in the earlier movement. I suppose if I was truly playing music critic I’d either praise the song’s hook-laden simplicity or criticize its derivative music and tired lyrics. Whatever I think, I can’t credibly claim that I didn’t like the song. A lot.

10. Ra Ra Riot – “Boy.” (amazon/iTunes) I’m pulling for these guys even though I found their album pretty uneven, with “Boy” the high point. We don’t see enough bands trying to do something so different while still staying within the rough confines of alternative music – you can hear strong new wave influences here – and their use of unusual song structures and string instruments does them credit.

9. Limousines – “Internet Killed the Video Star.” (iTunes) I could see this song crossing over to the pop charts because the chorus is so catchy, and for a supposedly “experimental” band they’ve put out a very straightforward song here that merges rock and electronic elements in a song that purports to defend the guitar against the computer. By the way, kids – that drum machine ain’t got no soul.

8. Sleigh Bells – “Rill Rill.” (amazon/iTunes) The rest of the Sleigh Bells album is unlistenable, but this song’s relentless, almost sing-songy lyric hooked me from first listen and brought back memories of the 1990s trip-hop anthem “6 Underground.” Besides, there’s something enchanting about the (presumed) teenage-girl narrator breaking with stereotype when she answers the question, “Wonder what your boyfriend thinks about your braces?” with the defiant, “What about them? I’m all about them.”

7. Tame Impala – “Solitude Is Bliss.” (iTunes) Another album that didn’t quite live up to the first track I heard, but this psychedelic, stop-and-start ode to living inside one’s own head reached out of the radio and grabbed me. The bizarre video is inventive given what appears to have been a very low budget.

6. Belle & Sebastian – “Ghost of Rockschool.” (amazon/iTunes) A mournful, mystical track from the underrated and understated Scottish masters of ironic rock, not their best song (that would be the incomparable “The Boy With The Arab Strap”) but the best on their newest album. The hint of brass brought me back to one of my favorite bands of the ’90s, Animals that Swim, who never quite found an audience for their albums of original tracks that sounded like drinking songs.

5. Dead Weather – “Blue Blood Blues .” (amazon/iTunes) I was surprised to read that Jack White plays drums for Dead Weather when the meaty, heavy guitar riffs on this song sound so much like his recent style. It’s sludgy, almost Kyuss-esque with better production and cleaner lines.

4. Arcade Fire – “Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains).” (amazon/iTunes) On an album about our sprawling suburban society, where culture is found in the yogurt section of the local grocery store, “Sprawl II” provides the most withering vocal attack over a very new wave-influenced track laced with synthesizers. I don’t love the singer’s breathy, thin voice, but you can always drown that out by singing along.

3. Broken Bells – “The High Road.” (amazon/iTunes) So Danger Mouse is good for one knockout song per collaborative album, right? This one, with James Mercer from the Shins, features a two-tiered vocal married to a split instrumental track, with an acoustic guitar line behind the laconic verse switching to trip-hoppy electronic sounds as Mercer brings his voice up an octave. This also spawned my first (and still only) YTMND effort.

2. Arcade Fire – “City With No Children.” (amazon/iTunes) From the start, it was my favorite track on one of the best rock albums I’ve ever purchased, and while I know many of you disagree, I think that’s more a function of how strong and deep The Suburbs is; if half the songs on this list came from that album I doubt I would have received many complaints. The absence of typical percussion and the muted sound of the lead guitar in “City” paint a desolate backdrop for lyrics describing not just alienation but self-reflection and ecological decay.

1. Mumford & Sons – “Little Lion Man.” (amazon/iTunes) A perfect marriage of alt-rock/emo angst and English folk music, with a perfectly deployed four-letter word of Anglo-Saxon origin (six letters as a past participle). The entire album (just $5 at amazon yet again) is a marvel, from “Winter Winds” to “White Blank Page” to “Roll Away Your Stone,” but “Little Lion Man” had the strongest hook, and its crossover on to American radio and eventual gold certification was one of the biggest stories in music this year.

Music update for October.

As always, these are just songs I’ve been listening to lately, or recently heard for the first time, and may not actually be new songs.

Boy” – Ra Ra Riot (video)

Unusual to see a pop band combining synths, heavy bass, and actual string instruments, and the approach is a little hit or miss, but works well on “Boy,” which combines an unconventional structure, an active bass line, and a vocal that sounds like Morrissey trying to go up an octave for a whole that exceeds the sum of its parts. Their second single, “Too Dramatic,” veers a little too far into Erasure territory for me, but “Boy” has just enough muscle from that bass line to avoid that fate. (Speaking of Erasure, Yeasayer’s “O.N.E.” does have a lot of Vince Clarke in it, fun for a few nostalgic listens but without great staying power.)

Standing Next To Me” – Last Shadow Puppets (video)

There’s a pretty strong ’60s vibe to this song, from the chamber-pop arrangement in the background to the paired male vocals. I guess I really like Alex Turner’s work; I heard the song without realizing that it was the side project of the Arctic Monkeys’ lead singer. It’s impressive to hear something so clean and melodic from Turner, better known for the more aggressive (but still hook-laden) music from the Monkeys’ first two albums.

Blue Blood Blues” – Dead Weather (video)

Speaking of side projects, here’s Jack White’s heavy, grungy blues-rock act Dead Weather, now on their second album. It’s reminiscent of early Zeppelin, or some of the album tracks from later in their career, the kind of music I think Jimmy Page always wanted to play but that was subjugated to more commercial considerations. (I mean, “Fool in the Rain” is an all-time classic, but doesn’t sound much like Led Zeppelin.) Anyway, “Blue Blood Blues” has the sort of huge guitar riffs I expect from White’s heavier work, except that I’m pretty sure he plays drums on the track. Go figure.

I feel like side projects and similar collaborations have finally come back in vogue after twenty-plus years where they were absent from the music scene, presumably for legal reasons. (If something sucks in the entertainment world, blame the lawyers. It’s probably their fault.) I’m hearing more groups like these last two and more covers of contemporary songs, both things that were fairly common in the late ’60s and early ’70s and led to a fairly fertile period in American and British rock music. I hope it doesn’t fall out of fashion again, and that the barristers don’t catch on to what’s happening.

Islands” – the xx (video)

So I got this album right after the xx won the Mercury Prize, and even if I can get past the extremely muted production, I just don’t see this music as worthy of such a high honor. It’s minimalist, but that’s been done before, and done better. It’s despairing and even lonely, but that’s been done before, and done better. It’s not bad music, certainly better than 90% of what’s out there, but I don’t hear anything wildly new or inventive here. “Islands” is the standout track to me, the one I’d choose to listen to again, with more texture than most of the songs on the album, and it has one of the most inventive videos I’ve seen in ages.

The Mighty Sparrow” – Ted Leo & the Pharmacists (video)

Grabs you right from the opening line – “When the cafe doors exploded” – and … well, it does sort of let go in the middle, but the song is short and punchy with a driving drum-and-bass line that keeps the energy level up. You can hear some influence from early punk stalwarts Fugazi and Minor Threat. It wouldn’t hurt ol’ Teddy to try some new clothing stores, though.

Barricade” – Interpol (video)

A real disappointment; I liked a lot of Interpol’s earlier singles, especially “Slow Hands,” which drove them as deep into Joy Division territory as any band has gone, but “Barricade” feels choppy and discordant where their best singles have all been surprisingly melodic under the histrionic vocal style.

Chelsea Dagger” – Fratellis (video)

Released in 2006, the year that was something of a black hole for my music awareness, this is the sort of snotty uptempo British rock song of which I can’t seem to get enough, and reminds me strongly of Harvey Danger’s “Flagpole Sitta.” Apparently “Chelsea Dagger” has become a popular song at football (i.e., soccer) matches across Europe, which makes sense since it has the feel of a modern drinking song. I’m not sure why the lead singer is trying to look like Jack White in the video, though.

Where I’m Going” – Cut Copy

This is straight-up early Britpop, done over by a popular Australian group who must have been raised on Blur, James, and Belle & Sebastian. I didn’t stand a chance against this one. You can get the track for free if you click on the link in the song title, or just click here.

A More Perfect Union” – Titus Andronicus (video)

The video edit runs just 3:35, but at seven minutes the album version eventually devolves into a bloated mess. The beginning has some brilliant lyrics combining references to baseball, New England geography, and popular music, mentioning the Fung Wah bus and including lines like “And when I stand tonight, ‘neath the lights of the Fenway/Will I not yell like hell for the glory of the Newark Bears?” and “And I never let the Merritt Parkway magnetize me no more.” The song leads off their newest album, The Monitor, which I found absolutely wearing for its unrelenting cynicism. Yes, I said that.

Old Fangs” – Black Mountain (video)

I joked on Twitter that this song reminded me of when I was at Woodstock, and at least two followers asked me if I was indeed there. (The answer is no, for what I presume is an obvious reason.) It’s psychedelic rock but in the context of heavy stoner rock; any song with a Hammond organ is going to bring late ’60s/early ’70s psychedlia to mind. It also pulls the trick of sounding much longer than it is, perhaps the result of my mind being trained to think of songs in this vein lasting a good 12 to 15 minutes.

Arcade Fire’s The Suburbs.

I wouldn’t have characterized myself as a huge Arcade Fire fan before last week – I’d heard several singles, liked most of them, but never ran out to download one of their albums or thought of them as one of my favorite artists. When Amazon.com ran a $3.99 promotion on mp3 downloads of their new album, The Suburbs (now $7.99), I bought it just on the assumption that there would be four or five songs worth having, more than justifying the cost. As it turns out, the album blew away my modest expectations, even with some unevenness, a 64-minute story of regret and frustrated hopes set to a pastiche of references and nods to new wave, post-punk, and alternative music from the 1980s.

After an introductory track that sent me for the fast-forward button, “Ready to Start” showed the Arcade Fire I know from their best prior singles, such as “Keep the Car Running” or “Neighborhood #3 (Power Out),” a foot-stomper with a driving bass line behind an understated vocal that mixes the yearning for an independent artistic life in a culture that seems (in Win Butler’s eyes) to reward the corporate life instead. “Empty Room” starts with a crazy violin intro – which continues behind the wave of guitars, creating an effect that reminded me of My Bloody Valentine, but without the latter’s excessive distortion; both that song and “Month of May” give the album its highest-energy moments to sustain the listener through the more subtle (and occasionally soporific) songs that dig more deeply into the decline of culture in the suburban sprawl.

The slower-tempo tricks are more of a mixed bag, but offer the album’s best overall songwriting. “Half Light II (No Celebration)” calls to mind New Order, or even Joy Division, with an anthemic lament with a lush arrangement behind dark, defeated vocals about the loss of nature and open space, while “Modern Man” channels Roxy Music, although the latter’s cliched moaning about the people in line behind him “can’t understand” typifies the song’s lack of concrete imagery.

“Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)” is the final full track (there’s a 90-second reprise of the opening song after it), and one of the most devastatingly complete songs on the record, building to a crescendo that never quite arrives while growing into a sprawling (pun intended) homage to the classic new wave/synth-pop songs of the mid-1980s. I don’t care for Regine Chassagne’s voice, but her delivery of the song’s critique of the sprawl of the song’s title, that uniquely American creation of suburbs that go on forever, with “dead shopping malls” that “rise like mountains beyond mountains,” bringing excesses of light (I keep picturing car dealerships at night, sucking down energy to light up football fields of metal boxes) but lacking the edginess or openness of urban culture.

But the song I keep coming back to again and again is the spare, slightly uptempo yet haunting “City with No Children,” the title line itself (“Feel like I’ve been living in/a city with no children in it”) evoking images of deathly quiet, or even destruction – it brought to my mind the scene from The Road where they see “the little boy” in the window of a building in an otherwise abandoned city. The hand-claps stand in place of almost all typical percussion, while the predominant guitar riff is dampened, as if it was played through a pillow, creating a stunning contrast between the song’s pace and its melancholy production.

The Suburbs is far from a perfect album – there are too many “skip” tracks for me to slap an 80 on it, including the dirge-like “Wasted Hours,” “The Suburbs,” and “Sprawl I (Flatland),” and the slow rocker “Rococo,” with a staccato vocal line I just found irritating – but it’s far more than the standard three-singles-and-some-filler album template, a style that should be long dead in an era where the album is finally unbundled for consumers to purchase individual tracks. It’s the kind of album that would earn Grammy nominations if the Grammy Awards weren’t still based on wins, saves, and RBI.

Amazon.com has another 1000 albums available for $5 apiece as mp3 downloads through the end of the month. Two I’ll recommend: Mumford and Sons’ Sigh No More, which I reviewed (glowingly) back in April; and Radiohead’s OK Computer, one of the five or ten best albums in the history of rock.

Another music update.

I’ll be filing reaction pieces all day as we learn about trades (but only when we know all the parts). Keep an eye on my twitter feed for links to articles as they go up.

I’m not sure if my tastes are narrowing as I get older, or if there really just isn’t as much great new music coming out now as there was five to ten years ago, but I’m definitely not spending as much on music as I did early in the last decade. Here are ten songs I’ve heard this year – not all are new releases, and one is from 2006 – that are in heavy rotation for me at the moment.

Manchester Orchestra – “I’ve Got Friends

At the Team USA trials in July and the Tournament of Stars before that, both held at the USA Baseball complex in Cary, the music played during BP and between innings was mostly atrocious, including crap like the Veronicas’ “Untouched” and OneRepublic’s “All the Right Moves,” which includes the line “All the right friends in all the wrong places.” Of course, that just put me in mind to hear Manchester Orchestra’s similarly-worded song, which has the chorus “I’ve got friends in all the right places/I know what they want, and I know they don’t want me to stay.” There’s a tension in the music and vocal style that matches the desperation of the lyrics, and it’s the best new (to me, that is – it’s from 2009) song I’ve heard all year.

Tame Impala – “Solitude is Bliss”

Only available on iTunes right now, as far as I can tell. It’s an Australian trio with a psychedelic edge to most of their songs, but of what I’ve heard from them, this is the one track with a real hook that made me want to hear it again. The layered production hides a minimal instrumental approach, and the idiotically-simple guitar riff in the chorus gains a new currency from effects that make it sound like it’s enveloping your head. The video is by turns comical and disturbing – and doesn’t the lead singer remind you of Dave Grohl?

Features – “Lions

Reminds me of a cross between the Arctic Monkeys (first album) and the Black Keys, combining the shout-along chorus of the former with slower, sly verses where the singer is apologizing for something … without really apologizing.

Neon Trees – “Animal

I have a feeling I’m going to be sick of this song in about six months, as it’s already crossing over, and I’m generally not a fan of this slightly nasal style of vocals, but it’s a pretty strong pop-alternative track if you can get past the cheesy lyrics.

Broken Bells – “The High Road

I’m pretty sure that for my debut album I’m going to have to work with Danger Mouse. I do love the lines “The dawn to end all nights/That’s all we hoped it was,” with the unspoken fear that it’s something a lot worse, and the way James Mercer sings in two different voices that seem like they couldn’t have come from the same person.

Pinback – “From Nothing to Nowhere” (right-click to download the song free from their official site)

From 2007, but I first heard it the weekend I went to see Stephen Strasburg pitch in Altoona in early April. Pinback’s music is mostly understated emo, not exactly my style, but “From Nothing to Nowhere” has some velocity to it that’s missing from other songs I’ve heard by the group, making it a great driving song. I’m still skeptical of the lyrics I found online for this song – it sounds like he’s saying “who sung my lyric?” rather than the bizarre “co-sign my letter” listed on all the lyrics sites. The visual effects behind the band in the official video elevate it beyond the usual mailed-in band-playing-song clip. I have no idea why Rob Crow wanted to look like the Unabomber without his hoodie, though.

Alkaline Trio – “Help Me

Power-pop is kind of a lost art right now, and this wouldn’t stand up to the 1990s stars of the genre like Sugar, Jellyfish, or Sloan, but there’s something about Matt Skiba’s singing on this track that got stuck in my head, even though the lyrics are nothing special. I did like it better when I thought I caught the word “jejune” in the line right before the chorus, even though I knew that was about as likely as a Jason Tyner shot to the upper deck.

Muse – “Supermassive Black Hole

This song should have been on my top songs of the 2000s – a list I’m going to have to revise at some point – but it came out right three weeks after I quit the Blue Jays to join ESPN … and four weeks after I became a father. I was oblivious to just about anything that happened that summer, whether news or popular culture or non-baseball sport, so this song, an obvious homage to vintage Prince, escaped my notice, and I didn’t hear it until this spring. I’m sure Muse fans would disagree, but this is the best song I’ve heard from them since their debut album, with the incomparable “Sunburn” and “Muscle Museum,” purposefully over-the-top without the derivative feel that’s ruined a lot of their recent work for me, featuring a slithering guitar riff behind a falsetto vocal that will call to mind the Purple One at his peak.

Arctic Monkeys – “From The Ritz To The Rubble

The second-best song off their 2006 debut album, when they were still ultimately a punk band with intellectual stylings and the appropriate sneer the critics wanted to see. The brief up-to-11 guitar lick leading into what you might call the chorus – the song defies conventional structures – grabs you up front, but the way Alex Turner turns shouted lyrics into another instrument is what hooked me, and how could you not like a song that rhymes “this one’s a scary’un” with “totalitarian?”

Cold Cave – “Love Comes Close

This is so close to early ’80s new wave that it almost feels like parody – is it Joy Division? Camouflage? Early Ministry? I’m not in love with the vocal style – it reminds me of the guy from The National – but Cold Cave just nailed that new wave/synth-pop sound in a way that would fit perfectly on a compilation CD from that era.

Mumford and Sons’ Sigh No More.

My first stab at the top 100 prospects for this year’s draft is now live for Insiders, with a companion piece breaking down the top five prospects at each position.

I discovered Mumford and Sons quite by accident, hearing “Little Lion Man” on WFNX while driving to a nearby Staples last Sunday, and using Shazam on my Droid to get the artist/song info, thinking maybe it was an Irish-influenced band along the lines of Flogging Molly. On the recommendations of several followers on Twitter, I downloaded the album (just $8 on amazon), and discovered – for myself, that is – a remarkable new album that, while imperfect, seems to be a harbinger of great things to come.

Sigh No More comprises twelve songs in three rough categories: fast songs, slow songs, or slow-then-fast songs. The entirely-slow songs came off as too precious, especially with hypersensitive recording that captures little cracks in Mumford’s voice or the scraping of fingers against acoustic guitar strings, but the songs that find the band, led by singer Marcus Mumford, picking up the pace all worked, with some sounding like back-country hoedowns while others bringing to mind pints raised in the air (and sloshing on the floor) as the bar sings along. They use tempo changes effectively and go from sparse instrumentation to lush within the span of a single song, tricks that only felt like tricks when the underlying music wasn’t strong enough to support it.

“Little Lion Man” is far and away the best song on the album, opening with a staccato guitar pattern and incorporating hints of bluegrass, folk, and even jug-band country as it moves through verse and chorus, with Mumford’s wailing (in a good way) over the bridge leading into a final, devastating pair of choruses, the latter a cappella, that lay bare the singer’s shame at his (unstated) actions and the implications for his character as a whole. The group’s harmonies, strong all over the album, are razor-sharp here, and the track’s production is crisp and clean, letting the music take center stage without some of those minor frills that mar later songs on the disc. If you’re going to start with Mumford and Sons, start with this song.

On the whole, the disc represents a marriage of British/Irish folk music as it might be played in a blue-collar pub, but with the addition of a bluegrass-inflected banjo and three- and four-part harmonies that you’ll feel in your bones. The second-best track on the disc, “Winter Winds,” features a brass backing behind the repeated couplet “And my head told my heart…” that’s reminiscent of the best of Animals That Swim, a British band that married brilliant stories with music I could only describe as tunes to which you should get drunk. I heard hints of AWS all over this record, but this track in particular is more like a brilliant cover of a song the earlier band never actually wrote. The one slow-ish track that works, the seething “White Blank Page,” gets needed roughness when Mumford accentuates the natural rasp in his voice, while the title track starts slow and accelerates to the point where the track’s end may make you forget where you begun.

Mumford and Sons strive to offer intelligent lyrics, and there are flashes of that all over the disc, but if held to that higher standard it falls short, with too many cute phrases and platitudes and overreliance on discussion of the metaphorical soul. Mumford speaks of the soul not in a spiritual or transcendent sense, but as some critical part of our being that must be protected, kept free, or nourished, but these mentions are all vague and ultimately empty. If someone tells you “your soul you must keep totally free,” that sounds great, but what exactly does that mean? They’d do well to replace much of this superficial profundity and delve into the imagery that sets apart truly great lyrics and elevates them into (or perhaps just near) the realm of poetry.

“Roll Away Your Stone” exemplifies what’s right and wrong with the album. It begins with a soft, lilting pattern that morphs into a bluegrass stomp while maintaining the core melody, transitions into a down-tempo chorus with their standard soaring harmony, and finishes with a quiet couplet of just Mumford’s voice over guitar. It’s effective and rousing, and there are hints of lyrical greatness within, yet that promise remains unfulfilled when Mumford misses a chance to extend a metaphor throughout the song. The one image in the opening line, “Roll away your stone and I’ll roll away mine,” never recurs, even with an ideal spot in the closing lines: “And you, you’ve gone too far this time/You have neither reason nor rhyme/With which to take this soul that is so rightfully mine.” Substitute “stone” for “soul” and you’ve opened a world of possible interpretations, not to mention the amusing image of Mumford fiercely protecting a rock (or pebble) that someone is trying to snatch.

Returning, again, to the standout “Little Lion Man,” the lyrics – a despairing offset to the rapid bluegrass-inflected music – are more advanced than those on the remainder of the album, from the image of the title (a nod to the Cowardly Lion?) to the admonition to “learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck” to, by far, the most effective use of the word “fuck” in a popular music song since Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer,” with a far less crude connotation. If Mumford and Sons can craft a song like this, they can craft a half-dozen or more, and in that skill lies the potential for a tremendous album, one that will do more than reach the top of Billboard‘s folk charts.

