Monday, December 28, 2015

Top 100 Best Songs of the 1990s: Part 7 (40-31)

And Iiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeiiiiii will always... try to finish this list on time!

40. "Everlong" - Foo Fighters

At first glance, "Everlong" sounds like a generic grunge song by a generic grunge group. Indeed, though the Foo Fighters certainly have longevity, they're far from the most talented or creative grunge group. Dave Grohl's songwriting typically operates at the 6/10 level, being overly reliant on standard pop/rock chords and lyrical clichés. But "Everlong" transcends most of these clichés to create one of the most endearing and popular rock songs of the 90s. People love this song, from online music critics like Todd Nathanson to legendary late night comedian David Letterman. Indeed, "Everlong" played out David Letterman's very last Late Show. Why? Well, in the pantheon of great grunge songs, "Everlong" has a pathos that is truly hard to match.

In many ways, "Everlong" is the stereotypical grunge song: vague lyrics, soft verses, loud chorus, dark aesthetic, distorted guitars, scraped vocals. But "Everlong" operates on a grander scale than most other grunge songs. Nothing feels forced or false: every strum of the guitar and strike of the drum skins is intentional and emotional. The build-up to the chorus might just be the finest in grunge history, shifting from verses dependent on suspended chords to a major key chorus. The main riff incorporates slight funk elements, accentuating each beat as to produce a choppy feeling only resolved by the legato of the main melody. The climax is practically jubilant, a moment of musical bliss.

Yet, within all this, what exactly is "Everlong" really about? In simple terms, "Everlong" is a rock and roll love song, or, to be unnecessarily more specific, a grunge love song. It's a desperate song of two people, both wild, hopeless, possibly drunk, deciding to have the night of their lives. In one moment of sexual bliss, all else fades away: "And I wonder.../if everything could ever feel this real forever/if anything could ever be this good again." As I see it though, "Everlong" is much more sinister than its beautiful chorus would make it out to be: after all, the song nearly always retreats back into suspended chords and the final cadence is imperfect. The key part of the interpretation is the sentence, "she sang." Most people interpret this term to mean that Dave Grohl is enjoying the full beauty of the moment, as if the girl is singing. However, as I see it, the "she sang" could imply that all the other lyrics are sung not by Dave Grohl, but by the girl. Perhaps the girl is the only one experiencing feeling, and Dave Grohl is merely recanting her experiences. Is "Everlong," then, the reflection of someone who is apathetic while in a brief relationship with someone who is elated, or is it the somber reflection of someone remembering the one other person in his life who's ever expressed true joy or happiness? Either way, "Everlong" becomes a far more somber affair when this latter interpretation comes into play.

While the lyrics to "Everlong" are quite powerful, the musicianship is the true "champion" here. Dave Grohl might not be an expert guitarist, but the layering of his guitar with Pat Smear's is extremely effective; the rhythm-lead guitar combination never fails. The drums, though, are where "Everlong" truly shines. Hi-hat trills haven't sounded so frantic since Joy Division's "Transmission." Contrary to popular belief, Dave Grohl is not the best drummer of the 90s (that would be Matt Cameron of Soundgarden and Pearl Jam), but he is nonetheless a fantastic one. His performance here is probably his most definitive. The bass is steady and pulsing, providing a strong aesthetic to the song. Best of all, the band actually has a real sense of crescendo, building up each chorus slightly more than the last. When most songs are content to merely repeat the chorus with no variation, the Foo Fighters went the next step and made the song truly dynamic.

"Everlong" is far and away the Foo Fighters' crowning achievement. While the band's 2000s output is far from terrible, nothing comes close to "Everlong"'s legacy. Perhaps every slightly above average deserves one truly extraordinary song within an otherwise standard output, such as Carly Simon's "You're So Vain," Bob Seger's "Night Moves," and Tom Petty's "Free Fallin'." "Everlong" is the grunge song nearly everyone loves. Indeed, as with "Nothing Compares 2 U,"  I've never heard of someone who can bring themselves to hate this song. It's an excellent grunge song from an otherwise fairly decent rock band.

39. "It Was a Good Day" - Ice Cube

My personal favorite rhetorical device is praeteritio: the process of communicating a message by explicitly stating that one will not communicate that message. Think along the lines of a politician stating "I need not discuss my opponent's inconsistent record on gun control" in the middle of a larger speech. Ice Cube's "It Was a Good Day" is an entire song of praeteritio. The lyrics themselves are not particularly extraordinary in and of themselves, but the entire song gains its power through the story that it does not tell. One can merely look at the song as if it is re-telling a better than average day, or one can see it as a song desperately trying to escape a life that is practically hell on earth.

Ice Cube is an alumnus from one of the most influential (more in terms of their membership than what they actually did; Public Enemy did beat them to the punch) groups in hip-hop history: N.W.A. He was the first to leave the group, establishing perhaps the single most consistent career of any member of the group. After all, he was the group's original lyricist. Albums like Amerikkka's Most Wanted and Death Certificate still hold up as some of the best rap records of the 90s. Most of their success comes from Ice Cube's dominant persona. His flow is typically commanding and furious, immediately drawing in the listener's attention. After all, this is the man who delivered the first verse on "F*** tha Police." But "It Was a Good Day" is practically somber in its flow. Ice Cube's inflections are pronounced and his rhythms are strong, but a sense of defeatism lingers throughout the piece, as if all the joys of this one day are about to disappear.

The lyrics of "It Was a Good Day" are particularly heavy. Most of the song recants the simple pleasures of the day - a non-Muslim mother finally paying attention to her son's fasting principles, a fun game of basketball, watching rap music videos. But, every so often, "good" ceases to be come "good"; rather, it simply becomes the absence of "bad": "Hooked it up for later as I hit the door/Thinking, 'Will I live another twenty-four?,'" "Plus, nobody I know got killed in central L.A./Today was a good day," "Cause just yesterday them fools tried to blast me/Saw the police and they rolled right past me." When the pleasure of not having one's life at risk ranks up with the simple joys of life as "good things," one knows Ice Cube is living a dangerous and spiritually draining life. The coup de grace comes in the last verse, in which Ice Cube almost enters a dreamlike fantasy, in which he drives around drunk and sees in the sky "the Goodyear Blimp, and it read 'Ice Cube's a pimp.'" Of course, this is fantasy, as if Ice Cube is wishing for something more: fame, repeated sexual prowess, something to recognize his existence beyond his brief time on earth. Finally, Ice Cube comes back to reality with the most sobering line of them all: "Today I didn't even have to use my A.K./I got to say it was a good day."  It's a punch to the gut after a fairly grandiose and arrogant final verse.

The music for "It Was a Good Day" is fittingly somber. The song revolves around a sample of the Isley Brothers' "Go for Your Guns," taking the opening guitar run and turning it into a descending drone. While the original riff serves to set up the sexual nature of the Isley Brothers track, the revised sample practically dies away each time it is repeated, showing the decay of a beautiful day into an empty remainder. "It Was a Good Day" even quotes the "ooh wah" vocal at the beginning of "Go for Your Guns," but it, too, is updated. The original is a breath of sexual calm; the rap version is a sigh of defeat. Though the guitar is bright, the descending melodic line ultimately creates a depressing atmosphere.

"It Was a Good Day" quickly became one of the most legendary hip hop tracks of the 1990s. Sadly, it seems to have only become as popular as it has due to its not having as much swearing as its actual tremendous quality. Furthermore, most people don't see "It Was a Good Day" for as dark a song as it actually is. Yet I love "It Was a Good Day" for telling the listener all about its harsh reality without offering a single word on the subject. It's an oration of which Cicero would be proud.

38. "Buddy Holly" - Weezer

Oh, Weezer. Such an easy band to like but such a hard band to love. This is the band that gave us the classic Weezer (Blue Album), the edgy Pinkerton, and the fun Weezer (Green Album). They've also given us the disappointing Weezer (Red Album) and the nigh unlistenable Raditude. That said, those latter two albums both came when the band had long since passed its prime: they're a classic case of a great band aging badly. But their older material sounds as good now as it did back in 1994. Though indie fans seem tilted towards "Say It Ain't So" and "Undone (The Sweater Song)," I have always had more fondness for "Buddy Holly." And it's not just because I'm a big Buddy Holly Fan or because it has one of the best music videos in history: no, I've chosen "Buddy Holly" because it represents Weezer at their musical and emotional peak.

"Buddy Holly" takes a tremendous risk from the bat: the rhythm is practically static. The entire song proceeds along a single guitar chug accentuating every beat - the same rhythmic technique as used by terrible post-grunge bands like Nickelback and Creed (granted, neither of those bands were popular yet, but that's aside the point). But, somehow, "Buddy Holly" makes it work. I think the musical strength comes down to two key factors: the strength of the melody and the slight variations. Rivers Cuomo is one of the strongest melodists still working in rock music; the static rhythms of "Buddy Holly" serve to enhance his melodic line. The production makes the singing pop even when Cuomo's voice cracks. Additionally, each verse and chorus does something slightly different. Be it the tremolo on the synthesizer after the first stanza, the distorted guitar twangs on the bridge, or the syncopated rhythm in the final chorus, each little change-up to the routine gives "Buddy Holly" a bit more personality.

Indeed, if "Buddy Holly" has one thing, it's personality. Rivers Cuomo has never disguised the neediness of Weezer. Now, if "Everlong" is a grunge fan's love song, "Buddy Holly" is a nerd's love song. The narrator of "Buddy Holly" knows he is dating (or is at least close friends with) a girl who is far out of his league. This explains the juxtaposition of him as Buddy Holly and the girl as Mary Tyler Moore: she is a confident feminist icon who ruled 30 years of television, whereas he is a doofy 50s rock and roll star. The song is deliberately awkward: it's clear that the narrator is joking when he describes his naysayers as "homies." He knows he's not "gangster" enough to use that word without sounding like a moron. But he's embraced his silly, uncool nature to the point where he ends up incredibly endearing. In fact, the character is so good that I can ignore Rivers Cuomo's genuinely terrible singing.

Weezer are best when they are writing simple pop ditties imbued with hidden character; "Buddy Holly" is the apex of their songwriting and artistic craft. The band doesn't aspire to be much greater than what they are: a fun band for college kids seeking an emotional release. Certainly, Pinkerton put listeners at a shock, but that's a pleasant aberration from Weezer's other work. It's songs like "Buddy Holly" that Weezer does better than anybody else: for that, they make their way into the upper half of the list.

37. "Black" - Pearl Jam

Pearl Jam is one of the four artists with more than one song on this list. Does this mean Pearl Jam is the best of the grunge groups? No. Rather, Pearl Jam is the grunge group with the most diverse sound. On the one hand, they are a standard Seattle grunge group - albeit with better songwriting craft than most of their temporaries. On the other, they're the primer arena rock band of the 90s. We'll take a look at this latter persona later on in the countdown, but let's focus first on their grunge sound. A lot of songs come to mind - "Betterman," "Daughter," "Yellow Ledbetter" - but "Black" ultimately leaves the greatest impact on the romantically-inclined listener. For few songs capture the feeling of unrequited love so well as this one.

"Black" first appears on Ten as a sort of denouement to the previous song, the hard-hitting "Why Go." Stone Gossard makes the guitar sound as if played through an old, static-filled radio, much like David Gilmour on "Wish You Were Here." Though the tone of the instruments improves throughout the song, even incorporating heavier power chords, the somber tone is sustained throughout. My personal favorite musical feature is the tripling of the melodic line: Eddie Vedder's singing, Rick Parashar's piano, and Mike McCready's lead guitar. When all three parts sync up on the chorus, the effect is both bleak and magical.

