Written by Leon Russell Produced by Leon Russell Released on Leon Russell (March 23, 1970) amazonspotifyiTunes
Is this a perfect song? Yes.
Is this the perfect record or performance?
While I can understand how easy it is to answer "no" to that question, I have always valued vision and personality in my music. This song and its performance is incredibly personal, and Leon Russell is a visionary musician and songwriter. So I think there is an argument for answering yes to the second question. In some ways Russell's performance on this recording is perfect (from a certain point of view).
All that said, not everyone is going to enjoy Leon Russell's voice. For some it may even be so off-putting that it might hinder their willingness to agree with my answer to the first question. So let me ask that question again while you listen to Donny Hathaway sing this song or Ray Charles or this absolutely GOAT performance from Whitney Houston. (Or really, pick your favorite singer because they probably covered it too.)
So, is it a perfect song? You already know my answer.
Now, as much as I'd like to stay on topic and really dive into this amazing composition, searching up and listening to these other stellar vocalists has gotten me sidetracked. Listening to and watching that video of Whitney Houston singing "A Song For You" live reminded me of one thing of which I am absolutely convinced: Whitney Houston is, unequivocally, the greatest female pop vocalist of all time.
I'll just let that hang there for a minute.
Now I'm sure some of you reading this want to come at me with your Billie Holiday or Ella Fitzgerald or Aretha Franklin or Christina Aguilera or Adele or Edith Piaf arguments. Well I can tell you to leave them right at home where you found them. There is a long list of accomplished singers who can make a claim to being The Greatest of All Time (or GOAT for those already familiar with that abbreviation), but for me, Whitney will always be a step above. Maybe she's just a Jersey girl with a killer voice, but I think she's so much more. She has the pitch control of Ella, the soul of Aretha, and the pop sensibilities of Christina all wrapped up in one uniquely talented package. At her peak, no one else came close. Watch her performance of this song again. Watch her on Letterman just after her first album was released. Watch her not quite live performance of the National Anthem at the Super Bowl. She was the perfect person for that performance, and she executed it in spectacular fashion. And as much as I hated it at the time, you cannot deny that Whitney's cover of the Dolly Parton classic "I Will Always Love You" is a pantheon level performance. No one did it better. So that's the basis for my argument in favor of Whitney being the GOAT. I will not be taking any questions.
Of course, it should be noted that I do feel the need to qualify Whitney as the greatest female pop vocalist of all time because the greatest pop vocalist of all time is Freddy Mercury. I can't find a way to justify an argument for anyone else to claim that mantle. I'm sure there is a strong argument in favor of Elvis, but Freddy took all the talent, versatility, and showmanship that made Elvis the King, and raised it to a higher level. No one else compares.
OK. Now that I've gotten all that off my chest, let's get back to the song at hand.
One of the aspects of this song that is so incredible is its self-awareness. This particular lyric illustrates what I mean:
But now I'm so much better
And if my words don't come together
Listen to the melody
Because my love is in there hiding
I love self-referential writing. Russell here is assuring his love that in addition to all the other mistakes he must apologize for, he also needs to apologize for not being able to adequately put his feelings into words. But a song's lyrics can't be the only way to convey love. There are plenty of instrumental songs and compositions that are unmistakably about love. Even without the lyrics, this song is a love song. Like love, it is sometimes sad while also always hopeful.
I was sad to hear of Leon Russell's passing in 2016. I was also disappointed that it wasn't a bigger deal. While he was more and did more than write one perfect song, I almost feel like this one song should be enough. So hopefully those of you reading this have either been reminded of this genius singer-songwriter, or maybe you are meeting him for the first time. Either way, enjoy it, and help his legacy live on a little longer.
Right now, "A Song For You" by Leon Russell is (probably) my 61st favorite song of all time.