I was originally going to compare Sigh No More to Colby Rasmus’ 2009 season, where the performance was littered with the promise of great things to come, but I think Brett Anderson’s 2009 would be more apt, as Sigh is still a terrific album despite its hiccups and flaws, one I’ve listened to repeatedly over the last week not because I needed to do so to write about it, but because five or six of its songs have become lodged in my head to the point where I feel driven to play them again and again.

Top 200 rock songs of the 1990s.

I promised you a list of my 100 favorite rock songs from the 1990s, but after a few weeks of listing and ranking tracks I realized I couldn’t get away with fewer than 150 … which became 162 (a good baseball number, at least) … which became 175 … and finally stopped at 200, which still left a few good songs* on the outside.

* Those would include the Charlatans UK’s “Impossible,” Stereophonics’ “Local Boy in the Photograph” and “Just Lookin’,” Dodgy’s “Staying Out for the Summer,” Soul Coughing’s “$300,” Lenny Kravitz’s “Let Love Rule,” Offspring’s “Come Out and Play (Keep ‘Em Separated),” and Nirvana’s “Man Who Sold the World,” among others.

Just like the previous list for the 2000s, this is a ranking of personal preference, not an objective measure of chart performance. If I don’t like a song, it ain’t here. There’s no rap or hip-hop because I didn’t want the list to run to 250 or 300 tracks, at which point I probably would never have finished it.

All links go to amazon.com’s MP3 downloads, so if a song is unlinked, it’s not available for individual purchase, and I’m not going to suggest to anyone that they buy a whole album to get one song, since those days should be firmly behind us by now.

The last list brought a number of new readers to the site, so if you’re one of them: Welcome. If you choose to comment, I moderate the site, so new users’ comments don’t appear until I’ve cleared them from the queue.

200. Harvey Danger – “Flagpole Sitta.” The sneering slacker anthem for the second half of the decade. Overplayed by a factor of 300% in “retro” music blocks on alternative stations.

199. Auteurs – “Everything You Say Will Destroy You.” Truer words were never spoken.

198. Siouxsie and the Banshees – “Kiss Them For Me.” An ode to Jayne Mansfield and an unusually restrained song for the Banshees. It always cracked me up that Siouxsie Sioux’s first TV appearances was in the background of the infamous Sex Pistols appearance on Bill Grundy’s talk show.

197. The Descendents – “I’m The One.” This song should probably be higher up the list, but I was just about done with the ranking when I realized I’d forgotten it entirely. Definitely among the best punk-revival songs of its era, without the excess polish of Green Day, the Offspring, or even Bad Religion.

196. Sleeper – “Nice Guy Eddie.” Apparently this song is about Reservoir Dogs, which was (and is) lost on me, but it’s a great Britpop song with a few clever lines, but it’s elevated by the marriage of its lyrics and its music – there’s nothing special about the line “It may sound funny but it wasn’t supposed to,” but the specific way Louise Wener (who was kinda hot) sang it, coupled with the lines that came before, made the line something more. And Wener was, in fact, pretty clever, commenting on how the Boo Radleys received better reviews in the press because their members “look[ed] like journalists.”

195. Filter – “Take A Picture.” Filter had two moments of greatness. This was the lesser one.

194. Blur – “Country House.” The song that rhymed Balzac with Prozac. Win.

193. Ned’s Atomic Dustbin – “Kill Your Television.” Perhaps counterproductive advice given my current job.

192. Collective Soul – “Heavy.” Well, heavy for Collective Soul, at least.

191. Muse – “Muscle Museum.” From Wikipedia, which we know is never wrong: “It was named “Muscle Museum” when the band couldn’t think of a name for the song so they looked ‘Muse’ up in the dictionary, picking the words immediately before and after. “

190. White Zombie – “More Human Than Human.” White Zombie went from noise-rock band to thrash band to heavy-metal-joke band, finding not just commercial success in the last phase but a Grammy nomination for the regrettable “Thunder Kiss ’65.” “More Human Than Human” also earned a Grammy nomination, but it’s a far better, tighter song than its predecessor.

189. Cast – “Sandstorm.” I actually heard this song in a Home Depot once, which is one more time than I ever heard it on a U.S. radio station, although I believe I later caught “Beat Mama” on WFNX. Cast was founded by the bassist from alternative darlings The La’s and pushed out a number of power-pop singles worth checking out, a list that also includes “Alright” and “Fine Time.”

188. Urge Overkill – “Sister Havana.” The Neil Diamond cover was the worst thing that could have happened to these guys, as it tanked their career just as they were getting interesting.

187. Bush – “The Chemicals Between Us.” Even a crappy faux-grunge act occasionally gets it right, in this case by the addition of some electronic elements and added layering in production.

186. These Animal Men – “Empire Building.” Let’s get a hotel room in Paris/With that French girlfriend that volunteered to share us.

185. Smashing Pumpkins – “Muzzle.” Like a lost track from Siamese Dream, harkening back even to Gish.

184. Stereophonics – “The Bartender And The Thief.” I originally thought I’d have more Stereophonics on this list, but while I like a good number of their songs, it’s more a matter of liking their sound than finding individual songs so compelling. This fast-paced track presaged their biggest hit, “Dakota,” a decade later.

183. Jane’s Addiction – “Stop.” I would have had this much higher had it not been for the tempo-shattering bridge in the middle of the song (“hurrah”), without which the track would have been a three-minute adrenaline rush for the ages.

182. Travis – “Driftwood.” I’m not sure it’s a better song than “Writing to Reach You,” but “Driftwood” is one of those songs I always seem to play when I find time to pick up the guitar, so here it is.

181. The Breeders – “Cannonball.” I understand that MTV exposure helped make this song a hit, but I would have preferred it if I’d never seen the snotty video, even more obnoxious than the Pixies’ video for “Here Comes Your Man.” But good luck getting the song out of your head, inane lyrics and all.

180. Ocean Colour Scene – “The Riverboat Song.” More than their standard blues-rock hybrid, “Riverboat” has a menacing feel that wasn’t present in some of their other top songs, like “The Day We Caught the Train.”

179. Cracker – “Low.” Overrated because of the then-scandalous reference to “being stoned.” I’ll give them a few bonus points for David Lowery and Johnny Hickman’s cover of “Pictures of Matchstick Men” as part of Camper Van Beethoven.

178. Radiohead – “The Bends.” Title track from an album that would have been the best of most bands’ careers … but not theirs.

177. Pure – “Tall Grass.” Pure was a Canadian band that marketers tried to attach to the Seattle train with no success, but they were more musical dilettantes, dabbling in psychedelic rock, mixing in a brass line, or writing venomous semi-acoustic tracks like this one. “Greed,” “Anna,” and “Laughing Like a Fiend” were also standouts from their three albums and handful of EPs.

176. The Cure – “High.” I’m a Disintegration guy when it comes to the Cure, but “High” remains the highlight of their career since that breakthrough disc, an airy, bittersweet love song, as opposed to the twee-pop money-grab of “Friday I’m in Love.”

175. Days of the New – “Enemy.” The preening, the look, the vocal style that was half Vedder and half Cornell … I can see why Days of the New were lightly regarded after their first album, although “Touch, Peel, and Stand” has its merits. But “Enemy,” from their second album, represented a real expansion of their sound, with electronic elements and a different kind of song structure that, unfortunately, didn’t find an audience.

174. The Boo Radleys – “C’mon Kids.” And fuck the ones/who tell you that life/is merely the time before dying. Yeah! Unfortunately this one doesn’t appear to be available for download (at least in the U.S., which annoys me to no end), but they did have another hit with the sunnier, poppier “Wake Up Boo!.”

173. Stereophonics – “A Thousand Trees.” The lyrics here could be about anything and I’d still have it on the list, but as it turns out they tell a good story of how one damaging rumor can destroy someone’s life.

172. Screaming Trees – “Shadow Of The Season.” The very simple guitar riff that opens the song, followed by a Bonham-esque drum line, grabs your attention, and Mark Lonegan’s distinctive baritone ushers you in. How this album, Sweet Oblivion, which put another song higher up this list, didn’t go multi-platinum is beyond me.

171. The Black Crowes – “Remedy.” Their first album was the big seller, but it didn’t have a song to match “Remedy,” which is what Oasis would have produced if they’d been a southern blues-rock act, a dense, over-the-top, relentless track that borrows heavily from its influences without sounding derivative.

170. James – “I Know What I’m Here For.” James specialized in songs that were simultaneously upbeat but with lyrics filled with doubt or wistful longings; this almost bouncy song brings unusually confident lyrics that make it sound more like an anthem.

169. Alice in Chains – “Them Bones.” Usually rock songs with odd time signatures are just masturbatory exercises, but the odd meters and changes between them in this song give it an unbalanced feel that adds to the sense of doom in the lyrics.

168. Soundgarden – “Burden In My Hand.” I remember reading an interview with Chris Cornell in Newsday in the early 1990s where he talked about his lyrical influences as Kafka, Camus, and Celine. That was evident on Badmotorfinger, but he simplified his approach greatly on Soundgarden’s final two albums. This song was one exception, as I can certainly see Camus’ The Stranger in here.

167. Beck – “Where It’s At.” When this song was current, shortly after my wife and I got married, my in-laws were visiting for the weekend and we were driving to dinner somewhere while I had WFNX on, playing this song, obviously, or I wouldn’t be using it as the comment here. There’s a shrill beeping behind the chorus, spurring my mother-in-law to chime in from the back seat, “This song is really annoying.” She’s never really gotten Beck, I have to say.

166. Metallica – “Enter Sandman.” If you listen closely around the 2:43 mark, yYou can actually hear the death of thrash metal in this song. (And yes, I’ve used a variation of this joke before.) It’s a fun song to play on the guitar, but should Metallica songs actually be fun to play? How could the band that produced “Master of Puppets” or “Blackened” or “Ride the Lightning” produce this, the metal equivalent of a pop song? I’m so conflicted.

165. Sting – “Mad About You.” Outside of Prince, was there a more important single artist in rock music from, say, 1975 to 1995 – more or less my formative years as a music fan – than Sting? The Police were and remain criminally underrated by the public, although I remember them being critical darlings, and Sting’s early solo career saw him integrating multiple styles of music across tracks on a single album. Unfortunately, The Soul Cages was the end of Sting as an adventurous solo artist and the beginning of his career as an adult contemporary artist, with just one standout track for me, this acoustic ballad with lyrics rife with literary allusions.

164. Skid Row – “Monkey Business.” Skid Row’s career arc fascinates me, because I’m pretty sure that after their first album, they were absolutely doomed even if they’d followed it up with a disc that combined the best aspects of Zeppelin IV, Revolver, and Love. They were initially marketed as a hair-metal act, and after their first album spawned two crappy ballads as hits (“18 and Life” and “I Remember You”), their audience comprised a ton of teenage girls and anyone seriously into metal or rock looked on them as the critical equivalent of Warrant or Britny Fox. As it turned out, Skid Row then put out a relatively sophisticated metal album in Slave to the Grind, led by this track, which sported a surprising combination of technical guitar work, vocal gymnastics, and memorable hooks. The album’s title track is also worth checking out, and it wouldn’t have been out of place on Metallica’s black album.