"Black" also epitomizes all of Pearl Jam's "unique" (as in "easily mockable") elements, as in the case of Eddie Vedder's singing and lyric writing. Eddie Vedder isn't that bad a singer, as he certainly has great control of his resonance chamber. However, he complements his good resonance with having terrible vowel formation, creating blended diphthongs that are admittedly fun to impersonate. "Black" features Vedder at his most vocally over-the-top: it is somewhat funny hearing him pronounce "everything" like "ehvereethaaeeeang." The lyrics too are somewhat pretentious and overly inclined towards postmodern silliness: "all five horizons revolved around her soul." There's more than one horizon? The horizon can revolve around something? The details are very shallow; thus, I can see why someone might actually dislike "Black."

Yet I maintain that "Black" is great in spite of and because of its silliest elements. The song hinges on its incredible ending: a whirlwind of screams, guitar pulses, descending lines, and an interminable chord progression. The first half of the song is very much an "arty" teen's love song, using shallow imagery to try to communicate the feeling of loneliness. Yet, in the very end, the sheer agony breaks through: "I know someday you'll have a beautiful life/I know you'll be a star in someone else's sky/But why, why, why can't it be mine?" In that moment, all the pretentiousness dissolves a way, as if the narrator has finally truly come to terms with his grief. He can't hide it in purple prose; it simply must break forth in a virtual burst of sobbing. The whole band plays into the feeling, creating an atmosphere of chaos as the song's structure practically breaks down.

"Black" is one of the emotional centers of Pearl Jam's career, becoming one of the band's most popular songs in spite of them intentionally not releasing the song as a single. Eddie Vedder did not want "Black" to be tainted by the hands of studio execs who would try to alter the track for radio time. But raw emotional power can bring attention to any song, even if the band is actively trying to dull its success. "Black" has become one of the most acclaimed grunge songs ever, overshadowing many of Pearl Jam's actual singles. It's a classic grunge song in which the spirit overcomes the lyrics to produce one of the most moving experiences in 90s music.

36. "I See a Darkness" - Bonnie "Prince" Billy

Can a song be depressing and joyful at the same time? If it is possible, then "I See a Darkness" is certainly the epitome of the genre. Most music critics praise only the bleakness of the original track; after all, this song is so dark and gloomy that not even a dying Johnny Cash could make a darker version. But those same critics seem to ignore the self-affirming elements at work in this track. Though much of my interpretation of "I See a Darkness" hinges on Will Oldham's re-imagining of this track from 2012's Now Here's My Plan, I do think the more hopeful perspective on the 90s "most depressing" song brings some subtler elements to light.

Upon first listen, "I See a Darkness" reeks of all the bad elements of indie music. It's a white guy with an acoustic guitar, singing a song about pain and depression, using a small recording space, and singing with a flat voice. Hell, the eponymous album "I See a Darkness" comes from got a 10.0/10.0 from Pitchfork, the online magazine that epitomizes the excesses of the indie genre, upon release no less; those albums never stand up to time. Yet, as a song at least, "I See a Darkness" deserves the accolades: unlike most of its indie rock brethren, it drips with sincerity. Even better, its pain is actually expressed intelligently and subtly.

Much of "I See a Darkness" takes place within the narrator's mind, with Will Oldham's singing all the main lyrics of the song, with a background vocalist singing his true thoughts in the background: "Well, you're my friend (that's what you told me/and can you see (what's inside of me)." Though Oldham is able to discuss his depression with his friend, he knows no one can see his true thoughts other than himself. The darkness looms throughout all the verses, an empty pit of depression. Yet, oddly enough, the chorus - the part of the song that ultimately expresses the awareness of this darkness - is major and practically hopeful. How does this work?

As I see it, "I See a Darkness" uses its almost bright chorus to make an important statement about the self in relation to both depression and others. Depression is an undeniably frightening and terrible phenomenon, one unwishable upon anyone. However, emerging from that depression can give someone a greater sense of the self, an awareness of oneself in relation to one's mind and the outside world. The chorus of "I See a Darkness" seems to be an awakening from the depression, with Oldham realizing the love others have for him, if at least Platonically, in addition to gaining a sense of self in relation to the rest of the world. Such an explanation serves to justify the more upbeat 2012 version of the song. Many critics have called it too upbeat: as I see it, Oldham is accentuating the more hopeful elements of the song for an age that generally requires more hope than the 90s.

"I See a Darkness" might be bleak, but it's a far more profound song than its indie label and dark lyrics would suggest. It's an anthem of depression, a rallying cry for facing the pain that we face rather than a song merely about wallowing in one's misery. As a result, it's much more effective than other sad songs of the 90s. I've known people who have legitimately used both versions of this song to face their own difficulties and come out stronger for it. For that, I'm forever in this song's debt.

35. "Basket Case" - Green Day

I understand the Green Day hate. To an extent, I, too, hate Green Day. They favor their image over their authenticity. Their songwriting is inconsistent. Their album work ranges from the mediocre (American Idiot) to the lamentable (21st Century Breakdown). Their fans are practically rabid in their adoration, paying no heed to any of the many legitimate criticisms one can levee at the band. They have overshadowed many other, better punk bands.

That said, if not for the Buzzcocks' Singles Going Steady, I'd be hard pressed to find a better pop punk album than Dookie. And, if not for, well, anything by the Buzzcocks, I'd be hard pressed to find a better pop punk song than "Basket Case."

"Basket Case" has plenty of personality from the very first note, starting with solo voice and electric guitar: it's a daring opening for a punk song. After all, even the Buzzcocks, the grandfathers and masters of pop punk, wouldn't start a song with such a cold open. From there on out, "Basket Case" just keeps growing. Tré Cool practically turns the snare drum into a machine gun with blisteringly fast paradiddles, while Billie Joe Armstrong steps up the power chords. Meanwhile, Mike Dirnt adds the cool factor with a few snide-centered bass runs. "Basket Case" might be about madness, but it certainly expresses said madness with swagger and and fury. The entire band operates at full steam throughout the entire track: something that cannot be said of their other good, but not great, hits like "Longview" and "When I Come Around." "Basket Case" just tries harder.

Lyrically, "Basket Case" is also the strongest song on Dookie. "Do you have the time to listen to me whine" is perhaps the most classic opening line of a post-70s punk song: it presents a narrator that is at once obnoxious yet deeply aware of his own flaws. The narrator of "Basket Case" is, in all likelihood, not insane. Rather, he's just young and frustrated, and his parents would prefer to medicate him rather than solve his problems. Psychiatrists use self-fulfilling Freudian psychoanalysis to criticize his sex life. Prostitutes bemoan his lack of care about sex and overemphasis on his emotions. In all likelihood, the narrator is just going through an emotional phase. The bridge is the lynch-pin here: "Grasping to control, so I better hold on." Finally, the narrator gets a sense of where he needs to turn: self-control.

Raunchy, snide, punchy, and vicious, "Basket Case" has all the elements needed for a great pop punk song. Nay, it's one of the greatest pop punk songs, right up there with the Clash's "Should I Stay or Should I Go?," the Buzzcocks' "Ever Fallen In Love?," and the Ramones' "I Wanna Be Sedated." It's got tons of energy, a great hook, strong (albeit flat) vocals, precise drumming, and subtle lyrics. There's not much more one could ask for. Green Day might have gotten a bit too big for their jeans in the 2000s, but their 90s output stands for itself as one of the great catalogues of pop punk music. They might not have deserved to enter the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on their first year of eligibility, but they certainly deserved to get in at some point.

34. "Don't Speak" - No Doubt

Many Internet music critics are big fans of the ska crossover scene that temporarily gained traction in the late 90s. Unfortunately, I don't consider myself one of those people. Groups like Less than Jake and Reel Big Fish do nothing for me. Even the most popular band of the genre, Sublime, grates on me; while the band does have impressive guitar work, the misogyny in most of their songs is truly astounding. The only ska crossover band I really enjoy is No Doubt, and even then, I'm more a fan of their straightfoward rock songs than their ska hits. Give me "Just a Girl" and "Ex-Girlfriend" over "Spiderwebs" any day. Then again, "Don't Speak" is neither a ska hit nor a rock song: it's a flamenco inspired break-up ballad that became one of the most played radio hits of the 90s. And it's bar none their best song.

"Don't Speak" earns points with me from the get-go by making an implicit allusion to Aerosmith's "Dream On" - one of my absolute favorite songs - with the opening guitar chords. Indeed, the guitar shines throughout "Don't Speak." The guitar tone, strum pattern, and guitar solo all allude to flamenco music and Spanish guitar - once again, No Doubt expresses their musical variety as compared to other ska punk bands. The vibrato of the cello on the track is particularly potent, alluding to the underlying pain tearing the lovers apart. Indeed, one of my favorite elements of the song is the extremely melodic cello part in the second verse, acting as the true melody of the song while Gwen Stefani's singing takes on a more rhythmic role. Best of all, Adrian Young doesn't go grand-standing on the drums: the worst thing he could have done was interrupt the excellent melody with unnecessary drum fills. Rather, the only time he steps up the percussion is the lead-up to the chorus, so as to build up the drama and cue the modulation.

Even Gwen Stefani, a singer whose voice I find wholly disposable and somewhat grating, excels on "Don't Speak." Normally, Stefani is unable to project any emotion other than petulance or arrogance: songs such as "Spark the Fire," "Hey Baby," and "Hollaback Girl" speak for themselves. Yet she's practically crying on "Don't Speak." Though simple triad harmonies are the default for pop music, her doubled harmonies are nonetheless effective: her vocal lines resonate as to make the chord feel much more passionate. "Don't Speak" is not a lyrical masterpiece, but Gwen Stefani makes every word and every improvisation count.

Yet only one feature explains "Don't Speak"'s high placement on this list: the bridge. Simply put, the bridge to "Don't Speak" is the single most cathartic moment of any 90s pop anthem. I'm not sure what makes it so effective. Is it the forward momentum of the preceding chorus? Is it the harmonies? Is it the words: "it's all ending, better stop pretending who we are?" Is it the stuttering guitar and cello line? Is it the resolution to the final suspension? A combination of all of these elements? I'm not sure what the answer is, but the bridge of this song feels truly massive; I could listen to it on loop and never get tired of it.

Fans of 90s pop music usually point to songs like "Don't Speak" as the high watermark of pop songwriting during the decade. While there are undoubtedly several 90s pop songs that I like more, some of which even made the top ten, I can see why "Don't Speak" is often cited. Not only was it one of the most played songs of the decade, it's a song that spoke to plenty of people at the right time. Since the 90s were not a very problematic decade for most of the West on a social level, most pop listeners felt their greatest pain on the emotional level. Thus, pop songs like "Don't Speak" came out at just the right time to satisfy the needs of every dejected, lovelorn teenager and every downtrodden ex-girlfriend or boyfriend. "Don't Speak" is the quintessential alternative break-up song of the 90s, even if it isn't necessarily the best. But one thing is certain: it's got the best bridge.

33. "Been Caught Stealing" - Jane's Addiction

Sometimes, one cannot beat a well-formed rock song. Indeed, there's not much more one can say about "Been Caught Stealing" than that it's an extremely fun and well-written rock song. It's not intellectually stimulating. It's not emotionally compelling. It's a song about two people who like stealing things: "it's as simple as that." Yet, in spite of the lyrical and emotional simplicity, "Been Caught Stealing" rockets up the list for its musicality and fun factor.

Jane's Addiction is one of the hardest 90s rock bands to define. Indeed, what exactly is their genre? To an extent, they're a hard rock band, what with tracks like "Stop!" and "Mountain Song." Then again, most hard rock bands couldn't pull off a song as heartfelt as "Jane Says." Songs like "Three Days" present Jane's Addiction to be an "experimental" rock band, but songs like "Just Because" are far too straightforward for such a label to apply. The best label would probably be "alternative hard rock," but even that title seems to lump Jane's Addiction in with the grunge groups, which Jane's Addiction clearly deviates from. Alice in Chains and Nirvana would scoff if told to release a song as upbeat as "Been Caught Stealing." Yet, ultimately, it's to their discredit.