Written by Beastie Boys (Michael "Mike D" Diamond, Adam "MCA" Yauch, Adam "Ad-Rock" Horovitz) Produced by Beastie Boys and Mario Caldato, Jr. Released on Ill Communication (May 31, 1994) Released as a single on January 28, 1994 music videoamazonspotifyiTunes Warning: Explicit Lyrics
There aren't many things that scream "1990's!" as loudly as the music video for "Sabotage" by the Beastie Boys. If someone asked me to describe what the 1990's were like, I might start by sharing this video. It is the definition of quintessential 1990's pop culture: it's camp and retro and features a rap-rock soundtrack. I spent most of my years in the 90's thinking retro and camp were unironically cool. During the 90's I spent money on and proudly wore Hawaiian shirts, low-rise boot-cut jeans, corduroy pants, and wide graphic ties. (If I'd ever actually bought a bowling shirt, I'd have thought myself the official king of the 90's.) Everything was baggy and ill-fitting. It's all we knew at the time. Retro and camp crept into the music landscape as well (particularly with the resurgence of swing), but rap and rock finally came together in a significant way then too. With their successes in the 1990s, Rage Against the Machine and Beastie Boys paved the way, for better or worse, for every 2000's era nu-metal band to have a DJ scratching records on all their songs.
The Beastie Boys are one of the first bands I remember liking, and "Fight for Your Right" is one of the first songs I remember falling in love with. As a very young child listening to top 40 radio, it was perfect. It spoke to youth. It sampled hard guitar licks, had a sing-a-long hook, and made you smile.
Every few years, a discussion about which Beasties Boys album is their best will come up. For me the answer will always be Ill Communication. I know that Licensed to Ill helped put rap music on the map. I also understand why many people (especially music critics) love to site Paul's Boutique as their best album. While it is fantastic and was a truly ground-breaking album at the time, because it didn't get nearly as much radio play as their other works, I never really got the chance to listen to and get familiar with that album. I also appreciate the Check Your Head album, but it was really just a stepping stone towards their musical peak: Ill Communication. My high opinion of Ill Communication almost certainly stems from two things: the first is that this album was released while I was starting to define for myself what kinds of music I enjoyed; and the second is that this band I had first loved listening to as a seven year old was now making more rock oriented music while I was diving head first into all things rock music.
As was seen in the rebooted Star Trek films, there aren't many songs that are better at getting you amped for going to battle (while also screwing up your enemy's communication systems) than this song. I also love the idea of it being labeled as classical music in the future, while also being referred to as "the beat and shouting" (which might be the best and simplest way to describe it). While the Beastie Boys at their core are a hip hop crew, they did start out playing punk rock in Brooklyn. That marriage of the visceral energy of punk and hip hop is what makes this song so great. I will always think of "Sabotage" as their best song and Ill Communication as their best album.
Right now, "Sabotage" by Beastie Boys is (probably) my 62nd favorite song of all time.
Written by Don McLean Produced by Ed Freeman Released on American Pie (October 24, 1971) Released as a single on June 17, 1972 Peaked at #12 on Billboard Hot 100 amazonspotifyiTunes
People say that "Vincent" by Don McLean is the most beautiful song in pop music history. That's why it's on the list. Who are these people? Well, there's me, and there's also a professional musician I was friends with back in the day, so yes, "people" do say this.
Why is the song with the most beautiful melody ever recorded not higher on the list? Well, melody isn't everything, and beauty isn't everything. Beautiful music and sweet melodies serve particular purposes. They can put the listener into a good mood, or they can calm the listener. They can make the listener smile. Sometimes they can help illicit strong feelings between two listeners. Beauty is a powerful thing, but music has other powers and magics too.
I don't always choose to listen to beautiful music. (People also say that.) When I do listen to beautiful music, this song will always find its way into the playlist.
If you ask me why this song is so beautiful, I'm not sure I could definitively say. Although I have a rudimentary understanding of music theory from my years playing jazz in high school and college, I don't often want to bother thinking about music theory when I'm enjoying music. I like to think that I like what I like. The Pandora music service once told me that I like songs that have minor keys and subtle harmonies. I thought that was interesting, but it didn't end up changing much about how I choose my music or interact with music.
