89. Sweet Thing by Van Morrison

"Sweet Thing" by Van Morrison

Written by Van Morrison
Produced by Lewis Merenstein
Released on Astral Weeks (November 29, 1968)
amazon spotify

Today I'm going to share some gratitude. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

I am grateful for my family. My family is spread out across the country, but they have always opened their doors and arms to me. I love my family.

I am grateful for my friends. I don't always do the best job keeping in touch with all of my friends, but I am eternally grateful to the people who have welcomed me into their lives throughout the years. I cherish the time I have been able to spend with each of you, and I am already looking forward to next time, whenever that might be.

I am grateful for my students, both present and past. I have learned so much from you. Hopefully you have learned something too.

I am especially grateful for the international students I have had over the years. You have helped me to gain a greater awareness to the wide world around me. I have appreciated the chance to see how our differences make us stronger, and that we are all truly one great human family.

I am grateful for the opportunity to work with so many fantastic people. It is hard for me to imagine a better group of colleagues than those who work with me now. Thank you for putting up with me and for helping me when I need it. It is humbling to be surrounded by so many brilliant educators.

I am grateful for basketball and the opportunity to coach. I am nearing a decade of coaching, which is hard to believe. Seeing my students grow and overcome adversity on the court is a true privilege.

I am grateful for music and all the beauty that people have shared with the world through their music. Any music that has helped someone experience something sublime is special, regardless of whether I enjoy it or not.

And finally, I am grateful for my pillow: can't get a good night's sleep without it.

I am also grateful for Van Morrison, for writing and recording "Sweet Thing." I don't have much to say about it besides that it is wonderful. It is certainly my favorite Van Morrison song. Critics and popular radio stations might choose other songs of his first, but for me this is his finest work.

"Sweet Thing" by Van Morrison is (probably) my 89th favorite song of all time.

90. Changes by Black Sabbath

"Changes" by Black Sabbath

Music by Black Sabbath (Geezer Butler, Tony Iommi, Ozzy Osbourne, Bill Ward)
Lyrics by Geezer Butler
Produced by Black Sabbath and Patrick Meehan
Released on Vol. 4 (September 25, 1972)
amazon spotify

I first got turned onto "Changes" through this YouTube video of Charles Bradley covering it live in studio. It's a cool video of a soul singer doing a song by a prototypically metal band. While Black Sabbath are the Godfathers of Heavy Metal, "Changes" is not heavy metal. As a ballad, it's actually closer to soul. The first time I listened to Black Sabbath's version, I'm not sure I knew what to think. Why did the band who invented heavy metal, put down their guitars and produce a piano ballad?

Before I go any further into why this song is on my top 100 list, I feel the need to say something. I don't like Ozzy Osbourne. His solo work is terrible (with the exception of "Crazy Train"). I can't listen to his voice for too long before it starts to grate on me, but he is a founding member of one of the greatest bands of all time. I don't know much about how he contributed to their songwriting process (their bassist Geezer Butler wrote almost all their lyrics), but Black Sabbath wrote and recorded some amazing, timeless music. The power of the music they produced is so massive and compelling, that I ended up with two of their songs my top 100, despite what I just said about Ozzy. (The other song of theirs on my list is much more emblematic of their general oeuvre.)

As important as Black Sabbath is as a band in the greater history of rock music, and as much as Ozzy Osbourne annoys me, I'm not sure that either of those things has much to do with why this song is currently one of the 100 favorite songs.  "Changes" just speaks to me. It is a break up song. It's lyrics are simple, sad, and true. Sometimes simple, sad, and true is all a song or poem needs.

I also think that "Changes" is a great example of a fantastic song that was made into an imperfect record. While the song is fantastic (as Charles Bradley displayed), Black Sabbath's record is flawed. The piano part could swing just a bit more. The strings might be a little over the top. Someone other than Ozzy could be singing. Even with all of those apparent flaws, when this song comes on my playlist, I still find myself happy to listen. The song itself is good enough, that it can overcome a lack of vision and execution in the recording studio.

I love this song. I may not love if forever, but right now I do. If I remade this list tomorrow, I'm not sure that this song would still be on it. Right now, though, when I listen to it, it still feels great. I still love it.

Right now "Changes" by Black Sabbbath is (probably) my 90th favorite song of all time.