163. Prince – “7.” I go back and forth on this song as much as I do on any Prince track – sometimes I think it’s brilliant, sometimes I think it’s ridiculous.

162. Stone Temple Pilots – “Vasoline.” The lyrics were on the dumb side, but it’s built on a guitar riff that burrows into your brain, and they kept the song short and tight rather than beat that riff into the ground.

161. Placebo – “Pure Morning.” A friend in need’s a friend indeed/A friend with weed is better.

160. Beastie Boys – “Sure Shot.” I’m a big Paul’s Boutique guy – that has to be one of the five most important albums of the last 30 years – but never got quite as into the Beastie Boys’ more alternative-oriented music after that album, which wasn’t a commercial success but has become a major hip-hop classic, one that won’t likely be repeated or approached because of the royalties issues around such heavy sampling. “Sure Shot” is one of the more straight-up rap songs I heard from the Boys in the ’90s, so it’s well above bigger hits like “Intergalactic” for me.

159. Blink 182 – “What’s My Age Again??” I originally thought this song’s lyrics were stupid, along the lines of everything else I’d heard from them, but after hearing it a dozen times, I caught it on WFNX while driving down Fresh Pond Parkway and reinterpreted the song as an ode not to immaturity but to retaining a sense of the frivolous in the face of the seriousness of adult life – almost a wistful look at youth against time’s inexorable pull into middle age and its attendant responsibilities. Or maybe it’s just a song about being a jerk.

158. Gin Blossoms – “Hey Jealousy.” So the guy who wrote their two best songs suffered from severe depression and alcoholism, so the band fired him, after which they never put out a song half this good … and the poor guy killed himself. That worked out well for everyone. Always liked the line “the past is gone but something might be found to take its place” – I think we lost a potentially plus rock lyricist here.

157. The Verve – “Bitter Sweet Symphony.” Love the video. Can’t say I’m all that impressed by the Rolling Stones’ actions (or their lawyers’), and I say that as someone who generally defends the rights of IP holders.

156. Throwing Muses – “Bright Yellow Gun.” The most rock-infused song from a promising but generally uneven band. And I think I need a little poison.

155. Dinosaur Jr. – “Feel The Pain.” Hated it when it first came out, probably because of J. Mascis’ laconic delivery. I’m a fan now, although it took another Dinosaur Jr. song (much higher up this list) to convert me.

154. Beck – “Sexx Laws.” We have sex laws? Or maybe he really meant sexx laws, which aren’t about sex at all. I don’t really know. But this song works for me as the successful second attempt at what he was going for with “New Pollution.”

153. Pulp – “Common People.” One of the best – and wittiest – stories I’ve ever heard told in any song in any genre, about rich kids who think it’s fun to act poor. (The DC-area band emmet swimming hit on the same theme in their song “Arlington:” “they all have a motto/be rich dress poor.”)

152. Stereo MCs – “Connected.” Could have gone with “Step It Up” as well, but “Connected” has a little more of a trance or trip-hop feel, making its crossover more surprising and ultimately more important.

151. Cardigans – “My Favourite Game.” Better known for the saccharine “Lovefool,” but I prefer this straight-up rocker with its excellent use of the wah-wah pedal and Wild-at-Heart-like video.

150. Ash – “Kung Fu.” Given how many fake-punk bands broke through in the U.S., I’ve always been surprised that Ash found no success here; they were roughly contemporaries of Green Day but wrote better songs with more raw energy and less big-record-label production.

149. Radiohead – “Electioneering.” Album track from one of the three or four best discs of the ’90s.

148. Ruby – “Tiny Meat.” Minor hit on alternative radio that defies concise description. It’s new-wave minimalism, sounding like a girl, a guitar, and a DJ.

147. The KLF – “3 AM Eternal.” They’re justified … and they’re ancient. They were also wackos who deleted their entire back catalogue, so the song is permanently out of print.

146. Soul Coughing – “Casiotone Nation.” The 5% nation of lumps in my oatmeal. “Is Chicago Is Not Chicago,” from the same album, is almost as good.

145. Jesus & Mary Chain – “Head On.” I hate the Pixies cover of this.

144. Soup Dragons – “I’m Free.” Liked it more before AT&T drove it into the ground in commercials a few years ago.

143. Semisonic – “Closing Time.” First heard them via “Down in Flames,” from their debut album. I remember before their second album came out reading a business proposal from someone looking to start a record label for music aimed at middle-aged listeners. The writer made a point of arguing that Semisonic was destined to fail. I hope he found other work.

142. Alice in Chains – “I Stay Away.” I loved AiC’s acoustic stuff – they actually did some great harmonies, and the Sap EP had three really strong songs on it as well. I’ve heard the most recent album with Staley’s replacement, and they’re just not the same band.

141. Blind Melon – “Dear Ol’ Dad.” These guys were a lot more than just “No Rain,” with a sort of funk/jam band style that reminded me of the way the Red Hot Chili Peppers sounded before “Under the Bridge” – not the same hard faux-funk but the same energy and barely-contained-mess ethos.

140. Cake – “The Distance.” Unfortunately they have been re-recording this song for the last decade, and it gets worse every time.

139. Milla – “Gentlemen Who Fell.” That’s Milla Jovovich, who has had a hell of a career jumping from modeling to music to acting to fashion. This has to be one of the five weirdest songs on the list from her on-and-off falsetto to the hints of European folk music interspersed with riffs from an electric guitar.

138. Salt – “Bluster.” Worst band I have ever seen live; the singer introduced every song by saying “This is a rock song.” And it was loud. But this one’s okay.

137. Sublime – “What I Got.” I was never wild about these guys – I’ll flip the station if any of their other hits comes on – but this one was a lot tighter and used ska as an accent, as opposed to their other attempts to just be another crappy pseudo-ska band comprising white kids from the suburbs of California. (Seriously, I’m sorry that the guy is dead, but having a dead lead singer doesn’t make the music somehow better in retrospect.)

136. Blur – “Chemical World.” It’s very cheap.

135. David Gray – “Babylon.” Originally released in 1999, then re-released in 2000. Gray seems to have a cult following, but while I think he has a great, distinctive voice, this is the only song of his that I ever wanted to hear twice.

134. Alice in Chains – “Man In The Box.” Had more of an impact on me when I first heard it than it would today; at the time, it was kind of like a punch in the jaw, like an angry, sludgy dirge. And the video was creepy.

133. Oasis – “Acquiesce.” A B-side, probably the only one on this ranking. Another Oasis B-side, “Rocking Chair,” was also on the original list of about 240 songs.

132. Charlatans – “Just When You’re Thinkin’ Things Over.” One of my favorite bands of the ’90s, even though their lead singer can’t sing a lick without a producer’s help. Most of their best songs have a mournful quality to them, but this one is mostly upbeat, and there’s something rousing about the chorus’ main line, “You look good when your heart is on fire.” Doesn’t everyone?

131. Soundgarden – “Rusty Cage.” Bonus points for the Johnny Cash cover.

130. White Town – “Your Woman.” Another incredibly unlikely hit – a gay Indian-Englishman singing how he “could never be your woman.”

129. Texas – “Say What You Want.” I’m not a big adult-contemporary (or whatever they’re calling it these days) guy, but Texas’ White On Blonde album transcended that genre for me, including this song, the title track, and “Halo.”

128. Squirrel Nut Zippers – “Hell.” One of the best bands I have ever seen live, and the only band from that swing-revival period to make the list.

127. Mazzy Star – “Fade Into You.” The only other Mazzy Star song I like at all is “Rhymes of an Hour,” off the Stealing Beauty soundtrack.

126. Filter – “Hey Man, Nice Shot.” Another game-changer – I don’t think I’d ever heard a song on the radio before this one with so much screaming. But in this case, the song would have been completely forgettable without it.

125. Mercury Rev – “Young Man’s Stride.” Great overlooked band of the ’90s and early 2000s, with this, “Goddess on a Highway,” and “Delta Sun Bottleneck Stomp.” The ease with which they changed musical directions, even within a single album, always impressed me.

124. Primitive Radio Gods – “Standing Outside A Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand.” Granted, the song wouldn’t have been a hit without the sample.

123. Toad the Wet Sprocket – “Walk On The Ocean.” Never liked “All I Want,” which was the bigger hit; this song has more of an edge to its lyrics.

122. Propellerheads – “History Repeating.” A jazz/big beat fusion that sounds like the theme to a James Bond film with a dominating vocal performance from Dame Shirley Bassey.

121. 10,000 Maniacs – “Candy Everybody Wants.” A biting commentary on the decline of American news coverage? I suppose it’s open to interpretation, but the backing music has that trademark Maniacs melange of American styles from bluegrass to big band.

120. Helmet – “Unsung.” The most overhyped (major-label) debut album of the 1990s? Helmet weren’t pioneers, but had they come out in the late ’90s or early 2000s they might have found a better commercial response. This was the only track from them I found listenable, about as close a crossover to the mainstream as thrash ever got.

119. Sundays – “Summertime.” How did the Sundays never break out of the alternative bin in the U.S.? They made clever, sometimes beautiful pop songs, led by this cheerful jangle-pop number, but their final album, Static and Silence, failed to chart here despite “Summertime” getting some alternative radio play. Also, Harriet Wheeler was cute.

118. Peter Murphy – “Cuts You Up.” A little bloated – Murphy’s ego? – but subtle and crafty as it insinuates itself into your subconscious.

117. Danzig – “Mother 93.” I’m not much of a Danzig fan, and this song is almost a joke musically, but the tempo changes and Glenn Danzig’s threatening growl give it entertainment value.

116. Shelter – “Here It Goes.” A Krishna-punk band that never seemed to break out of the NY hardcore scene, but I swear a dozen bands that came later ripped off their sound one way or another.

115. Third Eye Blind – “Semi-Charmed Life.” I debated not including this because it’s such a cheesy pop song … but it’s a really good cheesy pop song. If you wanted to explain a “hook” to someone unfamiliar with pop music, this would be a good place to start. Also, I smile when I hear this song because it reminds me of Pat Summerall calling them “Third Blind Eye” when they played at the halftime show of an NFL game (on Thanksgiving, I think).

114. Soul Coughing – “Janine.” You might have to hear this one live to appreciate it. “Janine/I drink you up/Like you were the Baltic Sea/And I were a cup” doesn’t have the same impact in print.

113. Sponge – “Plowed.” They were kind of viewed as a knockoff of a knockoff (Stone Temple Pilots), but this is one of the better amp-up songs of the decade, and it’s better than “Molly,” their biggest hit and the song they claim had nothing to do with Molly Ringwald despite the “Sixteen candles down the drain” chorus. Sure thing, fellas.