Generally I treat music the way I treat art: I like it or I don't. When I visit an art museum, I tend to just take in what is around me. Sometimes I'll read a little about the art. Occasionally I'll take guided tours. Most often, though, it's just me and the artwork. I learned that, especially with abstract art, I get no enjoyment from trying to figure out the art. I choose instead to just look at it. If it speaks to me, great! Otherwise I move on to whatever's next. I'm sure there is, so-called, great art that I have seen and passed by, just like there is great music that I have heard and ignored or turned off. There are also songs and paintings that grow on me over time, just as there are others that I eventually grow tired of.
Everyone's definition of beauty is unique to them. We each have our own ideas of what we want to gain from listening to music or viewing artwork. We each seek out different kinds of emotions during those experiences. Some may value beauty above all else. Others thrive on discord and distortion. Others want the art and music to match and amplify their current mood, and some will use the experience to help alter their mood and outlook. Some people may just be happy with all of this safely in the background, only letting their unconscious mind feel and hear and see the beauty surrounding them while they go about their day. Others want to immerse themselves so fully into the art and music of their lives, that it drowns out everything else.
For me, I generally look for music that fits the mood I'm in or that will help me work through whatever I'm doing. If I need to get excited or keep working, I've got music for that. If I'm trying to relax or settle down, I've got music for that. I rarely just sit and listen to music anymore. Usually it's playing in the background, but sometimes I have to turn it off to better focus on what I'm doing. Other times I have to stop what I'm doing to listen to something beautiful or powerful or moving or sad.
So with all that in mind, I come back to this: I find "Vincent" by Don McLean to be more beautiful than any other song I have ever heard. Don McLean, in writing about Vincent Van Gogh, penned a masterpiece. It's sad and beautiful and sweet. His voice and guitar evoke everything that is magical and powerful about beauty, and that's enough.
Right now, "Vincent" by Don McLean is (probably) my 63rd favorite song of all time.
Written by Kevin Rowland, Jim Paterson, Billy Adams Produced by Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley Released on Too-Rye-Ay (July 1982) Released as a single June 25, 1982 Peaked at #1 on Billboard Hot 100 amazonspotifyiTunes
I think I was 26 the first time I had to confront the idea of getting old. What were those circumstances and how do they relate to this song? Allow me to set the stage.
I knew during my final year in college that even though I was graduating with a degree in education, I was not ready to immediately jump into the classroom as a full time teacher. So instead of spending my final semester searching and applying for teaching positions, I arranged to work at one camp during the summer and another in the fall. My hope was that I could turn being a camp counselor into a year round thing for at least a few years before I figured out life, the universe, and everything.
So that's what I did. I continued to my summers in the Ozarks at the camp I had been attending for much of my youth. I then traveled to northern Michigan in the fall to work at another camp. It wasn't quite year round (the camp in Michigan had winter and spring camps as well, but there were significant gaps in between seasons), so the first couple of years, I would stay with my mom in St. Louis between seasons working at Sam's Club the first year, and as a substitute teacher the next year. I loved the camp work, but I was not making nearly enough money to get by, so after those first two years I decided to start focusing on finding a classroom teaching position.
That next fall, I was subbing almost everyday and starting to get to know some of the teachers in a couple of my local districts pretty well. In October, I essentially got two offers, one to take over for my old program director at the camp in Michigan, and the other was to be a full-time sub the rest of the year, putting me first in line to take over for a retiring teacher. I realized that I was not yet ready to give up the camp life, and the promotion would make it more financially viable, so I left my mom's apartment and moved to Michigan full-time (while still spending my summers in the Ozarks).
The next two and a half years were pretty awesome. I was making it work! But eventually all good things come to an end. It was starting to become evident that the only way to move up in the camp world was to move deeper into the office resulting in less time with the kids. More office work would also mean having to fundraise and ask donors for money. That didn't sound too fun; I'm not much of a salesman. So I decided to leave camp life behind and started applying for jobs in St. Louis.