91. Two Weeks by Grizzly Bear

"Two Weeks" by Grizzly Bear

Written by Ed Droste, Daniel Rossen, Chris Taylor, Christopher Bear
Produced by Chris Taylor
Released on Veckatimest (May 26, 2009)
Released as single on June 1, 2009
amazon spotify music video

Released in 2009, "Two Weeks" is the most recently produced song on my top 100 list. Growing up, I never expected to be out of touch with popular music. Even when I was getting into classic rock, I still listened to and was aware of new music that was out there. Sometimes it was just to scoff at it. Sometimes there was cool stuff that I liked. Now, I simply don't really care. How did this happen?

My parents were both fans of music. My dad grew up listening to the great swing bands of his youth and continued listening to jazz throughout his early adulthood. When I started playing the saxophone in elementary school, he told me about his favorite alto player, Paul Desmond, who famously played for the Dave Brubeck Quartet. My dad loved the Time Out album (released in 1959). Even his love of jazz had its limits though. When I played in the jazz band at Lindenwood, he got really annoyed that my band director only had us playing more modern stuff. He even went so far as to donate charts to the university for some swing classics. I'm pretty sure his musical tastes never ventured very far out of the 1950s.

My mom is a little different. She was in high school when the Beatles played on The Ed Sullivan Show. At the time, my mom was attending a boarding school, so all the girls were down in the dorm living room watching on the communal TV. The way my mom told it, once the Beatles started playing, just like the girls in the audience, most of the girls in the dorm started screaming. My mom was not one of those girls. She actually wanted to hear the music, so she tried to tell the other girls to be quiet. Her efforts unfortunately were fruitless.

My mom continued listening to music into the late sixties and seventies. She was more aware than my dad of what was happening in music when I was growing up. I remember her being the one to tell me when we were living in New Jersey that Bon Jovi and Whitney Houston were both from New Jersey too. She at least had a finger to the pulse. She certainly wasn't listening to the same stuff I was, but she was still finding music she enjoyed. Even now, she loves supporting local jazz artists and inspirational music, including the work of my amazing sister (her step daughter) Julia Wade. Keep up the great work sis!

As I got older, my tastes evolved, and I continued looking for more music. Whether it was something new or something old that I had missed, the search never seemed to stop. There was too much beauty and artistry to ignore. I kept buying CDs and mp3s and cultivating playlists. But then, sometime around the time I turned 30, it stopped mattering as much. I had my collection, and it seemed like it was enough. Sure I would buy some music occasionally, but it was often stuff that I had wanted previously, but just hadn't bought yet; just rounding out my collection. Not much new music.

If someone asked for my opinion of the greatest albums of each decade from the 60s on, I could at least come up with decent answers for each of the decades up until our current decade. I'm not even sure I could name 10 albums from the 2010s. There are a handful of albums from the first few years  of the decade, but after that only "Awaken, My Love!" by Childish Gambino has made any sort of impact on me. I've become my father. I'm content with the music I like, and that's about all I need.

What happened to me? How did I become this shell of a music lover? Will I ever care about new music again? Every passing year I feel like I can relate more and more to Abe Simpson's classic quote:

I used to be with it, but then they changed what it was. Now what I'm with isn't it, and what's it seems weird and scary to me. It'll happen to you.

So here I am, writing about my favorite songs, and everything is old. Only 17 out of my top 100 were released after the oldest student I am currently teaching was born, and (of course) that number can only get smaller.

But this song, "Two Weeks" is fantastic, regardless of when it was released. It has magical harmonies and a chill vibe. Grizzly Bear are a bit avant-garde, and I haven't found much more from them that I like, but "Two Weeks" is simply awesome.

Right now "Two Weeks" by Grizzly Bear is (probably) my 91st favorite song of all time.

92. Ozzie Guillen by Serengeti

"Ozzie Guillen" by Serengeti

Written by David Cohen
Produced by Midas Wells
Released on Dennehy (2006)
spotify amazon

I first met Serengeti sometime around 2004 or 2005. He had just played a show at the Hi-Pointe in St. Louis. I went with a few of my friends who were more familiar with him than I was. One of them had played me a bootlegged version of his song "Dennehy," which was both hilarious and excellent.

After the show, outside the venue, I was talking with Midas Wells, one of Serengeti's collaborators. I mentioned how much I loved "Dennehy." He was like, cool, I produced that. Then he mentioned that he had produced an entire album for Serengeti. I said cool. He handed me Noticeably Negro. I handed him 15 bucks. Everyone went home happy.