112. Civ – “Can’t Wait One Minute More.” Speaking of NYC hardcore, Civ at least found a little mainstream play between this song (with its hilarious, no-budget video spoofing gonzo daytime talk shows) and “Secondhand Superstar.”

111. Letters to Cleo – “I See.” I’ve got a dozen or so songs on here that changed my opinions on rock or alternative music, and this is another – I’d never heard anything like Kay Hanley’s frenetic, tongue-twisting delivery on this or its follow-up, “Here and Now.” The now-defunct WBCN gave them a lot of love during my senior spring in college, when I was counting the minutes until I graduated and listened to even more music than ever.

110. Dishwalla – “Counting Blue Cars.” My opinion of the song improved when I realized the vocals were from the perspective of elementary school kids, musing about life’s big questions. I’m still convinced the band flopped because their name sucked, though. Band names matter.

109. Our Lady Peace – “Superman’s Dead.” Had four OLP songs on my original list but ended up with just one; “Starseed,” “Naveed,” and “One Man Army” were the others. “Superman’s Dead” seems, with hindsight, the peak of their energy-filled-teenaged-angst style.

108. Meat Puppets – “Backwater.” Speaking of bad band names, I bring you the Meat Puppets, and their one pop song. They rode the grunge wave and support from Kurt Cobain to a ton of MTV airplay, but this is way too clean and polished to be properly called grunge.

107. New Order – “Regret.” From 1994 till 2001, it looked like this would be New Order’s swan song – they released a few more singles from Republic, but “Regret” was a huge hit and almost seemed like a fitting way to go out. Of course, they came back with a new album (Get Ready) in 2001, and even during the hiatus bassist Peter Cook recruited a Bernard Sumner soundalike and put together the band Monaco, churning out a couple of NO-like songs in “What Do You Want from Me?” and “I’ve Got a Feeling.”

106. Smashing Pumpkins – “Rocket.” Siamese Dream was a real watershed album that ended up mistakenly lumped in with the deluge of grunge acts of the time. I didn’t think Mellon Collie was close to this good, and nothing from that double disc is on the top 150, although “Muzzle” was on the original list of 200+.

105. Rage Against the Machine – “Killing In The Name” I like this song in spite of myself.

104. Jane’s Addiction – “Been Caught Stealing.” It just hasn’t aged well, but at the time, the fact that this song got airplay on mainstream rock and even pop stations was earth-shattering. For the record, I don’t believe for a second that Perry Farrell was just trying to make art with his risque album covers. He wanted controversy, and he got it. Well done. Just don’t pretend it was about some high-minded principle instead of filthy lucre.

103. Buffalo Tom – “Torch Singer.” First heard this over some montage of snowboarding footage, a weird juxtaposition for a simple acoustic song that could easily have just been a guy and his guitar.

102. Muse – “Sunburn.” Apple was way ahead of the U.S. on Muse, using “Sunburn” in a commercial in 2000 or 2001. I think I’d take this, “Muscle Museum,” or “Cave” over almost anything they’ve put out since Showbiz, their 1999 debut album.

101. Crystal Method – “Busy Child.” I guess I didn’t know. I liked this song before the Gap khakis commercial.

——————————-
100. Stone Roses – “I Am The Resurrection.” Not exactly the fifth gospel. Seven brilliant minutes punctuated by one of the most memorable bass licks I have ever heard.

99. Pearl Jam – “Alive.” I imagine this will be a little controversial. I loved Pearl Jam’s first album before it was played to death, revived, and then played to death again for good measure. I liked the second album. I was disappointed in the third album, and I was done. I haven’t heard anything by these guys since to change my mind, and if we’re talking full albums I’d sooner listen to Temple of the Dog or Mother Love Bone, although “Alive” was a stronger single than just about anything from those two preceding acts.

98. Jesus Jones – “Right Here Right Now.” Liked it when it came out, but it has grown on me over the last twenty years, in part for its in-the-moment take on one of the biggest world events of my lifetime. “International Bright Young Thing” gets an honorable mention.

97. Chemical Brothers – “Block Rockin’ Beats.” Grabs you right from the initial call to action and (fake) bass line. The beat does, actually, rock the block.

96. Clockhammer – “Greying Out.” The most obscure song in this list, I’ll bet – it’s really just about one guitar riff, which opens the song and appears in the chorus. They weren’t edgy enough to be alternative, not grungy enough to be grungy, and not heavy enough to be metal, so they didn’t have much hope for airplay.

95. Barenaked Ladies – “The Old Apartment.” I’m not a rabid BNL fan, but liked this song and its clever lyrical twist. Plus it came out right as my wife and I moved out of our first apartment together, one we really loved but couldn’t justify paying for given how small it was.

94. Garbage – “Supervixen.” I originally thought I’d have several Garbage songs on this list – “Vow,” “Queer,” and “Only Happy When It Rains” – but when I started ranking songs this was the only one to survive the various cuts, partly because it was never overplayed (I don’t need to hear “Stupid Girl” for another nine years, at least) and partly because it was their best song when I saw them live on their first tour.

93. Depeche Mode – “It’s No Good.” DM peaked with Violator and began a steady and recently painful decline into caricature. I don’t think there was a better synth-pop band in the ’80s, since they took their new wave sound and extended it into rock and industrial territory, but once they got away from their roots, almost everything they did felt like a nerdy kid trying too hard to be tough. Be the nerd, boys.

92. Chumbawamba – “Tubthumping.” The members of this band/anarchist collective have said for years that the song is meant as a celebrating of the working (and drinking) man, but I have always suspected there was an element of irony or maybe outright parody in it, since it doesn’t exactly paint the greatest picture of Joe Working Class.

91. Charlatans – “Sproston Green.” The closer from their debut album and the closer in every concert they’ve given since. I have no idea what this song is about, but I have always found the music intoxicating, one of the best tracks of the short-lived “Madchester” movement. The Charlatans, for what little it’s worth, were one of my first-ever successful prospect calls, as I wrote a short review for a school paper forecasting a great career from them, one I think they made good on for about a decade.

90. Suede – “Metal Mickey.” I know I’ve probably beaten the joke into the ground, but this should be Brett Anderson’s intro music. It’s aggressive, raw, and unpolished, so it didn’t go far in the U.S., but there’s something invigorating about a grinding rock song that hasn’t been produced into bland, radio-friendly submission.

89. Blur – “Song 2.” It’s a little bit of a shame that this is the song for which Blur will forever be known, since it’s hardly representative of their music – but it’s brilliant and the perfect length for a song of its ilk.

88. Oasis – “Some Might Say.” Not so much Britpop as Brit-arena-rock. I love that Oasis was so unapologetic about making big, loud guitar-driven songs made to be played outdoors in front of 20,000 raucous fans.

87. Nirvana – “Lounge Act.” The best album of the ’90s, for my money, although it’s hard to pick a second standout track after the obvious one. “Lounge Act” always grabbed me because the meter has you slightly unbalanced for the entire song, and the more obvious choices, like “Lithium” and “Come As You Are,” have been played to death since the album’s release.

86. Soul Asylum – “Spinnin’.” Not quite as good as their late-80s masterpiece “Sometime To Return,” but it maintains that same frenetic pace and self-doubting lyrics.

85. Black Grape – “Yeah Yeah Brother.” I was never huge on the Happy Mondays – not even the “Come Together” ripoff “Step On” – but this insidious dance track sounded to me like the collision of pop and anti-pop in the sky over an all-night rave.

84. Space – “Neighbourhood.” Mister Rogers’, it ain’t.

83. Jars of Clay – “Flood.” Unbeatable harmonies and a lot of energy for what is fundamentally a Christian folk song.

82. James – “Just Like Fred Astaire.” I’m not wild about most love songs – the very term calls to mind cliches and boring music – but this track avoided both issues, and as a Fred Astaire fan I appreciate the simile at the heart of the song.

81. Spacehog – “In The Meantime.” It’s that one guitar lick during the chorus, isn’t it? I mean, without that, this song doesn’t get a quarter of the airplay it did.

80. Longpigs – “Blue Skies.” If and when I have a regular podcast or even radio show, this will be my intro music. The first thirty seconds or so feel like a delta-blues stomp, and during their brief career Longpigs were usually good for a clever line or two (“If there were no gods at all/I know I’d probably fear them still”).

79. Tasmin Archer – “Sleeping Satellite.” Talk about one-hit wonders. I’ve never heard another song quite like this one, although I did think at the time that Des’ree stole her thunder with that “Gotta Be” garbage – it was like “Sleeping Satellite” dumbed down for the masses.

78. Eels – “Novocaine For The Soul.” Jesus and his lawyer/are coming back.

77. Travis – “Why Does It Always Rain On Me?” I thought this song was stupid when I first heard it, until I thought about the lyrics – Travis was never much for intelligent lyrics, but the core lament about the nature of luck in life is a profound one, although I’d probably lay even money that they didn’t intend it as such.

76. An Emotional Fish – “Celebrate.” A forgotten modern-rock classic that probably came about four or five years too soon. It got a lot of airplay in Boston because the band was Irish. Well, that and the fact that the song is catchy.

75. Beck – “Loser.” I actually like Beck, but it’s more that I generally like his music than a fondness for a particular song or two. He’s ridiculously clever and inventive; I’m not sure there are five better lyricists working in the realm of popular music right now, and this song had some outstanding wordplay. Jason Mraz is just a pretender to this throne.

74. Radiohead – “High And Dry.” The Bends gets better every time I listen to it. A song that would be the high point in many rock bands’ careers is maybe the third- or fourth-best track on Radiohead’s second-best album.

73. James – “Laid.” Somehow this song avoided me until after its run on the charts was over. Fun one to play on the guitar with a bunch of friends to sing along, generally when we’d all had a little too much to drink.

72. Oasis – “Wonderwall.” Much as Blur shouldn’t be remembered just for “Song 2,” Oasis shouldn’t just be remembered for this half love-song/half-lament/full homage to George Harrison. But it is a great song.

71. Alice in Chains – “Would?” I think posterity will be – or is already – unkind to Alice in Chains, consigining them somewhat to the grunge dustbin, and their new incarnation as a generic aggro-metal band won’t help matters. They were boundary-pushers in their brief heyday, and they were grunge more for reasons of geography than legitimate musical similarities.

70. Animals that Swim – “Faded Glamour.” I’ve never heard a better song about the decay of an old city. Underrated band even within the U.K., and almost completely unknown here, since their sound was so British and almost cheerfully dated.

69. Soundgarden – “Spoonman.” A guilty pleasure. Just move on.

68. Cracker – “Teen Angst (What The World Needs Now).” Very few rock songs make me laugh the first time I hear them; this is one of a handful that made me laugh the second time. “Another folk singer” is a great code phrase to use with people who know the song.

67. K’s Choice – “Not An Addict.” Memorable enough that fifteen years later, my wife and I can hum the intro to each other (like when I see her playing Farmville) and get the entire message across. This song always reminded me of an obscure track from about two years prior by Fledgling called “Solomon’s Crown.”

66. Trash Can Sinatras – “Hayfever.” I discovered this song and band because of Beavis and Butthead. I still have a hard time with that.