Those camp years will always mean a great deal to me. Looking back, that version of myself felt a lot like peak-level Sam. I was really at my best working with the kids and running the staff in that environment. (Living in a National Lake Shore wasn't too bad either.)
So where does "Come On Eileen" play into this? Well, if you work as a camp counselor long enough, you start to work with your former campers. It's usually a cool experience, but it can lead to some awkwardness. As I got older, I was definitely feeling more disconnected from some of the younger staff, specifically at the summer camp in Missouri. I still enjoyed it, but most of my best friends had moved on with their lives.
At the summer camp, every session included a square dance followed by a "rock" dance. The rules for the rock dance were simple: the songs had to be clean and there were never any slow dances. The square dance was fun because at that point I was usually calling the dance. We did the "Virginia Reel," "Take a Little Peek," and "Nine Pin." We'd throw "Bingo" in the middle as a mixer, and in between the square and rock portions we would do the "Chicken Dance."
It should be noted that I can probably still call those dances to this day, so if anyone reading this wants to have a little square dance sometime, let me know!
So, after calling the square dance, and doing a little chicken dance action, my job as a counselor shifted to trying to encourage our less enthusiastic campers to try to have a little fun out on the dance floor. Like most middle school dances, circles would often form, and individuals would be cajoled into showing off some moves to their friends. It was cheesy and lame and, while not my favorite part of my job, it was still part of the job.
Well, at one point I was trying to dance (it doesn't feel right to call what I do on the dance floor dancing) with some of the other counselors and campers, and the counselor in charge of the music put on "Come On Eileen." While it might not be the most appropriate song for a camp dance if you really study the lyrics, it's still a super fun song with a good beat. I got super excited because this is one of my favorite songs from my youth. It's kind of cheesy and odd and poppy and not really a good representative of my overall musical tastes, but ultimately it's a song that I will always love because it makes me feel good anytime I hear it. (I could probably describe "Walking On Sunshine" by Katrina and the Waves the same way.)
So there I was at this silly camp dance getting all hyped over this song when one of my former campers who was now a junior counselor leans over to me and says, "I have no idea what this song is."
I had no idea how to respond. How could she have never heard this song before?
Well, she was probably about 8 years younger than me, and by the time she was listening to pop radio and watching MTV, most of the world had moved on from Dexys Midnight Runners' singular US hit. That was probably one of the first times in my life that I really thought of myself as being old. Sure I was only 25 or 26, but the fact that someone younger than me had never heard a song that practically everyone my age knew very well was a gut punch.
Music is both tribal and generational. Music from a particular time and place will quite literally get lost in the shuffle as people get older and new music finds its way into the hearts and ears of the next generation of young people. Yes, there are songs that do cross generational and tribal lines, but those generally are exceptions, not the rule. I love a lot of music that is older than me, but there are also a lot of wildly popular songs from bygone eras that sound terrible to me. Even though I know how segmented musical tastes are, I still sometimes feel surprised when great music is not universally loved.
No song is loved by everyone. There never will be that perfect universally loved melody. There are too many backgrounds, opinions, and experiences that define every individual's musical tastes. There are also people who simply don't care about music. I'm not sure how that's possible, but it is.
Even acknowledging all of that, I find it strange to think that people exist who don't like "Jamming" by Bob Marley or "Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson or "Be My Baby" by the Ronettes or "Friends in Low Places" by Garth Brooks or "Crazy" by Patsy Cline or "Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones or "Where the Streets Have No Name" by U2 or "Stardust" by Hoagy Carmichael or "Take Five" by the Dave Brubeck Quartet or "Changes" by 2Pac or "Nuthin But a 'G' Thang" by Dr. Dre or Beethoven's Ninth Symphony or Dvorak's New World Symphony or any other piece of transcendently beautiful music that exists in this world. Everyone in my tribe or my generation may love some of these songs and compositions, but eventually people and music and life move forward with or without you.