Come to think of it, I'm not sure that I actually met Serengeti that night. I'm starting to wonder if I ever talked to him. I definitely met Midas Wells, but I'm not sure if Serengeti was there when we talked. I might have been introduced to him before the show, but I'm not sure.

At that time, I was spending most of the year in Michigan, so when I was in St. Louis, I was spending as much time as I could with my best friend. What he was spending a lot of his time doing was live art at local hip-hop shows. He was doing this primarily for a couple of guys we had gone to high school with, who were now trying to make it as rappers. It was a fun time, and a scene I never would have expected to get heavily involved with. I met a bunch of really cool people, got to hang out back stage a few times, and listened to some really cool local music and occasionally some not so good local music. Serengeti, even though he was from Chicago, had collaborated with some of these local guys I was getting to know. This is why I think I met him at some point, but because neither of us were living full-time in St. Louis then, I might not have.

Here's what I do remember. At the time of that show of his that I went to see, "Dennehy" had not yet been officially released, but it had been passed around a ton. When Serengeti was doing his set, in between songs, people in the crowd kept yelling for "Dennehy." I could tell he didn't really want to, or at least hadn't planned to. Finally towards the end of his set, once it seemed that everyone in that tight crowd was chanting for it, he did went ahead and signaled for his DJ to play the track. The crowd went bananas and Serengeti started rapping. At one point, as I'm rapping along, I realized that he couldn't remember all the lyrics. I swear he started looking at me, expecting me to help him with the lyrics, but I didn't know all the words either. It was kind of a disaster, but it didn't really matter. The people heard "Dennehy," everyone loved it too much to care, and we all went home happy.

I don't love everything that Serengeti has released. His Noticeably Negro album, that I mentioned earlier, was good, and had a couple songs that I liked, but overall it was not quite my style. When he finally released a Dennehy album, I was excited and picked it up. It too is hit and miss, but has more stuff I like including a few more songs where Serengeti puts on his 'Kenny' persona like he did for "Dennehy." Kenny is basically one of those guys from the old SNL Super-Fan skits: a mustached, brat-eating Chicago sports fan. Apparently that guy also loves the movies of the great Brian Dennehy. I'm not sure I would have put that together, but now that I think about it, it makes pretty good sense.

"Ozzie Guillen" takes that Kenny character to the next level. I love the laid back beat and the flow of the story. I love that in the wake of the White Sox' World Series triumph, he can't help but scream Ozzie Guillen's name. I love that he drinks O'Doul's, and I love that he loves his wife. It's a happy song and a funny song and it makes me smile when I hear it. It also reminds me of a crazy time in my life when I was an underground St. Louis hip hop super-fan.

Right now "Ozzie Guillen" by Serengeti is (probably) my 92nd favorite song of all time.

93. Something About You by Boston

"Something About You" by Boston

Written by Tom Scholz
Produced by John Boylan and Tom Scholz
Released on Boston (August 25, 1976)
amazon spotify youtube

Boston's first album was everywhere when I was a teenager. Whenever I looked through any of my friends' CD collections, I would almost always find Boston's self-titled debut, which makes sense because it is an amazing album. Back in the days of CDs, albums needed to be good. I hated buying an album only to discover that it only had two good songs. Boston by Boston is one of those epic rarities, an album with no bad songs. You felt safe putting this into your CD player knowing you never had to press skip. Its only downside was that its run-time was just 37 minutes.

It's actually somewhat surprising to me that anyone makes albums anymore. With streaming services providing cultivated playlists on demand, is there any reason to release an entire album? Will people actually listen to it? I still find myself buying and listening to albums, but I'm pretty sure that makes me the exception. I grew up with album oriented rock being the template, so I don't know any better.

The enduring greatness of Boston's best songs can be attributed to two things: Tom Scholz and Brad Delp. Everything great about Boston starts with Scholz. His guitar sound and songwriting defined the band. He actually recorded everything in his own home studio, playing all the instruments except the drums. His guitar sound, soaring and heavily layered, is simply spectacular. And the way he uses his unique sound is perfect: pick drags, harmonized lead lines, and crunchy riffs. These are all things I love. But his sound and vision could have been for naught if he hadn't found the perfect singer to bring it all together.