65. Drugstore – “El President.” The story goes that the lead singer of Drugstore didn’t want the job because she didn’t like her voice. I can’t imagine a larynx better suited to singing rock songs than hers. Guest vocal by Thom Yorke – he got around a bit, including a star turn on P.J. Harvey’s “This Mess We’re In” – puts it over the top, although I imagine the Secret Service wasn’t a fan.

64. Matthew Sweet – “Girlfriend.” One of the best power-pop songs of all time. Two good guitar solos, too.

63. Eels – “Last Stop: This Town.” When Eels were good, they combined strong melodies with unusual arrangements, so you’d always get something unexpected like the two-octave drop for one line in the chorus. Excellent video.

62. For Squirrels – “8:02 PM.” They had one minor hit with “Mighty K.C.,” a half-baked tribute to Kurt Cobain that came after their own lead singer and manager were killed when their bus crashed during a tour. Their debut album had a lot of promise, led by this nervous, fast-paced rock track.

61. Ian Brown – “Set My Baby Free.” Who knew that Brown was such an essential part of the Stone Roses’ genius? It would make the list just for the main lyric in the chorus, “Hey, you ugly people/I want you to set my baby free.”

60. 10,000 Maniacs – “These Are Days.” I’m not a fan of any of their work except for their final album, when they turned in a poppier direction.

59. Soul Asylum – “Black Gold.” Sort of the transition song from classic, frenetic Soul Asylum to folky crap like “Runaway Train” that sent their indie-rock cred boat on to the rocks. It seems like tons of bands have songs like this, one great song that veers from their standard sound and leads them in a more commercial direction, after which they’re unlistenable. Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” is the canonical example for me, but “Black Gold” is probably a better example for my taste in music – a song I loved that marks the end of my fandom of a great band.

58. Depeche Mode – “Enjoy The Silence.” It’s easy to take this song at face value as another synth-pop song along the lines of “Just Can’t Get Enough,” but there’s a gothic/industrial undercurrent to this song, which sounds like a lost B-side from 1983 recorded by Evil Depeche Mode.

57. Soul Coughing – “Circles.” Doughty refers to this as “the hit” when he plays it in solo concerts, and it was probably the closest thing to a pop song they ever recorded – and the highest-charting- but it’s certainly not my favorite SC song and you could argue it’s not even the best song on El Oso.

56. Blur – “There’s No Other Way.” I love Albarn’s laconic singing style and the slightly off-kilter drumbeat, and the fact that it’s underproduced – the whole thing sounds like it was recorded in a swimming pool – just adds to its psychedelic feel. Or something.

55. Better than Ezra – “Good.” They peaked with their first song, but at least it was a memorable one, among a handful on this list that put me back to a specific time and place. Great chorus with a brief but somewhat potent story in the lyrics.

54. Smashing Pumpkins – “Cherub Rock.” They had a great run for four albums, but nothing quite matched this song’s combination of intensity and sludge for me, like grunge but distinct enough that they couldn’t be lumped into the Seattle scene. The words never made a lick of sense to me, though.

53. Marcy Playground – “Sex And Candy.” So I had this song on a compilation CD a year before it became an alternative-radio hit, and only discovered it after hearing the song on whatever that crappy faux-alternative station was when we lived in Pittsburgh. (I remember that they only played the version of Sugar Ray’s “Fly” that didn’t have Super Cat’s added vocals, and it annoyed my face off.) “Sex and Candy” has to be one of the greatest one-hit wonder hits ever, and the whole thing sounds like it took 20 minutes to write and an hour to record, tops. But it’s a less-is-more classic, like they put all their good ideas into one song and could have called it a day afterwards.

52. Oasis – “Supersonic.” Sneering and unapologetic, masculine rock. I love the fact that sixteen years on they’re still making the same music. I hate the fact that they seem to have run out of hooks. This track was a smack upside the head at a time when grunge had played itself out and we needed a fresh wave of guitar-based rock.

51. Charlatans – “Tellin’ Stories.” The decision to omit this from their first greatest hits package defied any and all explanation. The long cold open builds up this tremendous tension that never quite dissipates before the song ends.

50. Alice in Chains – “No Excuses.” It’s funny that Alice in Chains did so much great acoustic work – this, “I Stay Away,” the Sap EP – yet their Unplugged show was joyless and perfunctory. The three-part harmonies here are a revelation from a band known for sludgy, bummed-out rock.

49. Handsome Boy Modeling School – “Rock N’ Roll (Could Never Hip Hop Like This).” Prince Paul and Dan the Automator? Sign me up. This track, built around a sample from a young LL Cool J (or someone who sounds a hell of a lot like him), is now my ringtone.

48. Squirrel Nut Zippers – “Put A Lid On It.” Save it for another night. The swing craze didn’t last – and frankly Swingers wasn’t good enough to survive a second viewing – but this is one of a small number of songs from that brief revival that still sounds great today, instead of like a money-grab anachronism.

47. Jesus & Mary Chain with Hope Sandoval – “Sometimes Always.” Not the typical J&MC track, and I’m not sure it really had to be Hope Sandoval, but the combination works as a fake ballad with an ironic lyrical twist.

46. Drugstore – “Spacegirl.” Isabel Monteiro, the Brazilian lead singer of this British band, has an unmistakeable smoky voice, almost a baritone, that could turn the phone book into riveting lyrics.

45. The Primitives – “Crash – the ’95 Mix.” I’m cheating here, since the original “Crash” was released in 1988, but 1) I didn’t hear the song until the remix/re-release and 2) the remix/re-release was better. Plus, it’s my list, and I can do what I want. “Sick of It” was probably their other main college-radio hit, but for me “Secrets” is just a shade behind “Crash” for best Primitives song.

44. Morrissey – “The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get.” Beware/I bear more grudges/Than lonely high-court judges. Sung with a smirk, as most Morrissey songs should be.

43. Sugar – “If I Can’t Change Your Mind.” A near-perfect acoustic power-pop song. Bob Mould’s ear for melody poked through from time to time with Hüsker Dü, but it shone once he shifted to more radio-friendly fare, both in his solo work (“See a Little Light”) and with Sugar (“Your Favorite Thing,” “Helpless,” and this track).

42. U2 – “Until The End Of The World.” This song has a dark, desolate quality I had never heard before in a U2 rocker, which turned out to be true of much of the Achtung Baby disc, almost as if they took the success of “With or Without You” as a clue that they should add that layer of complexity to all of their songs.

41. Sneaker Pimps – “Six Underground.” Trip-hop never did much for me, but the more traditional song structure and the sultry vocals made this more of a trip-pop song. Without Kelli Ali, the Pimps haven’t done much, although I did like their 2002 single “Sick.”

40. Mother Love Bone – “Crown Of Thorns.” I wore out their only full-length CD, Apple, for at least a full year after it came out, but in the last ten years have barely gone back to it. (MLB’s lead singer, Andrew Wood, died of a heroin overdose before the album came out; he was the subject of the Temple of the Dog song “Say Hello 2 Heaven,” and Stone Gossard and Jeff Ament of MLB went on to found Pearl Jam.) The great loss with Wood was his poetic lyrics, as he used more concrete imagery in the average song than you’ll find on a typical top 10 album.

39. Catherine Wheel – “Waydown.” Profiled this one in my ten forgotten songs post from last spring.

38. Stone Temple Pilots – “Trippin’ On A Hole In A Paper Heart.” As good as the song is, it also seemed a little rock-by-numbers even at the time. It’s built on a great riff – a tremendous riff – but there’s not much to back it up.

37. The Verve – “Lucky Man.” You know, the great Verve song they actually wrote all by themselves.

36. Ash – “Girl From Mars.” Catchy punk-pop with clever lyrics, and they were just 19 when the album came out. These guys put Green Day in their back pockets.

35. U2 – “Mysterious Ways.” This video always cracked me up, as it consists largely of Bono preening for the camera.

34. Dandy Warhols – “Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth.” My introduction to the Dandys’ brand of snarky indie rock, well before they got all polished and produced. How could you not like a song with “Heroin is so passé” as its refrain?

33. Prince – “Sexy M.F..” Prince’s 1990s output paled compared to what he produced in the 1980s, but this funk masterpiece harkened back to his earliest work but with more polish and unplayable lyrics.

32. Soul Asylum – “Somebody To Shove.” A last gasp for their original post-punk/garage sound before they morphed into a radio-friendly country-rock act.

31. Ozomatli – “Cut Chemist Suite.” Guest vocals by Chali 2Na from Jurassic 5 and guest scratching by Cut Chemist elevate this over Ozomatli’s typical jazz/funk/Latin hybrids.

30. Manic Street Preachers – “If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next.” I can’t say I ever agreed much with their politics, and often their rhetoric outshone their fairly straight-ahead Brit-rock, but this atmospheric lament retains some of the energy on their less focused polemics. If you’re not familiar with MSP, their non-musical claim to fame is that their main lyricist, Richey James Edwards, disappeared in 1995 and was eventually presumed dead after a long battle with depression and anorexia; he’s is probably most remembered in Britain for carving the letters “4 REAL” into his arm during a live televised interview.

29. Faith No More – “Midlife Crisis.” These guys were doomed after “Epic,” a one-off joke song from the otherwise strong hard-rock album The Real Thing, became a crossover hit, even though the disc featured some far better songs like “From Out of Nowhere,” “Falling to Pieces,” or the title track. The follow-up disc, Angel Dust, was uneven, but included two standout tracks that should have had commercial appeal, but the market wanted another “Epic” and FNM, to their credit, didn’t give them one.

28. Moloko – “Fun For Me.” I’ll quote myself: I first heard this on WFNX in 1997 when it was playing as my alarm went off one morning, and despite not hearing it again for years, I remembered enough of the lyrics to track it down during what one might call the Napster era. It sticks in your head like treacle – and I know it’s not just my head, because everyone for whom I’ve played this song hasn’t just loved it, but become a little obsessed with it, regardless of what type(s) of music they typically liked.

27. Stone Temple Pilots – “Interstate Love Song.” Purple was STP’s deepest album, where “Big Empty,” one of their biggest radio hits, was maybe the sixth-best song.

26. These Animal Men – “Sharp Kid.” These Animal Men melded new wave and post-punk with makeup and glam-rock tales of drugs and debauchery, and were promptly swept aside by the more muscular rock of Oasis. Good luck getting the shouted “ba-ba-da” line out of your head; it’s been in mine for a decade.

25. Soundgarden – “Fell On Black Days.” They deviated from their hard-rock roots on the Superunknown album, but as good as “Big Dumb Sex” was, I can at least understand their desire to evolve musically, and for two albums the results were pretty solid. The one disappointment on this and the follow-up album was Chris Cornell’s lyrics, which took a step back even as their sound continued to advance; this was the one song on Superunknown where I saw glimpses of the writing Cornell showed on Badmotorfinger.

24. Oasis – “D’You Know What I Mean?.” Aside from the song’s length, I don’t see a reason why this wasn’t a bigger hit here. If the market was looking at Oasis for another “Wonderwall” or “Champagne Supernova,” they completely misread what the band was all about and obviously hadn’t listened to much of the album from which those songs came. “D’You Know…” is a huge, bombastic, balls-out, driving rocker, seven minutes of testosterone wrapped in guitars.