"Been Caught Stealing"'s best element is Dave Navarro. He plays every single guitar part on "Been Caught Stealing," and the effect is staggering. He captures a number of different guitar tones and rhythms, allowing each tone to emphasize a different note; I particularly like the subtle emphasis on the third of the I chord in the second repetition of the introduction. Additionally, his guitar solos on "Been Caught Stealing" are some of the finest of the decade. In fact, barring Slash's second solo on "November Rain," Navarro's solos are the best guitar solos on this entire list. They combine speed, tone, and expressiveness in a way few alternative rock guitarists can match.

But that's not to say the other elements of "Been Caught Stealing" are lacking. Rather, the percussion section is also quite effective. Stephen Perkins emphasizes the hi-hats, the rise cymbal, and the snares as opposed to the more sonorous strikes of the timpani: as a result, the drum kit melds nicely with the bright guitar tone and clapping beat. Eric Avery's bass line is also one of the raunchiest of the entire decade. While most of the musical elements take the mischievous heart of "Been Caught Stealing" quite lightly, Avery emphasizes the malevolent tendencies latent to shoplifting. His brief solo after the bridge is one of the song's finest moments.

Jane's Addiction would be a huge influence upon most later 90s rock groups, such as the Screaming Trees, Tool, and the Smashing Pumpkins. Altogether, that's not a bad group of bands to influence. Yet that influence comes from mostly from excellent musicianship and fine rock sensibilities. While Jane's Addiction was never the smartest rock band on the market, they were quite possibly the most fun. "Been Caught Stealing" is their finest moment as a band, in which all the musical elements reach their natural height. It's one of the most enjoyable songs of the decade, and it rightfully enjoys a spot in the list's upper half.


32. "Red Right Hand" - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

Nick Cave had already proved himself to be one of the most chaotic and creative songwriters of the 1980s on the albums From Her to Eternity and Tender Prey. He had also proven his musical diversity, showing excellence in everything from jazz ballads to blood-curdling rock songs. Yet the 90s were yet another phase in Cave's artistic development, in which he diversified his sound to embrace more straightforward rock and roll, minimalist murder ballads, and straightforward pop ballads. Of these songs, none left a greater impression than the horror classic, "Red Right Hand," a song that would fit right on the soundtrack of Night of the Hunter or Cape Fear. It's one of the most nightmarish tracks of the decade, telling a tale of physical, psychological, and societal morbidity.

"Red Right Hand" is the story of a "tall handsome man in a dusty black coat," not too dissimilar from the horror villains of the 1940s and 50s. His "red right hand" stands in for his murderous tendencies. Yet this man's most lethal weapon is not his hand; rather, his tongue, and even more important, his patience is far more deadly. "He'll reach deep into the hole, heal your shrinking soul, but there won't be a single thing that you can do" - he lures his victims into his snares. He's an omnipresent evil, coming "through the ghettos and the barrio and the bowery and the slum," as to become practically an urban legend.

The music echoes the eerie tone of the lyrics. The primary instruments throughout the track are the organ and the electric piano. While the former adds a feeling of classical horror, the latter provides a sadistic glee; the main piano riff seems to suggest that our horror villain is toying with his victim, drawing out the kill. Mick Harvey's guitar line slinks throughout the song, steadily pulsing out the main beat while the electric piano plays the main chords on the offbeat. Funeral bells ring throughout the song, as if to beckon another victim to the grave; most importantly, they both begin and end the song, as if to begin and end a life. All the while, the bass drum pounds ominously.

But the most frightening part of "Red Right Hand" is not the morbid descriptions of the man or the dark musical vibe; rather, it's the fact that the entire song is addressed in the second-person. The man isn't just after any person: no, he's after "you." Now, most of us aren't actually being stalked by a murderous killer. However, Nick Cave flips our understanding of the man in the last verse: "You'll see him in your head, on the TV screen, and hey buddy, I'm warning you to turn it off." Suddenly, the man is a stand-in for any number of real-life terrors: government indoctrination, general anxiety disorder, emotional turmoil. In the end, "you're one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan, designed and directed by his red right hand." The final loss of agency secures "Red Right Hand" a spot on this list, as one of the scariest songs of the 90s.

31. "Mind Playing Tricks on Me" - Geto Boys

If "Red Right Hand" is scary, "Mind Playing Tricks on Me" is terrifying. In fact, it is one of the most frightening songs ever written. For "Mind Playing Tricks on Me" isn't about serial killers, demons, monsters, or any of the other standard horror tropes we see in pop music. Rather, "Mind Playing Tricks On Me" describes the monster within one's own mind. The track practically catalogues every psychological disorder at work in the slums, showing how each one drastically affects both a narrator and a community. It's one of the most nightmarish songs in all of hip-hop, and it's quite possibly the most frightening hip-hop song of the 90s.

Each of the four verses of "Mind Playing Tricks On Me" deserves its own attention, as all of them are great. Scarface's first verse seems to be a description of acute paranoia: "I'm poppin' a clip when the wind blows/Every twenty seconds got me peeping out my window." Each day practically becomes a hell on earth, with barriers surrounding Scarface wherever he goes: "four walls just starin' at a *****." What are these barriers? The walls of Scarface's room? The terrible socio-economic conditions of the slums? The frail sanity of Scarface's mind? Ultimately, the paranoia starts to blur when we realize the people Scarface fear aren't so much other gangsters, but shadowy reflections of himself: "he owns a black hat like I own/A black suit and a cane like I own." Scarface is running from the one person he cannot escape: himself.

Willie D's verse is probably the weakest on the track, but that's tantamount to saying there's a slice of Macintosh apple in the midst of the Granny Smith platter; it might not be as tasty as the rest, but it's satisfying nonetheless. He too suffers from paranoia, but it's in the more strictly physical sense. While Scarface tends to internalize his paranoia, Willie D's fears are clearly more predicated on others, as he fears repercussions from "that fool that [he] ran off the block, or... that ***** last week that [he] shot." Additionally, instead of trying to deal with his demons, like Scarface, he surrounds himself with cronies in order to downplay his own psychological weakness. In essence, if Scarface is the psychologically tormented new gang member, Willie D is the psychologically tormented mafioso.

Scarface's second verse is not so much a reflection on mental illness so much as it is a plea for morality and forgiveness. He finally begins to see the real cost of his actions: "I got a little boy to look after/And if I die, then my child'll be a bastard." He prays for heavenly forgiveness, but it provides no consolation. He realizes that he is in love with a woman he has been with but has only ever treated like trash, only after she has left or has died. The song shifts from a tone of psychological desperation to emotional desperation, showing the full extent of the rapper's pain.

But the best verse is the last, from Bushwick Bill. Finally, the insanity of the ghetto takes physical form, in nightmarish hallucinations. Bill and his friends encounter a huge enemy enforcer while having fun on Halloween night. Threatened, they try to beat him up, only for all their efforts to be in vain. As Bill punches his foe, both his enemy and his friends disappear: he has been punching the pavement the entire time, fighting a monster he cannot possibly defeat. The final admission of the hallucination is downright depressing; Bill sounds completely dejected when he declares, "Goddamn homie, my mind is playing tricks on me."

Most importantly, the music behind "Mind Playing Tricks on Me" is equally as frightening and threatening as the lyrical content. The main beat is a sample of Isaac Hayes's "Hung Up on My Baby" - a rather lighthearted and forgettable song from one of the masters of soul. "Mind Playing Tricks On Me" goes a step further than most samples though, completely remaking the original and putting the tune into a minor key. While the original's guitar lines are designed to welcome the listener and create a semi-utopia blaxploitation atmosphere, "Mind Playing Tricks On Me" turns each guitar line into the judgment of society. Each faded steel-string riff suggests the lost promise of the 70s, marred by the gangster and racist atmosphere of Houston, Texas. The only steady part of the song is the drum beat, in which each strike of the snare drum is a rush of blood to the brain.

"Mind Playing Tricks On Me" is undoubtedly one of the greatest hip hop songs ever released. While the Geto Boys were an influential horror core group and one of the most important Texan rap groups, they never quite wrote a song of this caliber ever again. No other hip hop song has ever quite tapped into the horrors of gangster life so thoroughly as "Mind Playing Tricks On Me" giving it an edge few hip hop songs can match. It's the single darkest song on the entire list, even more so than several grim classics featured in the top thirty. The only reason it isn't higher is the lack of musical innovation - the sampling does a bit too much work - and the somewhat less than virtuosic flow. Otherwise, this could have been an easy top twenty entry.


Tuesday, December 1, 2015

Top 100 Best Songs of the 1990s: Part 6 (50-41)

I like this list and I cannot lie...

50. "The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)" - Missy "Misdemeanor" Elliott

Earlier on this list, I included Busta Rhymes's "Woo Hah! Got You All in Check" - an excellent piece of bizarre hip hop, employing unorthodox production and off-color flow to create one of the most memorable raps of the decade. Yet that track pales in comparison to Missy Elliott's "The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)," itself the premier example of "weird" hip hop. I'd be hesitant to call Missy Elliott the greatest female rapper of all time, as MC Lyte legitimately has more lyrical skill, but no other female rapper has as many great songs as Missy. I would have difficulty putting any less than three of her songs on a list of the best songs of the 2000s: no other female rapper has had better beats and more memorable lyrics. Yet "The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)" is Missy Elliott's standout single from the 90s: a debut that introduced the world to one of its most enjoyable artists.

"The Rain" introduces us to all of the best elements of Missy Elliott: her laid-back but melodic flow, her mastery of hemiola, her hyper sexual persona, and her straight-up absurdity. Missy Elliott is perhaps the only rapper I know who can use onomatopoeia and come out looking better than ever: when she asks, "Beep beep, who got the keys to the jeep? VROOM!," she just emerges with more personality. Why do silly lines like this work? Missy Elliott's spectacular cadence and timing: she knows that she's telling a bad joke and she's laughing with the audience. Plus, her easy-going attitude makes her seem like someone with whom it is a blast to hang out. None of her lyrics are spectacular, but the overall feeling is very welcoming. The rain outside may be a bummer, but Missy Elliott is perfectly content to hang out with her friends and enjoy life for what it is.

But Missy Elliott is only one half of what makes "The Rain" so great. The other half is Missy Elliott's producer, Timbaland, who is quite possibly my favorite hip hop producer. While the beat to "The Rain" isn't on the same scale as later masterpieces like "Get Ur Freak On" and "Work It," it's still a tremendous achievement. The main sample is lifted from the introduction to Ann Peebles's 1973 soul classic, "I Can't Stand the Rain"; Ann Peebles's chilling voice combined with the ominous timbales create a spectacular atmosphere. Each strike of the timbales mimics the sound of raindrops, with their staccato sounds evoking the pointillist gestures of Stephen Sondheim in Sunday in the Park with George. Below, the bass and drums add the bounce and fun factor: after all, "The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)" isn't meant to be a grim song. While "The Rain" wasn't Timbaland's first major single, it probably the one that established him as one of the best in the game.

Missy Elliott is one of those rappers who definitely got better as she aged. That said, "The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)" is already a considerable achievement for a debut single. In fact, it's quite possibly my favorite debut single in all of hip-hop, beating out such classics as Boogie Down Productions' "South Bronx," Run-DMC's "It's Like That," and even the Wu-Tang Clan's "Protect Ya Neck"; none of those singles has the same charm or enjoyability of "The Rain." It's a classic hip hop track that introduced the world to the most popular and arguably best female em cee ever to pic up the mic.