I cannot pretend that "Come On Eileen" should be universally loved. It's just the song that first taught me about the generational nature of music. And even though it is now forever tied to this moment that when I recognized my own sense of age and mortality, that's not enough to make me forget how much I love this song.
Right now, "Come On Eileen" by Dexys Midnight Runners is (probably) my 64th favorite song of all time.
Written by Roger Waters Produced by Pink Floyd Released on Wish You Were Here (September 12, 1975) Released as a single on November 15, 1975 amazonspotifyiTunes
Note: this post has two parts. Part I is about the song. Part II is about a protest march I took part in that became a national news story. I will not be offended if you read one part but not the other. I just felt like I needed to document what I experienced, and this seemed like the easiest way to do it.
Part I: The Song
As a young teenager first diving into the world of classic rock, the line "...and by the way, which one's Pink?" seemed like the most clever lyric ever written. The band is Pink Floyd, but none of the members had that name. Didn't this guy realize that?
"Have a Cigar" is currently my favorite Pink Floyd song. As part of the Wish You Were Here album, it tells the story of a band being courted by a sleazy record executive from the perspective of the executive (famously sung by Roy Harper who was not a member of the band). If not for the existence of Biz Markie (who you'll meet later in the list), this satirical masterpiece would probably be the closest thing to a "funny" song on my top 100.
What really helped me fall in love with "Have a Cigar" was the outro guitar solo. David Gilmour is a master. Most people would rate his solo on "Comfortably Numb" as his best (some even go so far as to rate it as the greatest guitar solo of all time). It's hard to argue with that assessment, but this solo is magical in its own way.
As the song and the guitar solo comes to an end, rather than a traditional fade out, the band added an effect that essentially warped this from a hi-fi stereo recording to something that sounded like it was coming through the worst, tinniest single speaker in existence. All of a sudden the listener is hearing the song on the radio on the radio (if that makes sense). If you listen to the album, when the track ends, it sounds like they literally just changed the radio dial in search of something new.
To me, a young teenager diving into the world of classic rock, this was a brand new level of brilliance. I was no longer simply listening to a song, I was a part of a larger experience. Concept albums don't always work, but Pink Floyd had figured out some secret to making everything come together. Pink Floyd is the perfect music for a teenager looking for meaning and relevance in the music they are listening to. The first time listening to one of their albums feels like joining a secret club of cool, smart people. I don't pretend to be cool or smart, but there is a special, magical, powerful feeling that comes from that experience.
Being introduced to Pink Floyd's music for the first time felt important. That is why I know that Pink Floyd's music will be around a lot longer than I will. I know I'm not the first teenager who dove into Pink Floyd's catalog with a sense of awe and wonder, and I know I won't be the last.
Right now, "Have a Cigar" by Pink Floyd is (probably) my 65th favorite song of all time.
Part II: The Protest
Since the killing of George Floyd, I have felt the need to do my part to support the Black Lives Matter movement. For a number of reasons, I did not march or actively participate during the protests that followed the killing of Michael Brown in Ferguson in 2014. There were a few times I thought about driving up to Ferguson to see what was happening, but I ultimately decided not to. I wasn't sure I would end up being more than an observer, and that's not what was needed. What was needed then, and is still needed now, are people ready to be change agents and people willing to exercise their first amendment rights to protest a system that disproportionately targets and punishes minorities.
I am still trying to figure out my place and purpose in this struggle. I have now participated in three protest marches this summer in the St. Louis area. The first was a march organized by local students that went through some of the wealthier suburbs in west St. Louis county. Some people I worked with were there too. The next was a march in St. Charles that I went to with a couple of colleagues and a few of my students. Most recently I marched in the Central West End neighborhood of St. Louis city. For this march I was alone.