23. Prince – “Pope.” You can be the President/I’d rather be the Pope. Seems more true now than when he wrote the lyrics, doesn’t it?

22. Depeche Mode – “Policy Of Truth.” Not my favorite Mode song – that would be “Never Let Me Down Again” – but it’s second. There’s a creepy, gothic quality to this that marked much of their best post-Vince-Clarke material.

21. Charlatans – “The Only One I Know.” The opener to a solid album and a great career, this Madchester anthem is a throwback to the psychedelic rock of the late 1960s, complete with Hammond organ.

20. School of Fish – “3 Strange Days.” One of the great unrealized careers of 1990s rock was that of School of Fish and their lead singer, Josh Clayton-Felt, who died of testicular cancer at age 33 less than nine years after this song became an alternative-radio hit. School of Fish’s second CD, Human Cannonball, was a better overall disc than the first, but didn’t have a breakout hit like this track (although “Take Me Anywhere” and “Kerosene” were favorites of mine), and the band broke up shortly thereafter. Clayton-Felt may have had some great music left in him, but he was dead within six weeks of the diagnosis. So listen to this song, and make sure you check your boys often.

19. Ned’s Atomic Dustbin – “Grey Cell Green.” I remain convinced that using the word “dustbin” in their names helped sink Ned’s chances of commercial success in the U.S., in part because I find it hard to believe this song didn’t cross over for at least a little airplay on mainstream rock stations. This song and “Kill Your Televison” presaged a lot of the harder side of Britpop and its descendents, including Oasis, Radiohead, and Muse.

18. U2 – “One.” Although I never really needed to see these guys in drag.

17. Stone Temple Pilots – “Big Bang Baby.” It was almost like someone dared STP to write a pop song, and Weiland covered it with the same lament about fame and success that filled much of the Tiny Music disc. This was sort of the end of their most fertile period of songwriting – they had a few strong singles afterwards, but the writing became as uneven as Weiland himself was.

16. Radiohead – “Just.” The song that made me a Radiohead fan, and a sound I think Muse has been emulating for a decade now. One of the funniest comments I saw on the old Baseball Primer was from Dan Szymborski, who said that the whispered secret in the video for “Just” was (I’m paraphrasing) “pitchers have little to no control over the results of balls in play.”

15. Mansun – “Wide Open Space.” The only Mansun song to receive any airplay in the U.S., although their debut album, Attack Of The Grey Lantern, is strong, with a half-dozen other songs worth your time; I always thought President Bush should have used the opener, “The Chad Who Loved Me,” at his 2001 inauguration.

14. Dinosaur Jr. – “Start Choppin’.” If there’s a better adjective for the guitar in this song than “crunchy,” I’d like to hear it. This song actually hit the top 20 on the U.K. Pop singles chart, which is another sign that the Brits are more highly musically evolved than we are.

13. Faith No More – “A Small Victory.” About as melodic as FNM ever got, almost poppy, but lead singer Mike Patton managed to slip a little growl or two in there.

12. Portishead – “Sour Times.” Also known as “Theme to a Nonexistent Spy Film.”

11. Butthole Surfers – “Who Was In My Room Last Night?” If you know the Surfers at all, it’s probably because of alternative-radio hit “Pepper,” or perhaps from Gibby Haynes’ guest spot on Ministry’s “Jesus Built My Hotrod,” but this is by far their best track, the best song ever written about a bad dream, with a guitar riff that could have come from Tony Iommi’s best work with Black Sabbath.

10. Radiohead – “Fake Plastic Trees.” Another song that grew on me the more I heard it. Thom Yorke’s vocals – plaintive, even whining – and the added layers of sound behind the final verse elevate it beyond your standard acoustic-number-by-rock-band tune.

9. Prince – “Gett Off.” Prince was much, much funkier when he sang about sex rather than about how funky he was.

8. Stone Temple Pilots – “Plush.” Memorable for two reasons beyond its status as a great grunge song: its meaningless (or so I believe) lyrics, and that one chord that every guitar player couldn’t quite figure out. It’s also the rare song that worked just as well in an acoustic version as it did in its original plugged-in version.

7. Screaming Trees – “Nearly Lost You.” The grunge revolution on pop radio skipped the Trees despite this radio-friendly gem, which also appeared on the Singles soundtrack, a must-own at the time for any college student into alternative or grunge. I saw the Trees twice in concert, and despite the fact that neither guitarist was much to write home about technically, they gave a great show, with drummer Barrett Martin playing with what seemed like six arms.

6. Stone Roses – “Love Spreads.” My ring tone for years was the intro to this song, a blues-rock song with heavy use of the slide that owed a debt to Jimmy Page and yet was unmistakeably Roses. Odd fact: The Stone Roses’ original record label, Silvertone, was owned by Zomba Records, best known as the home of boy bands N*Sync and the Backstreet Boys a few years after the Roses bolted for Geffen.

5. Soul Coughing – “Super Bon Bon.” Move aside/And let the man go through. Homicide: Life on the Street used a long chunk of this song in the intro sequence to one of its best episodes, over a scene where the detectives raided a chop shop, something that remains, for me, among the best uses ever of a current song in a television program.

4. Pigeonhed featuring the Lo-Fidelity All-Stars – “Battleflag.” Quoting myself again: I first heard this during my summer in Seattle in 1998 while pulling into the parking lot of the Safeway on Queen Anne Ave., and I sat in the car until the damn thing was over because I was riveted to the seat. Rock meets electronica meets funk with a vocalist doing his best homage to Prince.

3. Beth Orton – “Stolen Car.” Nothing against Dido, but the reason she was successful in the U.S. while her contemporary Orton was not was her looks. Orton wrote better lyrics and better music, capped off by this sinuous, haunting slow-rocker whose words aim at shifting targets.

2. Radiohead – “Paranoid Android.” I once saw a reference to this song as the strangest single to ever hit the British Top 10. I can’t think of a mainstream rock song this musically complex other than the faux-operetta “Bohemian Rhapsody,” forever ruined as serious music by Wayne’s World. Let’s hope no similar fate awaits Radiohead’s masterpiece.

1. Nirvana – “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” The song and album that redefined rock music, destroying one entire movement (hair metal), ushering in a new one (grunge), inspiring countless singers and lyricists, and keeping alive the punk/post-punk ethic for at least a few more years.

A few stragglers from the 2000s.

So while compiling a list of songs for an eventual post of my top 100 rock tracks of the 1990s – the pool is over 200 and still growing by one or two a day – I came across some odd tracks that I either forgot about when working on my top 40 songs of the 2000s; they probably wouldn’t have all made the list, but they were worth mentioning, and I don’t feel like writing up another post on Ulysses.

LCD Soundsystem – “Daft Punk Is Playing At My House.” Kind of an alternative novelty hit, but it is catchy enough that I’ve caught myself singing it a few days after hearing it. I’m still waiting for the sequel, “Daft Punk is Playing Settlers of Catan at My House.”

Ryan Adams – “New York, New York.” The video and the timing made it an unlikely hit, but I found this to be one of Adams/Whiskeytown’s most accessible or mainstream songs. Speaking of Whiskeytown, “Don’t Be Sad” was recorded in the 1990s but wasn’t released until 2001, so it qualifies through the back door, although it’s a little too folky for me.

Starsailor – “Good Souls.” I actually saw these guys live in 2002, so there’s no excuse for forgetting the best song from their debut album, but for some reason I mentally had them pegged in 1999. It’s just a well-constructed song – you don’t notice the great foundation from the bass guitar until it’s alone in the final few measures – reminiscent to me of the slower material on Radiohead’s The Bends.

Basement Jaxx – “Where’s Your Head At” A phenomenal video and one of the best electronica songs of the decade, but my faulty memory put it on their 1999 debut album, Remedy. And hey, isn’t that Patton Oswalt? (No – no, it’s not.)

The Beautiful South – “Closer Than Most.” Kind of a straight song from an ordinarily snarky band (“36D” and “Ol’ Red Eyes is Back” come to mind in the latter category), “Closer” features one of my favorite lyrics of any era:

You dashed pretty’s only chance of a compliment
And gave the plain the blues
Turned supermodel into last year’s pull
And got her down shinin’ your shoes
Now I don’t mean to be hod carrier
Of other folks’ bad news
But tell Miss World to fly to Mars
If she really doesn’t like to lose

Air – “Cherry Blossom Girl.” I’m not quite sure what to call Air – “Radio #1” was sort of alternative rock-ish, but “Girl” is this soft, ethereal ballad that might fit on adult contemporary radio. I give them credit for making an X-rated video that 1) wasn’t going to get any play anywhere and 2) uses pornography in a way that seems anti-pornographic. Apparently the video was directed by a porn director noted for his idiosyncratic style, making it more impressive that he would paint such an unflattering view of his own industry.

Presidents of the United States of America – “Some Postman.” Never got into their 1990s stuff, when they were one of a dozen snotty faux-punk joke bands (Tripping Daisy, Hagfish) to infect alternative radio, but this one track from their 2004 album Love Everybody hit the mark, telling a funny story instead of throwing out ridiculous lines in search of a laugh.

BT featuring Doughty – “Never Gonna Come Back Down.” Very Crystal Method-ish, with a guest vocal from one of my favorite songwriters from any decade. “I’m just gonna … say this/To the people, not so much the people in the audience as the people sitting in my mind.”

Top 40 songs of the 2000s.

I had no intention of doing any sort of decade-end list, even when I saw various other “best songs of the 2000s” rankings go by, but when I heard the #2 song on this list on the radio last week I had the idea of doing a blog post about it, and after a few terrible, discarded ideas, landed upon this. This isn’t a greatest songs list – just a list of my favorite songs of the 2000s, with longevity serving as my main criterion: I had to like the song, and like it enough that I still wanted to hear it months or years later. Aside from a few hip-hop songs, it’s almost entirely alternative, with a heavy British influence, which probably just says that my listening tastes have become as narrow as my reading tastes are wide.

40. The Darkness – “I Believe In A Thing Called Love.” The first of several songs on this list to heavily reference 1970s hard rock, with the Darkness unabashedly stealing from the New Wave of British Heavy Metal that brought us bands like Iron Maiden and Motorhead. Wikipedia says this song was on the soundtrack for Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, which seems comparable to putting a Yanni song on the soundtrack to Hostel.

39. Jurassic 5 – “What’s Golden.” I think their best song was 1998’s “Without a Doubt” – if they’d stuck with that slightly harder sound, they might have found a more consistent audience – but this was the high point of their recordings after that debut disc.

38. The Music – “Freedom Fighters.” Another ’70s-influenced band – that huge guitar riff just fills your ears, and I think the lack of a singable chorus hurt their chances on this side of the pond. “Breakin’” gets an honorable mention, but that flopped here as well, and they have possibly the least radio-friendly band name since Pussy Galore.