49. "Block Rockin' Beats" - The Chemical Brothers

Placing dance tracks on this list was much more difficult than I thought it would be. I can groove out to tracks like Daft Punk's "Da Funk" all day, but ultimately I don't feel I'm that much of a better person for listening to it. After all, few dance tracks of any words to speak of whatsoever: what impact could they possibly leave? Indeed, this track, "Block Rockin' Beats," has only nine words total in the entire song. Granted, that's better than Silver Convention's six words in "Fly Robin Fly" or Daft Punk's three words in "Around the World," but that's still not saying much. What the Chemical Brothers have over most of the competition is atmosphere. Out of all the 90s dance superstars, only the Prodigy managed to rival the Chemical Brothers in creating dark, almost frightening beats. We'll see one of his tracks later in the list, but the Chemical Brothers themselves laid the smackdown on "Block Rockin' Beats," their most musical and fulfilling song.

"Block Rockin' Beats" is one of the great sample songs of the 90s dance scene. The bulk of the song comes from a sample of Bernard Purdie's "Them Changes." Purdie himself is a highly underrated jazz drummer who pioneered one of the most influential shuffles in all of jazz and funk - the Purdie shuffle. On "Them Changes," Purdie lays down one of his slickest grooves, with his snare strikes being almost melodic in their precision. The phrase "back with another one of those block rockin'' beats comes from old school rapper Scholly D's "Gucci Again"; the entire song takes the theme to heart with the power of its groove. While the dark bass line itself is not sampled, the tone is based upon that of the Crusaders on "The Well's Gone Dry." The aggressive pick-up provide a terrific momentum to the rest of the song.

That said, the Chemical Brothers never betray their electronica roots. Their blasts of synthesizer and other mechanical elements swarm the track, in a fashion not too dissimilar to the pioneering sound effects on Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love." The Chemical Brothers manage to turn bits of sound, from sirens and random buzzing, into effective melodies. Best of all is the song's introduction, which serves to create a wide-opening space for the rest of the track. Seeing as "Block Rockin' Beats" opens the Chemical Brothers' most respected album, Dig Your Own Hole, the first few seconds of "Block Rockin' Beat" serve as an excellent introduction to the sounds of the Chemical Brothers as a whole.

"Block Rockin' Beats," in addition to being extremely good, is also extremely popular. Building on the momentum of their first number one UK release, "Setting Sun," the Chemical Brothers sent "Block Rockin' Beats" right to the top. But, unlike "Setting Sun," "Block Rockin' Beats" got the US's attention: the song won the 1998 Grammy award for Best Rock Instrumental, beating out Joe Satriani, Eric Johnson, and Steve Vai. Looking at the offerings, I can see why "Block Rockin' Beats" won. It uses sampling to produce a viciously aggressive track that can still fire up the dance floor today. I might not like electronica, but "Block Rockin' Beats" gets my thumbs up.

48. "Doo Wop (That Thing)" - Lauryn Hill

Being born in 1995, I don't have as much nostalgia for 90s music as most of the Internet at large. However, a select few tracks on this list hit me with a wave of involuntary memory that is downright Proustian. While "Iris," featured previously on this list, was a considerable reminder of my early childhood, "Doo Wop (That Thing)" had an even bigger impact. I honestly find it difficult to believe that "Doo Wop (That Thing)" only ranked at 41 on Billboard's Year-End countdown for the most popular tracks of '99, for this song was everywhere when I was a little kid. I must have heard this song at least five times a day for two whole years, because I can remember every note. Best of all, the notes are worth remembering.

It's become commonplace to ignore and/or forget Lauryn Hill in the history of music. Nowadays, she's known mostly for evading taxes and not giving concerts. But, back in the late 90s, she was one of the biggest and most respected musicians on the market. A talented alto singer and one of the best female rappers ever, Lauryn Hill's brand of neo-soul epitomized on her classic The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill seemed poised to dominate the next five years of popular music. Though OutKast would come to usurp Lauryn Hill's role in the popular consciousness, "Doo Wop (That Thing)" managed to outdo any of their 90s efforts both critically and successfully. Listening to the track, it's not hard to see why. No other R&B song of the 90s looked both ahead and backward so well as "Doo Wop (That Thing)." Indeed, few songs since have managed to capture its timeless appeal.

Some of the classic feel of "Doo Wop (That Thing)" can be attributed to its masterful musicianship and instrumentation. Oddly enough, "Doo Wop" doesn't so much draw from doo wop as id draws upon early 60s soul: it's much more Aretha Franklin and Lorraine Ellison than the Shirelles or the Chiffons. The bopping piano chords and the punchy trumpets create a very slick tone. Lauryn Hill herself lets loose, using subtle harmonies and improvisations throughout verses to enhance the song's lyrics. And this is not to mention the chorus, quite possibly the most memorable of the entire decade. Seriously, hooks rarely come better. It may be repetitive, but it's melodically compelling and actually works to further the song's message.

"Doo Wop (That Thing)" is one of few conscious hip hop songs to attain mainstream success. Normally, it bubbles just under the radar in the hands of artists like the Roots and Lupe Fiasco, but Lauryn Hill brought it right to the front. Though most rap of the 90s praised sex and drugs with almost reckless abandon, Lauryn Hill provides a comforting warning about the consequences. While "Waterfalls" treats this theme in a manner that's slightly condescending, due to the narrators' assumed perfections, "Doo Wop (That Thing)" goes right down to the individual level: Lauryn has made the same mistake as many of the women and men of her era, and she just wants to avoid the same heartbreaks from happening. Even better, her message about avoiding cheap drugs and sex is gender-neutral, warning guys and girls equally about pursuing "that thing" above all else. My personal favorite line is a response to the hedonistic rapper, Puff Daddy: "remember when he told you he was all about the Benjamins?/you act like you ain't hear him, then give him a little trim." Few pop songs manage to be so scathing while sounding so relaxed.

Very few songs are able to match "Doo Wop (That Thing)"'s masterful blend of positivity, consciousness, and musical breadth. Unsurprisingly, being a popular neo soul song, "Doo Wop (That Thing)" won plenty of Grammies, but, unlike so many standard songs of its type, "Doo Wop (That Thing)" definitely deserved them. It's rare that a song this good gets this popular. Lauryn Hill may have dropped off the musical map, but "Doo Wop (That Thing)" remains a 90s classic that still holds up today. No other song better epitomizes 1999 than this one.


47. "Girlfriend" - Matthew Sweet

The 90s saw the demise of many popular music trends of the 80s, but it ended up reviving some of the best sounds of the 70s. One of these was power pop, the ever lovable blend of joyous 60s harmonies and 70s rock guitar that hit its commercial peak in 1979 with the Knack's "My Sharona." However, once people bought the Knack's Get the Knack album and realized that the band was perhaps the most misogynistic in rock's history, the backlash almost killed the genre completely. It took a full decade for power pop to recover, finally gaining mainstream popularity through groups like Fountains of Wayne and the Gin Blossoms. However, for my money, the best power pop musician of the 90s was Matthew Sweet, whose 1991 single, "Girlfriend," is the sharpest power pop song since Cheap Trick's "Surrender." After all, how can one deny a song with not one, not two, but THREE spectacular guitar solos.

"Girlfriend" is perhaps the quintessential guitar rock song of the 1990s. While there are some grunge and metal songs that have more impressive guitar parts than "Girlfriend," few manage to sound so dynamic and complete. "Girlfriend" begins with a wave of reverb, an indication of the guitar sound to come. Reverb is the defining guitar sound on "Girlfriend," and it works spectacularly. The tunneling effect of the rhythm guitar lets each solo stand out all the more. The reverb ends up enhancing each power chord, giving each guitar fill its own flavor. Indeed, the very fact that "Girlfriend" has guitar fills as opposed to drum fills is a distinctive feature. Most 90s rock songs use relatively straightforward guitar sludge or arpeggios on the verses, saving the dynamism for a single solo or a riff between the chorus and the verses.

The lyrics to "Girlfriend" are not particularly substantive... on face value. At first, Matthew Sweet starts out the song with several trite clichés about love: "I wanna love somebody; I hear you need somebody to love." However, it's pretty clear that the narrator of "Girlfriend" is taking the words of Solomon Burke a bit too seriously. When he calls to the "girlfriend" in question, he seems to assume that the girl will fall for him from the get-go. The song hides its sinister undertone under its joy, before finally revealing the trick in the outdo: "and I'm never gonna set you free." "Girlfriend" is as much a subversion of power pop song as it is a straightforward power pop song, hiding a threatening narrator under its joyous chorus.

From its blazing guitars to its secretly villainous narrator, "Girlfriend" is a power pop song right down the 70s line. Is it as good as a classic from Big Star, the best power pop group ever? No. But it's certainly as good as a song by Cheap Trick, power pop's most popular group. It's got the signature guitar punch, spectacular production, a strong vocal performance, and even some lyrical subtlety. It's a tight, enjoyable rock song that brightens the 90s rock aesthetic while clouding its morality.

46. "My Name Is" - Eminem

In 1996, rap faced its most traumatic year in its entire history. Dr. Dre, depressed by the death of his friend and former bandmate, Eazy-E, and frightened by the increasingly erratic and corrupt behavior of the co-founder of Death Row Records, Suge Knight, decided to depart from Death Row Records to form a new label: Aftermath Entertainment. Later that year, Tupac Shakur was shot and killed. Within the first few month of 1997, the Notorious B.I.G., the top East Coast rapper, was dead as well. Rap had lost its two standard bearers, and its greatest producer was struggling with a new record label with next to no talent behind it. Amidst the chaos, Dr. Dre made one of the most fateful business decisions in hip-hop history, signing Marshall Mathers, AKA Eminem, to his label. How was a white rapper, a concept long since de-legitimized by the banes to music that are Vanilla Ice and the Insane Clown Posse, going to change the rap world?

Simple. Be the nastiest, most insane, most villainous rapper ever... while also being the best on the scene.

While the ICP made insulting murder raps that are enough to make one vomit due to the sheer amount of gore in their lyrics, Eminem made insults, violence, misogyny, and homophobia funny due to the sheer skill through which he related them. In "My Name Is," Eminem introduces the persona of "Slim Shady," one of the nastiest characters in all of rock and roll. This is a man who "since age a twelve, has felt like he's someone else/'cause he's hung his original self from the top bunk with a belt." He's a demon whom "God has sent to piss the world off." Every word that comes out of Eminem's mouth in "My Name Is" is calculated to offend as many people as humanly possible. His own mother? Slim Shady accuses her of doing more drugs than he does. Poor people who would like to be his fans? Slim Shady calls them assholes for no reason in particular. Feminists? Good Lord,  Slim Shady tears women's genitalia off their bodies, tries to impregnate the Spice Girls, and rapes lesbians out of spite. The lyrics are obscenely offensive, but they are also extremely well-timed and occasionally funny. Eminem seems to ask the listener, "what would happen if you had let an immature psychopath rap?" He answers the question all too well.

The music to "My Name Is" is equally twisted. The song hinges around a key sample of Labi Siffre's "I Got The," a long-forgotten jazz funk song. The guitar slinks up and down the scale, as if to create a demented atmosphere. I particularly like the subtle progression, using a standard I-ii-IV progression, until dipping back with a flat iii chord that provides an unsatisfying cadence back to the tonic. The music is off-putting, with complete gaps of silence in the production and whining synthesizer saws in the background. That being said, the music completely enhances Eminem's voice: one remembers every single line on this track.