All three marches were largely peaceful. During the first march, many of the houses and businesses we passed were holding up signs of support and handing out water and snacks (including, I'm proud to say, my employer). During the march in St. Charles, the group made their way towards the highway and were greeted by about 50 police officers in full riot gear. Counting them and the other officers that were around, it felt like every single cop in St. Charles county had been called down to the protest. I even saw the SWAT team van. There was never a confrontation. The police stopped the traffic on that side of the highway, while the protesters stayed on the exit ramp. Eventually, the protest march turned around and headed back.
I definitely felt uncomfortable during that march when we were on the exit ramp by the highway. I stayed at the top of the exit ramp because I did not know what might happen at the front, and did not want to be caught in the middle of a potential confrontation. Also because there were additional police officers staging themselves on the other side of the exit ramp, it looked like they could have boxed us in. The police did not do anything like that, but this was a very new experience for me. I really didn't know what to expect or what to do. I am still very grateful for the protest organizers who kept things peaceful. I don't think I am ready to thank the police though. Their show of force did not help the situation. I understand why they wanted to keep the protesters off the highway, but the size and scope of their response seemed like overkill. I still baffles me how many instances we continue to see of police around the country responding to protests against excessive police force by using excessive force.
I was grateful for the people I knew who were with me. One of my colleagues helped put me at ease, and they also did a good job of keeping our students out of harms way and away from any potential confrontation. When I wanted to leave early, they were ultimately right in staying and helping keep me there too. The protesters wanted to be heard, and they were. Us leaving or staying didn't make a difference in the grand scheme, but my worst fears were never realized. Staying and being a part of that voice for justice and equality (even being in the back and out of the way) was a good thing.
So, last night I went to join a protest in the city. A couple of days ago, the mayor had read the names and addresses of a handful of activists while giving an address live online (using Facebook Live). While she did not do anything technically illegal, what she did was almost certainly not right. Vocal activists have been targeted in the past with death threats and violence. Giving potential bad actors easy access to activists' personal information is dangerous. The mayor apologized and took the video down, but the damage was done.
As a computer science teacher, this hit me hard. Part of what I teach is the responsible use of technology. Too many politicians do not seem to understand modern technology. This is true of politicians from all political parties. We still have people in Washington who somehow seem proud of the fact that they don't know how to use a desktop computer or how to send an email. It's sheer incompetence. The world is evolving rapidly, and we need representatives at all levels of government who understand modern technologies.
So, I felt the need to take part. This was a relatively small protest (about 400 people). We started in the commercial district in the Central West End with the goal of making our way to the mayor's residence. We started marching that way down Kingshighway where we were joined by another group of protesters. I had decided to stay near the back of the group in an effort to better practice social distancing. (I learned that this is not the best strategy since that's where the smokers hang out too.)
On our way down, I saw protesters turning onto a private gated community. I have been down in this area before and there are some private streets with public sidewalks that I have walked down before. This particular street is not that. Protesters had to break through a closed, locked gate to access the street. (Edit: It should be noted that the gate was unlocked. Protesters simply opened the gate and entered. After the fact, photos emerged showing that the gate had been broken, but all video evidence I have seen does not show protesters breaking the gate to enter the neighborhood. I was not close enough to see this at the time, so when I wrote this section, I simply parroted what was being reported immediately following the protest.) I was unsure about what was happening when someone behind me started yelling about a gun. I was still on Kingshighway, and I looked over the wall to see a man with an AR-15 style rifle standing on the porch of his giant mansion. I also saw a woman running around in front of the mansion pointing and yelling at protesters who were now on their street in front of their giant stone home. Because of where I was standing, I did not realize until later that this woman was pointing at them with a gun, finger on the trigger.
I was immediately afraid for the protesters. I assumed that because they were on a private street, they could be considered trespassers, and Missouri's Stand Your Ground laws could protect this armed couple if something happened. It was also very clear that this couple were not responsible gun owners. If you watch any of the videos taken by protesters, neither of the people holding the guns seemed to know how to properly handle the weapons they were brandishing. At various times, they both pointed their guns at each other without realizing what they were doing.