Brad Delp's beautiful high voice brings Scholz's melodies to life. However, as much as I love his voice, it's nearly impossible to sing along with. Boston's hooks are so catchy, I simply have to try, but eventually Delp reaches for that next level. Every single time. Every song. I'm driving around and singing along and stretching my voice. I'm feeling good, and then he just goes that one step higher, and it's all over. But I keep trying anyway.

"Something About You" is easily my favorite Boston song. It pumps me up. It has a great melody, soaring guitars, and it rocks. Even when I fail to reach that high note, I can't help but feel good about everything.

Right now "Something About You" by Boston is (probably) my 93rd favorite song of all time.

94. Ride wit Me (feat. City Spud) by Nelly

"Ride wit Me" by Nelly feat. City Spud

Written by Cornell Haynes Jr., Lavell Webb, Jason Epperson
Produced by Jason Epperson
Released on Country Grammar (June 27, 2000)
Released as single on March 10, 2001
Peaked at #3 on Billboard Hot 100
Warning: Explicit Lyrics
amazon spotify music video

When I was in college I got pulled into an argument between two of my fraternity brothers. Though I didn't know the significance of this at the time, one was from St. Louis, and the other was from California. The argument was Nelly vs. Snoop Dogg. Even today, I don't listen to much hip hop, but at that time I listened to almost none. All I knew then, was that The Chronic was maybe the greatest rap album ever released, and Snoop was a huge part of the reason why. Nelly, on the other hand, was to that point a one hit wonder, and that one hit didn't seem very good. I sided with my California friend in a way that was probably pretty condescending to my St. Louis brother.

Why would anyone try to put Nelly on that kind of level?

Have you ever had one of those moments where, all of a sudden something that had confused you earlier suddenly makes sense? The 2000 MTV Video Music Awards were one of those moments for me. Nelly was from St. Louis! I had no idea. When Nelly came out to perform, even though he wasn't wearing a shirt, the rest of his crew were wearing Cardinals, Blues, and Rams jerseys. Now that argument from a few months earlier made sense. Of course my friend from St. Louis would think that a St. Louis rapper was an all-time great.

St. Louisans will defend their own. Nelly is from St. Louis and had a hit record. Of course he's the best. Right? While that may not be something I believe, I will defend St. Louis' tradition in popular music until I die. Scott Joplin wrote his greatest ragtime melodies here. Miles Davis rose out of East St. Louis to become jazz music's most innovative and influential trumpeter and composer. Clark Terry was the first black musician to play with NBC's orchestra and the Tonight Show Band. St. Louis can make a strong case for being the birthplace of rock and roll because of the work and enduring legacies of Chuck Berry and Ike and Tina Turner. The early 2000's saw a resurgence of St. Louis talent. Nelly led the way, but the Urge, Chingy, Uncle Tupelo, and others made many a St. Louisan proud.

While most of Nelly's catalog never resonated strongly with me, "Ride wit Me" is the exception. It is  smooth. It grooves. It's simply a fun song. I was not expecting it to end up in my top 100, but as I was putting this list together, other songs that I love just couldn't quite bump Nelly from this spot. Maybe it's that he's from St. Louis. Maybe I wanted to have just one more hip hop song on my list. Maybe I wanted an excuse to attempt to compare Nelly with all those other transcendently talented St. Louis musicians. Or maybe this song is just that good.

Right now "Ride with Me" by Nelly is (probably) my 94th favorite song of all time.

95. Slip Slidin' Away by Paul Simon

"Slip Slidin' Away" by Paul Simon

Written by Paul Simon
Produced by Paul Simon and Phil Ramone
Released on Greatest Hits, Etc. (November 1977)
Released as single October 1977
Peaked at #5 on Billboard Hot 100
amazon spotify

When I got sick as a child, my mom would sing hymns in order to comfort me. Music--good music--has always been comforting to me. The best way that I can describe "Slip Slidin' Away" is to say that it is musical comfort food. As soon as those opening notes are sung, I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief. I love songs that give me that feeling.

I have always loved Paul Simon, as a songwriter and performer. His video for "You Can Call Me Al" was one of my favorite music videos growing up. He seemed really cool. The song featured silly lyrics, fun horns, and cool African rhythms. The video was just Paul Simon and Chevy Chase being silly. What more could a 9 year old watching MTV want?

This song is on this list because it is beautiful, because it relaxes me, because I love when I hear it. That's all I need to say.

Right now "Slip Slidin' Away" by Paul Simon is (probably) my 95th favorite song of all time.