Eminem would continue to release maddeningly evil tracks throughout the 90s, not least of which are songs like "Guilty Conscience," in which he plays the demon in one's head, and "'97 Bonnie and Clyde," in which he dumps his wife's body into a river while his child is in the back seat of the car. His twisted debut album, The Slim Shady LP, won a Grammy Award for Best Rap Album, not without controversy. Many were outraged that a rapper would go as far as Eminem did; they seem to miss the joke. Eminem is the single greatest troll in existence, and his harassment should never be taken seriously. "My Name Is" is a masterful work of lyricism, production, and rap humor, forcing as many uncomfortable laughs as is humanly possible. It's offensive in the best way possible.


45. "Honey" - Moby

Moby is probably my favorite EDM artist, and my love completely hinges upon songs like "Honey." Unlike other EDM singles that plant themselves too solidly in the electronica camp, Moby is more than content to draw upon content from all across the musical map. His most acclaimed album, Play, is a compendium of dance tracks based on all different types of themes. Some, like "Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?" draw upon classic 60s soul; some, like "Bodyrock," draw upon rap and rave music; some, like "Porcelain," are completely original compositions. In my opinion, though, the best songs in the Moby catalogue are his folk and blues remixes, of which "Honey" is the best. It's a soulful, powerful, and downright danceable track that sets both the dance floor and the music lover's mind ablaze.

In developing Play, Moby heavily drew upon the folk collections of Alan Lomax, perhaps the greatest collector of American folk music ever. Amidst the collections lay "Sometimes," a song by gospel teacher and folk singer, Bessie Jones. The original song is a primal chant, featuring a simple percussion of clapped hands and Bessie Jones's extremely soulful voice. The song is only one minute long; thus, every person has time in his or her life to enjoy its majesty. Moby loops a few phrases from the tracks to form the backbone of "Honey" - it's a sample that links his dance music to the foot-stomping church music of America's past.

But Moby does not content himself to merely loop the Bessie Jones sample: he enhances it with appropriate instrumentation. He keeps the percussive power of the clapping throughout the track, using them to anchor the track's beat. The first major addition is the piano, able to change the chords and mood of the melody, as the original sample is but one simple melodic line. Moby adds in steel guitars, drum machines, even wah-wah and pedal: all of the elements give "Honey" an unmatchable groove for 90s songs. Of all the songs on this list, "Honey" is the only one to which I am completely helpless to the groove. I even danced in place while typing up this list entry.

By the 90s end, hating Moby became quite easy. The tracks from Play became fodder for many a television commercial, as their catchy loops were ideal for selling products. However, nearly all of the hate was unjustified. All the hatred towards Moby came from overplay, rather than Play itself. "Honey," in particular, has aged spectacularly, combining a strong sense of musical history with the best dance music technology of the 90s. It's one of the best jams of the 90s, and it deserves a spot in any DJ's rotation.

44. "Gangsta's Paradise" - Coolio feat. LV

"Gangsta's Paradise" is a watershed moment in hip-hop that few people recognize. For the first time in Billboard history, a rap song was the top ranked song of the year, the single that sold the most. In fact, this accomplishment wouldn't be repeated until 50 Cent's "In Da Club" reached the top spot in 2003 and Flo Rida's "Low" in 2008. Of all these three songs, "Gangsta's Paradise" is far and away the best: it's got the best message, the best beat, the best cadence, the best atmosphere. It's a fantastic song that has since become the butt of jokes due to an excellent Weird Al Yankovic parody and Coolio's dated name.

I don't know many pop songs that begin with invocations of the 23rd Psalm, but such is the case with "Gangsta's Paradise": "As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death/I take a look at my life and realize there's none left."The lyrics find themselves at the very center of gangster rap music, at once describing all the brutalities and self-destructive attitudes of the genre while also addressing the reasons the brutalities exist in the first place. The first verse focuses on the evils gangster's regularly commit, but the second verse shifts to the upbringing that leads to gangsters' rise to power. Impoverished working conditions leave few options for African American urban youths to climb out of the slum. Indeed, in some instances, "thug life" is a necessity for survival. The final verse shifts the burden onto white politicians who decry gangsters: "they say I gotta learn, but nobody's here to teach me/If they can't understand it, how can they reach me?" If urban schools lack the funding and teacher quality to improve students' lives, they will never be able to help young African Americans to break the cycle.

Coolio might not be a master of flow, but his cadence is excellent. The verses have a melodic quality, almost sung in a way. As I see it, Coolio uses this melodic structure to substitute for screaming, as to gain more listeners. After all, rappers like Ol' Dirty Bastard and Nas don't have number one hits. Each phrase builds up tremendously, especially on the third verse. The final lines - "I guess they can't/I guess they won't/I guess they front" - sound at once defeated and frustrated. Even the vocal doubling helps Coolio, indicating that his plight is not his alone but is one of an entire community.

The beat is a re-imagining of Stevie Wonder's "Pastime Paradise" from his classic Songs in the Key of Life. The original track is an indictment of both those who are willing to rest on their laurels for financial success and those who expect future earnings for doing absolutely nothing. Yet "Gangsta's Paradise" flips this idea on its head. It doesn't matter whether or not one waits for future earnings or relies on those of one's past: urban youth don't have access to either due to government ignorance of their plight. LV might not be on Stevie Wonder's level as a singer, but he provides pathos to Coolio's song. Stevie Wonder approves of the sample; considering the quality of it, he certainly indicates his wisdom.

Unfortunately for "Gangsta's Paradise," it's been subject to too much mockery. Weird Al Yankovic's hilarious "Amish Paradise" completely remakes the song into a discussion of Amish lifestyle choices. The parody is still one of Weird Al's best and most famous tracks, and I wouldn't doubt that many people prefer it to the original. Plus, Coolio's dated name and hairstyles have led many to completely ignore his contributions to rap. This is a tremendous mistake: "Gangsta's Paradise" isn't just an excellent hip hop track; it's the hip hop track that put rap to the very top of the charts for the first time. It's a landmark hip hop track in both sales and social impact.

43. "Enjoy the Silence" - Depeche Mode

Depeche Mode's Violator is probably one of my top ten favorite albums of the 90s. It's one of the finest collections of dark synth-pop music ever recorded. My choice for this list, "Enjoy the Silence," is undeniably the most popular and critically respected on the album. Even so, it's not even my favorite song on the album. That honor would probably go to either "Personal Jesus" - first released as a single during the 80s - or "Halo" - a song I like merely out of personal preference rather than musical or cultural significance. Ultimately, those other songs disqualify themselves for the ranking, and I am left with my third-favorite track on the album. That said, being my third-favorite track on one of my favorite albums is still pretty damn good.

The chorus of "Enjoy the Silence" sounds quite inviting, a declaration of pure love: "all I ever wanted/all I ever needed/is here in my arms." That said, the final phrase is somewhat unsettling: "words are very unnecessary/they can only do harm." Why can words only do harm? Would not declarations of love from the other person be a good thing? Taking a look at the lyrics, the message is clear: "Words like violence/break the silence/Come crashing in/into my little world." "Enjoy the Silence" is a dark love-lust song, much in the vein of The Police's "Every Breath You Take" or Nick Cave's "Watching Alice." The relationship is borderline abusive, in which silence is the only means of keeping the relationship alive. The girl must enjoy the silence for fear of being hurt should she speak out. It's practically a horror song.

With this dark theme in mind, lead singer, Dave Gahan, gives perhaps his all-time best vocal performance. Gahan's voice is exceedingly flat, as it always is. Yet that amusicality works in his favor here: the straight tone of his voice combined with the descending melodic lines makes him sound truly threatening. His articulation of phrases like "Can't you understand? Oh, my little girl..." is chilling. Additionally, unlike most of the other songs on Violator, "Enjoy the Silence" features very little harmonic singing. There's but one contrapuntal phrase on the second and fourth phrases of the chorus. The sparsity of the harmony makes the song that much more threatening.

 The rest of the music is equally chilling. Nearly all of the sounds on "Enjoy the Silence" are produced synthesizers. The only exception is the bass, which provides a surprisingly lighthearted introduction to the song. As I see it, the bass line serves to represent the outside world's perception of Depeche Mode's relationship: a joyous facade. The dark synthesizers and droning drum machines tell the true story. The entire track builds an atmosphere out of nothing, creating a dark ambience that few other synth-pop groups can match. There are so many moving parts, but each melodic line fits into a tight score. The piece feels rich, with no synth line out of balance. Everything is tight and controlled.

"Enjoy the Silence" is often considered Depeche Mode's finest song. I disagree with that statement, as I feel their 80s single, "Never Let Me Down Again," is their masterpiece. That said, "Enjoy the Silence" does stake out its claim as one of Depeche Mode's finest songs. It's likely their best set of lyrics, having more lyrical subtlety than the traditional synth-pop song. Additionally, it's arguably the Depeche Mode song that best uses the dark atmosphere of Violator to its advantage. It might not be my personal favorite Depeche Mode song, but it's a song good enough to warrant its lofty reputation.

42. "Black Steel" - Tricky

Tricky, AKA Adrian Nichols Matthews Thaws, was originally a member of Massive Attack. Indeed, he was one of the main rappers on their debut album, Blue Lines. His solo career, however, is stronger than Massive Attack's, favoring sparser textures and more instrumental variety. The Maxinquaye album on which "Black Steel" is featured is a masterpiece of trip hop, serving as a compendium of rock, funk, and hip-hop grooves. "Black Steel" is the album's third track, a placement that serves to illustrate the overall strength of the album. More often than not, 90s albums tended to be front loaded, with the first two songs being the best cuts and the rest of the tracks being subpar. Maxinquaye diverges from this path, with its best tracks - "Black Steel," "Hell Is Round the Corner," and "Aftermath" - all being smack dab in the middle. Of these tracks, "Black Steel" hits the hardest and is the most memorable. Thus, I've given it the nod.

"Black Steel" is a perfect example of a "re-imagining" of a song rather than a "cover" of a song. "Black Steel" takes but one verse from Public Enemy's epic story-telling rap, "Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos" and re-works it into a masterpiece of trip-hop hard rock crossover. The original is one of the best songs of the 80s, a terrifying story of a group of inmates breaking out of prison and killing all the guards while still pushing an Afrocentric message. As with most Public Enemy songs, it uses samples to provide its beat. "Black Steel," on the other hand, has completely original music. Also, instead of rapping, Tricky has his guest vocalist, Martina Topley-Bird, sing the lyrics. Thus, for those sticklers who dislike rap music because of sampling and lack of melody, "Black Steel" can serve as a satisfying substitute for "Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos." (Nonetheless, I would still recommend listening to "Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos," as it is one of Public Enemy's best songs.)

The instrumentation of "Black Steel" is fantastic. The song opens with distorted guitar and Indian percussion, offering an alien quality to the track. Such an atmosphere fits the message of "Black Steel...," about inmates who are isolated from the rest of society purely on the basis of their race. Due to this isolation, they retaliate with brutal force. The song bursts into life after the first verse, with roaring electric guitars and a vicious percussion roll. The Indian percussion persists as well, maintaining the same atmosphere in spite of the more violent tone. The song vacillates between its violent "chorus" and more subdued verses, as if to replicate the mental back-and-forth of an enraged and alienated prisoner.

It's hard to distill the excellence of Tricky's career into one track. The man has given us some truly excellent music in songs like "Aftermath," "Christiansands," and "Ponderosa." Yet it's "Black Steel" that emerges as his most memorable track. It's a re-imagining of a great song that almost measures up the the tremendous quality of the original. Most importantly, "Black Steel" brought a rock edge into trip-hop that few other songs could match. It's quite possibly the most action-packed trip-hop song ever.