I still struggle to imagine why either of them thought it was wise to set foot outside their home at all. Their home is a giant stone building. They put themselves, their property, and everyone else in more danger just by stepping outside and mishandling their weapons. I am grateful that no one was hurt, but the more I revisit what I saw and watch the videos, I wonder how something didn't go horribly wrong.
I am privileged to say that I have never had a gun pointed at me. But when the man on the porch leveled his rifle towards the ground, even though I was behind a stone wall, and the gun was not pointed in my direction, I still felt my stomach drop. It was a sickening feeling. Even though I felt like I was out of harms way, many others were not. Yes, the protesters should not have damaged the gate, but the response from this couple was excessive and wrong. It only escalated the situation. They clearly wanted to assert their power, but they ended up looking like foolish children because of how they mishandled their chosen tools.
It was at that point that I realized that this was only a small group of protesters turning down this side street. Most of the group had continued up Kingshighway to the next intersection. I did not feel the need to have a gun pointed at me, so I left that road behind and joined the organizers at the front of the march who were making their way on a safer route to the mayor's house.
We stayed outside the mayors house for a while chanting and protesting. Eventually the barriers that had been put up in front of her house were taken down, but things stayed peaceful. My mom attends a church in that neighborhood. When I talked to her after I got home, she mentioned that the cars that are usually outside the mayor's house were gone. It seems that the mayor wasn't even at home while we were there.
Eventually the protest moved on. I marched on for another couple of blocks before turning around to get my car and go home. When I walked by the mayor's house again, I saw that some people were setting up stencils to paint the word "RESIGN" in big block letters in the street in front of her house.
At this point I am unsure whether I will participate in a protest march again. When I first decided to attend, I had hoped that maybe I could be a peaceful influence. Maybe my presence could help to deescalate and keep things from turning violent and confrontational. After participating, I realized that while I generally am even-keeled and am good at handling somewhat stressful situations, this was something else entirely. Whether it was seeing the police display in St. Charles or that couple with their guns in the city, I was left somewhat frozen. It was too much for me to handle, and I felt helpless to find a way to be helpful in either situation.
Unfortunately, even as I have marched and chanted and listened during these marches, I still feel like more of an observer than an active participant. I feel separate and distanced.
I still very much support what people are marching for. Yes, too many people are killed by the police. Yes, too many of those victims are people of color. Yes, systemic racism needs to be eradicated from our communities, our country, and the world. Yes, the militarization of the police has gotten out of hand. Yes, we need to redistribute money towards social work, education, drug treatment, and rehabilitation efforts. I will continue to ask for these things and support those working to make that kind of change happen. Silence is compliance. I don't want to be just a casual observer on the side, but I feel even less sure of how to do that effectively.
This is not a show. This is not an event. This is real people dying and putting their lives on the line for what is right. Going along for the ride to watch the show is not enough either. I'm still trying to figure out what I can do. I hope anyone reading this is too.
Written by Noddy Holder and Jim Lea Produced by Spencer Proffer Released on Metal Health (March 11, 1983) Released as a single in July 1983 Peaked at #5 on Billboard Hot 100 music videoamazonspotifyiTunes
This song epitomizes all that is glorious about pop metal in the 1980's. It's a fun song with a mildly inappropriately spelled title, a fun video, and the greatest of all sing-a-long choruses every recorded. At the start, the chorus feels fairly typical with the backing vocalists overdubbed a couple of times. It's fun and effective.
By the end, they crank up the overdubs to the point that it sounds like an entire stadium of voices is singing along with the band. It's a trick that was used by a lot of my favorite bands of the era.
"Cum On Feel the Noize" is also one of those songs that many people in the US forget is a cover. This was originally written and recorded by the band Slade in the 1970's. Their version managed to top the charts in the UK, but barely made a dent across the pond. It's bizarre how two versions that have so many similarities can sound so different. The lead singers have extremely similar voices; both recordings overdub the backing vocals; yet somehow I find Quiet Riot's version infinitely superior.