37. Carbon Leaf – “The Boxer.” Done right, rock tinged with Irish folk music is among my favorite styles of music. To the ring, to the right.

36. Velvet Revolver – “Slither“. I admit it – hearing this for the first time, I went right back to ’87 and the first time I heard Appetite for Destruction. Of course, back in ’87 it blew my ears off, while in 2004 it was a little quaint.

35. Mute Math – “Typical.” Too clever by half? Mute Math seems to have a reputation as a brilliant band, and the whole playing-backwards trick was pretty cool, but “I know there’s got to be another level/Somewhere closer to the other side” might as well be a Backstreet Boys lyric. Good thing the hook in the chorus is so catchy.

34. Stereophonics – “Have A Nice Day.” Yes, I know “Dakota” was far more successful on both sides of the Atlantic, but having listened to Stereophonics’ earlier output, I felt like I’d heard “Dakota” too many times before – “The Bartender And The Thief” is a similar yet better song in the same pseudo-punk vein, and “Local Boy In The Photograph
is better but less punk-ish, although both were released too early for this list. “Have a Nice Day” is a slower, folkier number based on the cliched provincial cab driver met by the band – this one in San Francisco, as the story goes – but I’ll give Kelly Jones credit for a more detailed picture of the driver’s attitude and for putting such a unique stamp on the song with his raspy vocals. Come to think of it, I need to reload all my Stereophonics tracks on to my iPod.

33. White Stripes – “Seven Nation Army.” Great song, but overplayed to the point where I can still only take it in limited doses. One of the top intro bass lines in rock history.

32. Morningwood – “Nth Degree.” Surprised this never caught on as a “get amped” song at sporting events. Because it … gets you amped. I still have no idea what the shrieking voice says in the chorus.

31. Silversun Pickups – “Lazy Eye.” How long before we brand these guys one-hit wonders? And am I the only one who wasn’t sure if the lead singer was male or female? Great song in the single edit, but the outro to the album track is just late-60s wanking, and I doubt there’s been a bigger letdown for me when learning the actual lyrics to any song. “That same old decent lazy-eye?” Uh, okay.

30. Keane – “Somewhere Only We Know.” And the first track on their next album, “Spiralling,” was great and much more uptempo, which deked me into buying the entire thing only to discover that it sucked. But “Somewhere” is a beautiful lament along the lines of Coldplay’s “Trouble,” but with more urgency and less dirge.

29. Matt & Kim – “Daylight.” I think this is the newest (by release date) song on the list, although that’s a function of my attempt to avoid excessive recent-ism in putting the top 40 together. It’s the best White Stripes song not written or recorded by the White Stripes.

28. Coldplay – “In My Place.” I understand that “Clocks” is The Hit for these guys, but I was burned out on that song within a year, even before the Jays used it in a video montage at the end of the 2003 season to pay tribute to Roy Halladay’s (presumed, at the time) Cy Young-winning performance. I heard this song at a Coldplay concert from their first tour, and that opening riff made it the most memorable song of the night, even though I’d never heard it before.

27. Ian Brown – “Upside Down.” I’m not sure I would have even discovered this if it wasn’t by the former lead singer of the Stone Roses, since it garnered no airplay that I know of in the U.S. and is probably the most bizarre song on the list, with no percussion and an incongruous trumpet solo. Then again, Brown’s solo stuff has all been weird and compelling, so while this isn’t as good as “Set My Baby Free,” it’s his best song of the decade.

26. Wolfmother – “Joker And The Thief.” If you’re into old-school guitar rock at all, you had to like this song, right? The opening lick was hypnotic, and the producer tweaked every bit for maximum bombast. Sort of a guy’s guy song. I would have been surprised if they’d ever cooked up anything close to this good again.

25. Gnarls Barkley – “Crazy.” Cee-Lo’s “Closet Freak,” from his 2002 solo debut, gets an honorable mention here, too. Of course, “Crazy” ended up massively overplayed, and at this point I could stand a six-month break from it.

24. Flogging Molly – “Float.” I’ve mentioned this one before – I’m something of a sucker for Irish folk songs or, as with “Float,” songs that bring that sound forward into a sort of folk-rock hybrid. Few do it well and this, to me, is the pinnacle.

23. Chemical Brothers featuring Q-Tip, “Galvanize.” And let me just state for the record that I was all over this song a year before Budweiser stuck it on their commercials. There really is no justification for using a song this good to advertise a beer that bad.

22. Interpol – “Slow Hands.” This was the first Interpol song that didn’t sound to me like a blatant Joy Division ripoff (not that that’s even a bad thing, as there are forty million worse bands to rip off than JD), and also showed their deft hand at manipulating tempo and layering to create a full, textured song with a cathartic release in the final chorus.

21. The Stills – “Still In Love Song.” I thought these guys were supposed to be the next big thing, but this turned out to be their only … I can’t quite call it a hit. But the mix of sneer and despair in the vocals and the plaintive lead guitar line before each verse gave the song a Smiths vibe without a needless Morrissey impersonation.

20. Doves – “Words.” Either that main guitar riff hooks you on the first listen, or it annoys the hell out of you and you can’t get it out of your head for weeks. Needless to say I’m in group one, and the added layering as the song goes on just builds a tension that’s only broken by the quieter counterpoint in each chorus.

19. Sambassadeur – “Kate.” If the Kings of Convenience had been right and quiet really was the new loud, the Swedish band Sambassadeur would have been huge. As it was, they had to settle for royalties from a Payless Shoes commercial and a spot on my iPod. The song would be unbearably twee if it wasn’t for the lead singer’s slightly smoky voice and faint Swedish accent.

18. The Hives – “Hate To Say I Told You So.” The skinny ties and matching outfits were stupid, but they churned out a few memorable bone-crunchers, including this song and “Walk Idiot Walk.”

17. The Soundtrack of Our Lives – “Sister Surround.” I thought their Behind the Music album would cross over, but their sound was probably 25 years late and five years early, as ’70s guitar rock seemed to make a comeback at the end of the decade with songs like Wolfmother’s entry on the list.

16. Gorillaz – “19-2000 (Soulchild Remix).” The best fake band ever? I suppose an angry Rutles fan will show up in the comments to flame me. The hip pick for decade-end lists is “Feel Good Inc.,” another great song and one boosted by De La Soul’s best output since 3 Feet High and Rising, but this remix of an otherwise unremarkable song from Gorillaz’ debut has been on my main playlist since I first entered the digital music player world five or six years ago.

15. White Stripes – “Icky Thump.” I don’t generally get excited about politically-themed lyrics, but these were spot-on, in large part because Jack White picked a topic you could actually address in three minutes of words. Oh, and the song rocks.

14. The Klaxons – “Golden Skans.” Nu-rave died fast, yet the Klaxons, one of its leading lights, lived on. Good luck getting the chorus out of your head.

13. Modest Mouse – “Dashboard.” Johnny Marr’s revenge. I also think of this as the great pop song the Pixies never made.

12. Mike Doughty – “Looking At The World From The Bottom Of A Well.” A bouncy, sing-along (and ironic) track inspired by one of my favorite novels. The whole album, Haughty Melodic (an anagram of “Michael Doughty”), was excellent, although this was clearly the best track. I still miss Soul Coughing.

11. Queens of the Stone Age – “The Lost Art Of Keeping A Secret.” “No One Knows” is a great song, but nothing could top this sinister groove from their first album, Rated R, the perfect marriage of a subtle melody and detuned guitars.

10. Outkast – “Hey Ya!.” The best Prince song by an artist other than Prince.

9. Crystal Method – “Name Of The Game.” Not normally my style of music, but guitar riffs from Tom Morello and a contribution from a member of underground rap group Styles of Beyond plus a driving beat make for a hell of a driving or workout song.

8. Franz Ferdinand – “Take Me Out.” Requires no explanation, I assume.

7. The Dandy Warhols – “Bohemian Like You.” A bit forgotten as the music scene changed over the course of the decade, but it’s a catchy song dripping with snark aimed at the indie music scene.

6. White Stripes – “The Denial Twist.” Not their usual straight-ahead rocker, but they manage to update a Motown-esque sound into their minimalist musical style with plenty of wordplay in the lyrics. I probably could have put another half-dozen White Stripes songs on this list without much of a stretch.

5. Roots featuring Musiq – “Break You Off.” The best hip-hop song of the decade, assuming you accept it as hip-hop instead of R&B or soul or just … great music.

4. Arctic Monkeys – “I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor.” Still like this song as much now as when I first heard it, if not more. Spawned dozens of imitators, none of which produced a song this good.

3. Coldplay – “Viva La Vida.” Brilliant track from a brilliant album. I do wish these idiots hadn’t made themselves soft-rock icons with XY, because it has hurt their credibility as artists trying to expand the boundaries of pop (or pop/rock) music.

2. Kaiser Chiefs – “I Predict A Riot.” They did have another minor success with “Ruby,” but I think they’re really destined to go down as one of rock’s greatest one-hit wonders with this bizarre, relentless song that pairs despairing lyrics with an upbeat track.

1. Doves – “Caught By The River.” (video, although it’s the edited version) My favorite track by my favorite band, the soaring end to The Last Broadcast. Heavy U2 influence on the guitar interludes between verses. The fire that destroyed Sub Sub’s recording studio was probably the greatest conflagration in music history.

Stupid Love.

I’ve mentioned this before, but country singer Mindy Smith is actually a former classmate of mine – from second grade on through high school. I’d lost touch with her after we graduated but we reconnected a year or two ago when I found about her music career and contacted her manager, who sent me a copy of her newest album, Stupid Love, which came out earlier this week.

This isn’t ordinarily my style of music, but I did really enjoy the album beyond just being supportive of an old friend. The album runs about half-and-half between upbeat, folky-alternative songs and mournful ballads, with the former making more of an impression after my first listen than the latter, which required a few more spins for me. The first single, “Highs and Lows,” and the opening track, “What Went Wrong,” both would fit on an alternative rock station’s playlist; “Highs and Lows” sounds a bit like a lost David Gray track, while “What Went Wrong” is more power-pop along the lines of Jellyfish or the Primitives with a folk influence. The album’s closer, “Take a Holiday,” will probably pop up on half a dozen soundtracks over the next few years – it’s a closing-credits kind of song with a shuffling beat and a repeated lyrical gimmick of rhetorical questions asked by someone who’s hit a rut and can’t quite get out. The ballads are more of a mixed bag; the duet “True Love of Mine” has (non-cheesy) wedding song written all over it (and lo and behold, her duet partner Daniel Tashian sounds a lot like … David Gray!), and “Love Lost” does a great job of showcasing Smith’s sharp, smoky voice, but “Disappointed” feels underproduced and harsh and the ship metaphor in “Telescope” seemed a bit hackneyed to me.

The best part about this album, at least at the moment, is that you can download the whole thing for $3.99 at amazon.com. I doubt that’s the permanent price, but the discount has Stupid Love #2 on amazon’s mp3 album charts. I’m not sure how much of my audience is into this kind of music – anything from straight country to Sarah McLachlan – but I’ll offer a cheerfully biased recommendation that you give Stupid Love a shot.