41. "Tears in Heaven" - Eric Clapton

"Tears in Heaven" is not a sad song. "Tears in Heaven" is a tragic song. Nowadays, most music critics have turned against the song, calling it overly sentimental and sappy. That is an extremely unfair assessment of a song that manages to defy the clichés of "sad" radio hits like Bobby Goldsboro's "Honey," Terry Jacks' "Seasons in the Sun," and Sarah McLachlan's "I Will Remember You." Not to mention, while most of those songs come from places of false sincerity, "Tears in Heaven" stems from the all-too-real death of Clapton's four-year old son, who fell 49 stories to his death. Thus, criticizing Clapton for "weepiness" or "over sentimentality" is downright insensitive. Most other complaints about the song center on the most picayune details: the fact that Clapton pronounces "Heaven" like "Heav-ON" and the use of fretless bass. Are those really reasons to completely hate one of the most existentially fraught pop songs to ever hit the charts?

Yes, I did just call "Tears in Heaven" existentially fraught. It's an eerily profound song when one actually thinks about it. Most interpretations of the song center only on the opening lyrics: "would you know my name/f I saw you in heaven?" In short, Eric Clapton's son never really came to know his father, due to his only being four years old at the time of his death. Thus, Eric Clapton is lamenting his fate much like Jim Croce in "Time in a Bottle." But the implications of "Tears in Heaven" are far more frightening. As one learns from latter lyrics, such as "would you hold my hand/if I saw you in heaven?," Clapton very much fears that his son's failure to recognize and support him stems from his own failures as a father. After all, he was on tour throughout his young child's life. In fact, he was on tour when his child died. A sense of guilt persists throughout the song, as if Eric Clapton is responsible for his son's death. Eric Clapton's breathy performance indicates his fear and his pain all at once, and we feel the full implications of his lyrics.

Musically, too, "Tears in Heaven" is an exceptional pop song. Most "sad" songs content themselves by using minor keys to accent the sadness. "Tears in Heaven" manages to create its sadness within a major key: a rare feat for music even outside of the pop genre. Also of note is the unorthodox modulation in the bridge; the song shifts from the key of A major to the key of G major, the flat VII of the original key. Not only that, but also the bridge starts with a C chord, the IV of the new key. It's a jarring shift, but a highly effective one. Clapton carefully layers his harmony as to draw a mournful effect out of a major key song.

A great deal of the song's mournful quality comes from its instrumentation. The bulk of the song comes from Eric Clapton's mournful acoustic guitar, focusing on simple finger picks instead of the more complex riffs and runs we expect from Clapton. Clapton complements his acoustic work with some steel-string guitar in the last two verses and the bridge. His slide guitar solo is simple but effective, drawing out every nanosecond of pathos from the strings. Also, "Tears in Heaven" features harmonica - nearly always a plus in my book. Even the fretless bass comes into play, adding a raw vibrato to the root of the song that is absent in most pop songs. The instruments almost melt into each other, creating a warm texture that would be inviting if not for the tragic sentiment.

"Tears in Heaven" won the 1993 Grammy Award for Song of the Year. Though I do believe Alan Menken's "Beauty and the Beast," released the same year, is a superior song, the recording presented for the award was the inferior, schlocky version by Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson. With that in consideration, "Tears in Heaven" was far and away the best nominee. Though three songs from 1992 placed higher than it on this list, it was not far from being the actual best song of that year. "Tears in Heaven" comes from a place of real pain, unlike most other sad songs on this list. A few sad songs did place higher on this list than Clapton's magnum opus, but even they lack the sobriety and reality of Clapton's single. Most people call "Tears in Heaven" the saddest pop song ever; in my estimation, it's definitely the most tragic.

Friday, November 20, 2015

Top 100 Best Songs of the 1990s: Part 5 (60-51)

Now stop: COUNTDOWN TIME!

60. "Safe from Harm" - Massive Attack

One of my favorite genres of the 90s is trip-hop, a beautiful fusion of jazz, ambient, hip-hop and soul music invented by several of the best bands of the decade. And trip hop bands rarely come better than Massive Attack, the band that popularized the genre around the world. While "Angels" and "Unfinished Sympathy" are both more highly regarded tracks, I've opted for "Safe from Harm" for a few reasons. For one, trip-hop distinguishes itself from hip-hop by having mostly original melodies, and "Safe from Harm" has the best melody of any Massive Attack song. Second, it's my personal favorite Massive Attack song. Third, "Safe from Harm" is the first track on Blue Lines, Massive Attack's first album. Thus, "Safe from Harm" was probably many people's first exposure to this entire genre of music. Thus, on the whole, I consider "Safe from Harm" to be the best Massive Attack song.

"Safe from Harm" trickles into the listener's ear with the sound of wind and wind chimes, up until an excellent drum beat and bass line come to the fold. Each instrument gradually layers in, from synthesizers to record scratches, up until guest vocalist Shara Nelson plunges in with a terrific vocal performance. Nelson is quite an underrated singer, likely because her discography doesn't extend much further than her guest work with Massive Attack. That being said, she's the woman who brings "Safe from Harm" and all the other songs on Blue Lines to life. Throughout the song, Nelson takes the role of a vengeful lover or mother. She is willing to tolerate the violent culture of the city, but once that culture threatens those precious to her, she is on the assault. When she declares "But if you hurt what's mine / I'll sure as hell retaliate," it's a knife to the stomach.

What distinguishes trip-hop from straightforward rap and R&B is the strong alternative rock undercurrent. In "Safe from Harm," this rock edge comes in the form of several guitar samples throughout the song. The guitar licks belong to Eddie Hazel, the guitarist for the 70s funk band, Funkadelic; seeing as Eddie Hazel is quite possibly the best guitarist of the 70s, the lick is spectacularly funky. The drum beats come from a song by Billy Cobham, widely regarded to be the best jazz-fusion drummer of all. However, the layering of instrumentation makes all the samples gel into one cohesive unit. Everything, from the dissonant ninths of the verses to the triumphant and menacing chorus, melds together.

Even the rap elements of the song shine. The brief rap interludes from Massive Attack member Daddy G add a nice rhythmic edge to the song. While his performance would come more into play on songs like "Karmacoma," his additions to "Safe from Harm" produce more musical variety into one song. "Safe from Harm" thus anticipates many of the different trip-hop styles that the band puts into display on the whole Blue Lines album.

"Safe from Harm" is a tremendous song from trip-hop's most popular act. That being said, it's very much a silver standard for trip-hop rather than its peak. Trip-hop, due to its wide breadth in combining hip hop, soul, and rock, allowed for a tremendous amount of experimentation. Massive Attack, for the most part, played things fairly safe. Other groups, such as Tricky, DJ Shadow, and Portishead, would take the form and lift it to a higher level through diversifying its sound. We'll take a look at some of their songs later in the list, but "Safe from Harm" still deserves the honor of having inspired all those trip-hop songs that would perfect the form.

59. "Regulate" - Warren G feat. Nate Dogg

A tremendous part of the West Coast rap sound was the genre known as "G-funk," a blend of smooth jazz samples and gangster rap themes. No song sums up this genre so perfectly as Warren G's classic "Regulate." One of the finest story-telling rap songs of the 90s, "Regulate" is the simple tale of two gangsters who fight off some rivals and sleep with some prostitutes. It's far from an ethical tale; Aesop would cringe. Indeed, in most any other rap song, the story of "Regulate" would be almost reprehensible, shamefully endorsing the gangster rap lifestyle. Essentially, "Regulate" is the embodiment of all the trends most hip hop critics hate about today's rap culture. However, the musical and lyrical prowess of "Regulate" makes these criticisms nigh irrelevant. Any song idea, no matter how cliché, can work if executed properly. Not to mention, "Regulate" established many of the clichés that would come to be distorted by Cash Money Records in the late 2000s.

"Regulate" relates its narrative from the perspective of two friends. Warren G gets caught up in a scuffle with some gangsters after they stick him up unfairly, and Nate Dogg comes to his aid. Nate kills all of the enemy gangsters, then he invites Warren G to go sleep with some prostitutes with him. Interestingly enough, one could argue that the story of "Regulate" is actually the story of G-funk itself. G-funk, as a genre, evolved out of raw gangster rap and relatively innocent 80s fusion-jazz soul; thus, the raw gangster quality of the muggers must die while the innocence of Warren G must fall to the carnal pleasures of G-funk. Call it Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained at the same time, if one will.

The best part of "Regulate" is the music. The main sample comes from Michael McDonald's "I Keep Forgettin'," one of the most beloved soul classics of the 80s. The bass adds a threatening quality, using its lowest frequencies to simulate both the bounce of Nate Dogg's car and the footsteps of the muggers. But the best instrument is Nate Dogg's voice. Many have compared Nate Dogg's smooth baritone tones to those of Isaac Hayes - sensuous but mysterious; it's a fair comparison, though I do think Hayes himself could have outshone Nate Dogg. But that's just my musical bias speaking. Regardless, Nate Dogg creeps up the minor scale pitch by pitch, letting the final half step switch accent the nastiest words of his verses.

"Regulate" went on to be one of the all-time biggest singles in Def Jam's history: considering the number of great groups that have come from the label, that's quite the accomplishment. Considering the raw quality of the song, it's hard to deny it the accolades. It's a classic G-funk track that represents everything that everyone likes about the genre.

58. "Mama Said Knock You Out" - LL Cool J

Behold LL Cool J, the most overrated rapper in music history.

Back in 1985, a 16-year-old LL Cool J released Radio to massive critical acclaim. It's still considered one of the best old-school rap albums ever. However, having listened to it, it's clear that rap had a long way to go. Every track on Radio has the same tempo, the same minimalist music, the same cadence, and the same flow. Plus, there are several dozen really bad rhymes, what with LL Cool J calling himself better than Shakespeare and discussing the ethics of lying to King Tut. The follow-up album, Bigger and Deffer, isn't much better, although the beats are somewhat more entertaining. Bigger and Deffer also gave the world "I Need Love" - a hip hop song, while not bad in and of itself, that introduced the malignant "thugs need love, too" genre unto the world. "I Need Love" is probably one of ten good songs in the entire genre of "thugs need love, too" songs, and it's the only truly innovative track LL Cool J ever released. LL Cool J is still considered one of the greatest em cees ever, but it's only because he came out at a time when there weren't future titans like Rakim and Chuck D to blow him out of the water. Looking over his entire career, only one song actually holds up to this day.

But what a song "Mama Said Knock You Out" is.

"Don't call it a comeback" might just be the most legendary opening lyric of any rap song. After dropping off after his third album, Walking with a Panther, LL Cool J came back with a vengeance. "Mama Said Knock You Out," inspired by a few choice words from LL Cool J's actual grandmother, is a response to critics who disliked the previous record. When people call this song a "comeback" (which, to be honest, it really is), LL Cool J responds that he never actually dropped off in the first place. Let's be clear: while LL Cool J's albums are over-hyped, they're not really that bad either. Not to mention, they sold decently, even Walking with a Panther. Thus, LL Cool J takes the critics to task for being overly harsh on a rapper who never actually dipped too much in quality, at least in a relative sense.

Manipulating internal rhyme, enjambment, puns, metaphors, and allusions, "Mama Said Knock You Out" is LL Cool J's most articulate track. My favorite line is probably "And when I pull out my jammy get ready cause it might go/BLAAW! How you like me now!" This particular line was written in response to a diss track from fellow rapper Kool Moe Dee, called "How Ya Like Me Now." LL Cool J flips the sentiment around, as if to say "Hey Kool, continue your beef with me, and you might end up dead! How you like them apples!" It's brash and arrogant, but it's the perfect sentiment for a track about beating one's enemies into submission.

"Mama Said Knock You Out" also distinguishes itself from the rest of LL Cool J's career by having his single most intense flow and cadence. While LL Cool J is not a very versatile rapper, he's certainly an effective one. On "Mama Said Knock You Out," he finally embraces the off-beat and rests that he strayed away from using in his first few LPs. Such syncopation and variety makes the flow more engaging to the listener, and it's great to hear a rapper of LL Cool J's intensity tearing up the track. In the final chorus, his voice practically cracks with rage, the final exertion of a rapper who's just laid down a legendary track.