Like so much about the music on this list, one version is familiar and comfortable to me, and the other is just different enough to make me squirm a bit each time I hear it. I'm sure there are quite a few people who are 10-15 years older than me who have similar experiences, except that they love the original and hate the cover. Music is weird like that.
What feels familiar feels right. I love this recording of this song. It rocks. While I usually prefer original songs by their original artists, there are always going to be exceptions. This marks the fourth of seven cover songs that appear on my list. Of those covers, the only ones that have original recordings that don't make me squirm are the songs that I first heard in their original form ("Hey Jude" and "Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World"). It's almost always that first version I hear that is my favorite (whether it's the cover or the original), unless the cover artist does something that fundamentally transforms the song (like Wilson Pickett and Israel Kamakawiwo'ole did).
So I like Quiet Riot's cover of "Cum on Feel the Noize."
Right now, "Cum On Feel the Noize" by Quiet Riot is (probably) my 66th favorite song of all time.
Written by Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter Produced by Grateful Dead and Steve Barncard Released on American Beauty (November 1, 1970) amazonspotifyiTunes
While "Ripple" is one of the oldest songs on my list, it's actually the song in my top 100 that is newest to me. When I started putting this list together, a friend of mine sent me the top 100 lists that he and a few of his buddies had made a few years ago. I took the time to listen to their lists while on a road trip out west. It gave me the opportunity to get to know my friend a bit more while also affording me the chance to see if there were any gems that I had overlooked. For the most part, the lists reminded me just how diverse musical tastes can be. Even people who mostly listen to "classic rock" can have wildly divergent opinions about what classic rock is best.
Three songs from those lists really stuck with me: "Ripple" by Grateful Dead, "Strangers" by The Kinks, and "Every Step of the Way" by Steve Walsh. While the latter two songs failed to make my top 100, both they're in some of my playlists. (I actually keep thinking I should put "Strangers" on the list even now. It's an incredible song. Maybe it'll make the next list.)
Even though I only really found three new songs to add to my collection, I'm now even more paranoid about what else I might be missing. What other hidden gems are just waiting for my ears to find them?
Grateful Dead began their careers as part of the psychedelic music movement, but then they earned their esteemed reputation as a jam band. I first learned of them in the late 1980s because their video for "Touch of Grey" was on MTV a lot. It's a fantastic song and a fun video, but the song and video were all about how old they were, so I wasn't sure how seriously to take them. When I got into trivia and almanacs, I remember being amazed by the fact that they were the top grossing touring act in the country. They made so much more than any other band, and it wasn't close. What was so special about this group of old men?
Of course, they weren't actually that old. Jerry Garcia was in his 40's when I first heard "Touch of Grey." Even knowing that, I have yet to see a video or photo of him where he looks young. When he passed in 1995, he had just turned 53. While that may seem ancient in the realm of popular music, we really didn't get Jerry for nearly long enough. Jerry Garcia is so important to popular music. (My favorite random fact about him is that he played the pedal slide guitar on the Crosby, Stills, Nash. & Young classic "Teach You Children.")
"Ripple" felt both brand new and oddly familiar when I first heard it. It's simple and pleasant and easy. Those who think the Grateful Dead are only good in concert have clearly never listened to their American Beauty album. It is full of great recordings of great songs. "Friend of the Devil" or "Truckin'" may be the most familiar tracks to many, but "Ripple" is their masterpiece.
While the lyrics and melody are pleasant and enjoyable, the real clincher is the sing-a-long chorus that closes the song. I'm a sucker for just about any rock song that's recorded to sound like a whole crowd of people are singing along. The next song on my list actually uses that same trick (in a very different yet just as effective way).
So I'm going to keep listening to music that's new to me. I know there's more stuff out there that is begging for me to hear it. There will probably be plenty of stinkers along the way, but it will be worth it when I find that next great song to throw on a playlist.
Right now, "Ripple" by Grateful Dead is (probably) my 67th favorite song of all time.