The beat is great, too. One can't go wrong with the drum beat from James Brown's "Funky Drummer," the single most commonly sampled beat of all time. The multiple record scratches feel like a flurry of punches to the listener's face. The backing choir from Sly and the Family Stone adds an ominous chill, their riff wailing throughout the track as if spectral in origin. However, the key to it all is a sample from the Chicago Gangsters' "Gangster Boogie." It's an extremely light-hearted sample that's somewhat dissonant with the rest of the track, but the sheer joy of the singing makes the whole song danceable. Not only is LL Cool J going to crush his critics, but he's also going to bounce around the ring while doing it.

"Mama Said Knock You Out," in my opinion, earns LL Cool J at least some place in the rap hall of legends. While his earlier material is monotonous and dated, "Mama Said Knock You Out" sounds as fresh now as it did in 1990. While some of its lyrics have become cliché by now, it's the song that invented the clichés in the first place. "Mama Said Knock You Out" is one of the premier brag raps of the 90s, and it raised the bar for all subsequent rappers. Indeed, only a few rappers on this list managed to top it.

57. "Nothing Compares 2 U" - Sinéad O'Connor

I think there's a law preventing people from disliking "Nothing Compares 2 U." I haven't seen a single list of the best songs of the 90s that doesn't include it somewhere. Its placement is usually a matter of politics and musical bias, but it's always there. Being perfectly honest, I don't completely understand why, even though it's on my own. Many, including musicologist Adam Brent Houghtaling, have called it one of the saddest pop songs of all time, but there's nothing sadder here than that which is on, say Harry Nilsson's "Without You," Elton John's "Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word," or even a few pop songs we'll see later on this list. It's just a break-up song - a very finely crafted break-up song.

As most readers know, "Nothing Compares 2 U" is not an original song. The original writer was Prince, who penned "Nothing Compares 2 U" for a side-project of his called The Family. The track is fairly forgettable in its original form, mostly because it's not very good. Prince added several unneeded harmonies to the track, the melody is somewhat lacking, and the synthesizers have too much saw applied to actually sound good. Given what Prince was doing at the time, the low quality of the original track makes sense: Prince had just finished his Around the World in a Day album and was about to start sessions for the even bigger Parade. It's clear that "Nothing Compares 2 U" was an afterthought in Prince's otherwise extraordinary 80s career. Thus, it makes sense that the carefully conceived and executed Sinéad O'Connor cover is more beloved.

Every element of "Nothing Compares 2 U" is explicitly planned. The song has a tremendous sense of build, with everything from the vocals, to the drums, to the backing choir gradually filling into the track. In a sense, "Nothing Compares 2 U" channels the spirit of a far superior Prince song, "Purple Rain" - itself a masterpiece of crescendo and emotional pay-off. One of my favorite touches is the doubled vocal from O'Connor herself. While I don't find the delivery overly sad in and of itself, the doubled voices makes it seem as if O'Connor is singing in a tunnel, offering an illusion of distance and separation. Furthermore, the viola is given more emphasis in the arrangement than the violin; given the increased sonority of the lower string instrument, the tone sounds much richer. Also, despite the large number of instruments in the track - the vocals, the choirs, the strings, the drum machines, the piano - "Nothing Compares 2 U" sounds remarkably sparse. Songs like "Nothing Compares 2 U" often become top-heavy and overblown, but the actual song avoids most of the traps associated with songs of its genre.

Though Prince might not have crafted the music of "Nothing Compares 2 U" with much care, he definitely did a good job with the lyrics. "Nothing Compares 2 U" is all about relation - the key word is compares, not "U." Sinéad O'Connor, after losing her lover, finds the greatest amount of pain in her inability to view any experience except in relation to her former loved one. Everything loses meaning, from dating to daily routines. She is thus consigned to her despair, ceaselessly mourning for someone who will never return. She even asks for a return to the relationship, being "willing to give it another try," even though the lover was the one who took the love away in the first place. There's no happy ending on the horizon here.

"Nothing Compares 2 U" is rightfully regarded as a classic 90s pop song. Is it the best pop song of the period? I say no. Is it the best break-up song of the period? As we'll see later, I say no to that as well. However, it undoubtedly left a profound emotional impact on the listeners of the time. Its video is still one of the most respected in MTV history. And, of course, one cannot forget that everyone loves this song. And I love it too: just not as much as everyone else.

 56. "Venus as a Boy" - Björk

Of all the artists of the 90s, Björk is probably the hardest to discuss. Say so much as one negative thing about Björk in certain indie circles, and one will be crucified for criticizing the greatest avant-garde artiste of our generation. Say so much as one positive thing about Björk in certain classical circles, and one will be crucified for praising a woman who has inspired more damage to human vocal chords than any other. Say so much as anything about Björk to the average layperson, and you'll get a response of "that weird Icelandic chick who wore a giant swan?" Her music is challenging but often rewarding, grating but oddly beautiful. She clearly has no regard for proper vocal technique, but she has her own twisted approach to singing. What one can't deny, though, is her skill in arranging; she and her producers have crafted some truly extraordinary musical works. It was a tough call between "Venus as a Boy" and "All Is Full of Love," but while the latter is more beautiful and, dare I say it, more transcendent, "Venus as a Boy" is a bit more challenging, intellectually interesting, and more... Björky.

Upon release, "Venus as a Boy" became one of Björk's least beloved songs with the critics. I presume they were too won over by the rich, tribal beats of "Human Behavior" and the dance vibe of "Big Time Sensuality" to pay close enough attention to just how good "Venus as a Boy" is. Of all the tracks on Debut, it is certainly the most alien-sounding, using the sounds of the tablas and the vibraphone to create an otherworldly experience. There are clear Indian influences in the piece, particularly the sitar plucks at the end of each chorus. The vibraphone pulse that persists throughout the introduction and the verses is composed of two tones a whole step away; since there are only two pitches, they don't form a complete chord, but the step between them produces an alarming dissonance that pulls in the listener. It's certainly a jarring work of composition and instrumentation, but the musical elements ultimately manage to enhance the song's message.

"Venus as a Boy," like many other Björk songs, has very few actual lyrics aside from Björk's bizarre wailings. That being said, the lyrics here manage to produce a small but important message. "Venus as a Boy," as I see it, is an ode to female access to the carnal pleasures of lust. After the rise of Judeo-Christian morality, it became incredibly difficult for women to express sexuality without being censured (one can argue that this is still the case). But that inherent sexism was still in place in ancient Rome with men having access to carnal pleasure in the form of the female Venus, whereas heterosexual women lacked that same divine sanction of love. "Venus as a Boy" flips this, with the woman finally able to access the joys of access to the carnal with a male Venus. (Granted, this all assumes heteronormativity in sexual relationships, but that's a whole different topic; not every song can discuss the full range of gender political subjects.) Additionally, according to Björk herself, "Venus as a Boy" is equally about finding the beauty in everyday life, the beauty of brushing one's teeth in the morning, of a lovely autumn afternoon. When Venus "believes in beauty," he doesn't just believe in the beauty of the body; he believes in the beauty of the universe.

Of course, one cannot discuss a Björk song without discussing her singing voice. As a classically trained baritone, I do have some difficulty listening to Björk without wincing; her technique ranks right up with that of Yoko Ono in terms of heedless abandon and lack of control. However, I cannot call her singing as bad as Yoko's in any way. As I see it, Björk tries to test just what the human voice can do. If she were a guitarist, she'd be Jimi Hendrix, testing just how many ways she could play the instrument, as opposed to Andrés Segovia, who learned how to master classical guitar better than everybody else. Her vocal on "Venus as a Boy" is very much one of sexual ecstasy, with her screams evoking the spirit of an orgasm. This is not uncommon for Björk; the entire Vespertine album is essentially composed of the same sexual screams. However, "Venus as a Boy" was the first song in which Björk expressed her skill at expressing her sexual autonomy through singing. Thus, I'd give it the nod over anything else on that album.

Though not beloved in its day, "Venus as a Boy" has aged the best of all the songs on Debut. I vastly prefer it to anything on Post. Indeed, the only Björk song of the 90s I feel that challenges it is "All Is Full of Love," which deserves a few dozen listens (not to mention, it has one of the best music videos ever). Nonetheless, "Venus as a Boy" has the advantage of preceding most of Björk's other songs. It's sexual, alien, bizarrely beautiful - it's the perfect summation of Björk's 90s oeuvre. It's a challenge that continues to reward the listener.

55. "Animal Nitrate" - Suede

As good as Blur is, my favorite Britpop band is Suede. They're the second group to have two songs on the list, both from Suede's spectacular eponymous debut. "Animal Nitrate" is usually considered Suede's greatest and most popular song; while I'd argue that the former name is incorrect, the latter certainly is true. "Animal Nitrate" is nearly always the song that tops professional lists of the top ten Suede songs and that serves as Suede's representative track on top ten lists of the best Britpop songs. After all, it's the most beautiful song about dirty sex in British story.

"Animal Nitrate" begins with the greatest guitar riff in all of Britpop: Bernard Butler combines echo effects with a syncopated rhythm to produce a beautifully dark introduction. The heavy amount of distortion produces the effect of adding sevenths though the strummed chords themselves are simple triads. Thus, the entire introduction feels incomplete and sustained, as if an unfulfilled sexual desire lingering before the verse comes to satisfy it. It is quite difficult to hear Butler's stabbing strums throughout the verses as anything more than pelvic thrusts once one listens to the lyrics. Additionally, his bending the guitar strings throughout the chorus produces some melodic scoops that only further the raunchy nature of the tune.

Brett Anderson complements Butler's guitar at every turn. His gasping vocal practically swallows the words: indeed, his diction often muddles the specific terms of the lyrics. That being said, the general sentiment is not lost on the listener: Anderson's performance is very much sentiment over substance. The doubled vocals are a splendid touch, creating an auditory tunnel of sorts, boosting Anderson's light tenor into a clean channel. Normally, singers with weaker voices like Anderson wouldn't be able to sing over Butler's dominating guitar, but the studio manages to enhance Anderson's voice. While some might call this cheating, it certainly works in context. The hedonism of "Animal Nitrate" is one that overwhelms the senses; thus, each part of the track must work to produce the same washing effect upon the listener. To make that happen, the studio needs to enhance Anderson's voice. Thus, while I normally have disdain for artists who use studio tricks to compensate for lack of talent, I think I can give Suede a pass here.

Given how sexual the musical elements of the song are, one would expect the lyrics of "Animal Nitrate" to be similarly themed. While such an assumption is correct, the tone of "Animal Nitrate" is actually far less personal than one would expect. The band sings about a girl who is sexually and emotionally dependent on a man whose sexual exploits are nearly always drug-fueled and violent. Once the singer comes to have feelings for the girl, he realizes that he will always seem inferior to the extremely passionate (yet extremely unhealthy) sexual partner she had in her past. Perhaps the hazy atmosphere of the song is indicative of the narrator taking heavy drugs for the first time, so to gain some of the violent tendencies of his desire's previous lover.

That being said, "Animal Nitrate"'s creation and execution were just as drug-fueled as the subject matter. In the early years, Suede was extremely dependent on drugs to fuel their creativity. Suede found it difficult to channel the energy they had on stage into the music studio and - even more importantly - the music video studio. Thus, many of the music videos for their first few singles were made while the band was high. As a result, some of the imagery used - particularly some of the earliest instances of homosexual content in music video history - in the "Animal Nitrate" video ruffled some English feathers. Fortunately for British music, "Animal Nitrate" managed to endure in spite of the controversy, and the song itself has aged incredibly well. It's the "Purple Haze" of the 1990s.

54. "The Velvet Rope" - Janet Jackson

I like Janet Jackson more than Michael Jackson. Sue me.

In my view, Janet Jackson had all of the best elements of Michael Jackson while avoiding all of his downsides. Sure, she's never had a song as good as "Billie Jean" or "Beat It," but the number of solo pop stars who have had songs that good can be counted on one hand. More importantly, Janet Jackson is more consistently good, with not a single one of her hits being a dud, while Michael has had several ("The Girl Is Mine," "I Just Can't Stop Loving You"). She's had more high quality albums than Michael, with four unimpeachable records as compared to Michael's three. The last of these albums, 1997's The Velvet Rope, is as good an album as Thriller. And its title track is a powerhouse of introspective pop music the likes of which Michael Jackson wouldn't dare to tackle.

At its core, "The Velvet Rope" is about finding love and passion within a world built from oppression. Love serves as an escape, but the nature of the escape is somewhat uncertain. Is love a means of absolving oneself from the menaces of the world, a purifying of the spirit from the harms of oppression, or it merely a mask, hiding the pain underneath? The rest of the album discusses each of these possibilities in more detail, but "The Velvet Rope" suggests all the themes at once. Indeed, this is the central purpose of the symbol of the velvet rope. These ropes usually bar off the public from gaining access to the minds of pop stars, but Janet lets them down, so the public might see her pain, the pain of a world of constant demands and expectations. The hope is that someone might be able to see beyond the velvet sheen and appreciate that which is within. However, in a world as plastic as the United States in the late 1990s, such a hope is distant at best.

The element of "The Velvet Rope" that draws me most is the dissonance between the music and the lyrics. Overall, the general sentiment of the specific words of "The Velvet Rope" is hopeful: "Outside leave judgment/outside leave hate/one love's the answer/you'll find in you." However, the music illustrates the chaotic atmosphere both within and without. A cryptic piano line permeates the entire track, while funeral bells chime intermittently throughout the song. While Janet Jackson's voice beckons the listener in, the record scratches and drum machine strikes force him or her out, as if serving as the natural emotional barriers between two people. A haunting guitar line drifts in the background, while strings gradually lift the listener up. The world very much becomes a blur, in which Janet Jackson's voice is the only source of clarity.

Perhaps my favorite part of the entire song is the electric violin solo from British pop star Vanessa-Mae. A classically trained child prodigy, Vanessa-Mae is a violinist mired in controversy for both allegedly cheating in an alpine ski race as well as playing some solos for the human-rights abusing Chechnyan leader Ramzan Kadyrov at a gala. Though one might question her ethics, one cannot question her skills with the electric violin. Towards the end of the song, Vanessa-Mae pulls off a series of rapid runs that stun the listener, harnessing the full power of chaos into her instrument. The howl of the violin strings is the last sound one can hear on the track, and it's a fitting pitch to echo the pain of an injured world.

"The Velvet Rope" is an excellent start to an excellent album, one of my ten favorites of the entire decade. It's a diverse listen touching on a variety of controversial themes while incorporating several different genres of pop music. I'd even say it's the most daring album to come from any of the Jackson family members, if not the best album the family has ever made. It was difficult to choose any one song, what with "Got 'Til It's Gone" and "I Get Lonely" both making strong runs for the list. That being said, "The Velvet Rope" seems to encapsulate all the themes and struggles of the other tracks and harnesses them into a unified piece of music. It's intelligent pop music at its finest; why Janet didn't release it as a single is beyond me.

53. "This Is Hardcore" - Pulp 

I was torn as to whether or not to include Pulp's iconic "Common People," a song many publications consider to be the finest song of the 90s and the greatest piece of music to come from the Britpop scene. It is a great song, however, I find its "cathartic" accelerando to be somewhat contrived and simplistic. Additionally, its storytelling isn't particularly profound; it's essentially Billy Joel's "Uptown Girl" with more direct lyrics. Thus, I decided to put a different Pulp song on the list: the ever-controversial "This Is Hardcore." Many a band has written of its struggles to deal with the demands of the public, but few come as biting and cynical as this one.

At its core, "This Is Hardcore" is Pulp's response to the massive success of their disco-pop opus, Different Class. The public adored Different Class; the album went 4x platinum in 1996, being one of the most popular and enduring albums of the Britpop movement. That being said, the stress of following up this album and building on its momentum was tremendous; the strain of commercialism was not something of which Pulp frontman and lead singer, Jarvis Cocker, was particularly fond. Thus, with "This Is Hardcore," he likened the state of Pulp and the public to pornography. However, rather than merely insult the public, Cocker notes the tender balance between the band and the public. Though the public might demand more product, Pulp certainly enjoyed the money. Thus, when Cocker declares, "I wanna make a movie so let's star in it together," he opens up the dual complicity in the pornographic act. Sure, the actors make the movie, but they only make it because they'll earn money for it.

Musically, "This Is Hardcore" evokes the aesthetic of a James Bond picture, with languid trumpet pulses forming the song's musical backbone. The closed-fret guitar strokes are especially effective in creating an ominous atmosphere, allowing the simplistic melodies of the piano and the trumpets to ring over a tumultuous backing. The lower brass drives the song at its most tremendous points in the pre-chorus, with strings entering with several staccato notes to create miniature climaxes. The entire piece builds up to a massive final chorus, in which guitars, synthesizers, brass, strings, and strums all come together in a tremendous 4/4 throb.

Critically, "This Is Hardcore" has gotten more praise with age. Initially, there was quite a bit of backlash against the record, mostly due to the album cover depicting a woman in a sexually submissive position. Graffiti claiming "This Is Offensive" became common on English billboards advertising the album. Furthermore, some didn't like Pulp's shift from their disco-pop leanings to a more grim, mature sound. As I see it though, "This Is Hardcore" is the song in which Pulp shifted into high gear, the song in which they fully demonstrated their potential. It's a great song from one of the greatest Britpop bands.

52. "Torn" - Natalie Imbruglia

I often have asked my elders about those music stars who should have had bigger careers than they actually did. Often, they respond with artists who died before their time - figures like Jim Croce and Harry Chapin. Others point to Tracy Chapman and Roberta Flack, artists known for some spectacular singles but lackluster albums. However, there's one songwriter whose lack of continued success still manages to baffle me: Natalie Imbruglia. Here's an artist who had everything: a unique trip-hop inspired sound, a major record label behind her, a competent voice, not to mention the fact that she's drop dead gorgeous. And then there's "Torn," one of the best pop singles of the 90s.

Most people don't realize that "Torn" is a cover of a song by a band named Edna Swap. The original is a fairly generic 90s alt rock song; however, it has significant melodic deficiencies. It's extremely heavy-handed, being overly slow and tedious. The Natalie Imbruglia version takes a different approach, increasing the tempo and brightening the tone. It's also far more produced, incorporating synthesizers and drum machines as opposed to the bare bones accompaniment of the original. While such production would normally come to a song's detriment, it is more than effective the case of "Torn." If anything, the original "Torn" takes itself too seriously, carrying itself as if it were the most important break-up song in music history. That's clearly not the case: lyrically, "Torn" is no "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" or "Don't Think Twice - It's All Right."

Much like the classic Shangri-La's hit, "Past, Present, and Future," "Torn" concerns itself not with a break-up itself, but rather the residue of that break-up. The narrator, emotionally drained from a previous break-up, is unwilling to start up a relationship with someone new: "you're a little late/I'm already torn." The song's main lyrical strength, though, is its imagery: "there's nothing where he used to lie/my inspiration has run dry" being my personal favorite. Just the thought of the empty bed is enough to tell a tremendous story. "Torn" also manages to make a relatively verbose chorus catchy: what other pop song could sell the line "I'm cold and I am shamed/lying naked on the floor" as a sing-along?

The musical elements of Imbruglia's "Torn" are even better than the lyrics. I love the guitar tone throughout the track; the blend of acoustic strums and electric arpeggios produces a unified sound. I'm also quite fond of the dominant 7th added to the IV chord of the main progression - the seventh creates a hesitancy within the song structure, highlighting the vocalist's agony when considering a new romance. Natalie Imbruglia herself gives a very emotional performance. Some might dislike her somewhat twee voice, but she's practically crying through the song. When she futilely declares, "that's what's going on" towards the outro of the song, it's a punch to the gut. That's not to mention the beautiful guitar solo at the end, with its achingly beautiful glissandos and crystal pure tone.

With songs as subtle and poignant as "Torn," it's a wonder that Natalie Imbruglia hasn't had a bigger career than she actually has had. While she's never fallen far from popular and critical grace, she's never had a song of the same scale as "Torn" on the pop charts. If anything, I guess Natalie Imbruglia is a bit too experimental for mainstream pop fans and is a bit too mainstream for indie fans. Her debut, Left of the Middle, is very much a trip-hop album, but not of the same production scale as Massive Attack's Blue Lines, Protection, or Mezzanine. Thus, it was hard for her to find a niche. As I see it though, she's one of the most unfairly overlooked pop musicians of the 90s. Indeed, if the chorus of "Torn" didn't use a standard I - V - vi - IV chord progression, it would be even higher on the list. It's a standard-bearer for great 90s pop.

51. "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" - The Smashing Pumpkins

The Smashing Pumpkins: perhaps the most quintessential alternative rock band of the 1990s. While not as popular as Nirvana or as indie-beloved as Pavement, the Smashing Pumpkins were the most versatile alternative rock band of the entire decade. Able to transition from classically-inspired pieces like "Tonight, Tonight" to the grunge of "Today" to the techno-pop inspired "1979," the Smashing Pumpkins easily became every alternative rock fan's favorite band. That being said, I've always found the Pumpkins' songs somewhat difficult to enjoy. The problem: the voice of Billy Corgan, the Smashing Pumpkins' lead singer. Most of the Smashing Pumpkins' most respected songs are those on which he tries to sound beautiful, but his voice, to my ears, is only ever so slightly more pleasant than that of a bleating goat. Thus, I find any "beautiful" song with his voice behind it inherently unconvincing. There's only one context in which I can wholly endorse Billy Corgan's singing: hard rock. As if to answer my prayers, "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" exists. And it is amazing.

There are plenty of "hard" Smashing Pumpkins' songs, with "Cherub Rock" being the most renowned and beloved. However, "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" hits louder and harder. Granted, the lyrics are almost embarrassingly bad (seriously, "despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage?" Who wrote this: a freshman boy who got rejected for homecoming?), but the music rises above the subject matter. "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" is the purest expression of musical anger in the entire 1990s. Considering this is the decade that gave us Kelis's "Caught Out There," Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit," and the Rollins Band's "Liar," that's making quite a statement. Yet Corgan's fury isn't Achillean, bursting out at the slightest provocation; rather, it foments before bubbling into a head-bang inducing chorus.

The key to "Bullet with Butterfly Wings"'s success is the rhythm section. The bass line provides a steady and threatening undertone, while the bass drum provides a steady heartbeat. The off-beat timpani strikes, however, indicate Corgan's emotional imbalance. The snares flash in the pre-chorus, as if taunting memories of emotional abusing popping into focus. All the while, the guitar provides a quaint ambience, letting the rhythm section pop. Come the chorus, and all the instruments spring to life: there's even one of the most memorable drum breaks of the entire decade.

"Bullet with Butterfly Wings" is taunting, snide, and straightforward. On paper, it's very much a standard rock song. But, in execution, it's quite possibly the most cathartic release of the 1990s. Few words can put to justice exactly what effect the song has. In my mind, it's the only song in the Smashing Pumpkins' catalogue that plays to all of the members' strengths. Although it's a relatively simple piece, its sheer effectiveness warrants its relatively high position. Indeed, if the lyrics were stronger, it would have taken an even higher spot. As it is though, it's one of the best alternative hard rock songs ever written.