Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Top 100 Best Songs of the 1990s: Part 2 (90-81)

Let's keep the list a-rolling...

90. "I Used to Love H.E.R." - Common Sense

Several hardcore hip-hop fans might be disappointed in my placing this song so low, but I have my reasons. "I Used to Love H.E.R." is one of the most admired story-telling raps in history, with About.com ranking it as the best rap song ever written. It's a bait and switch song with a punch-line now famous in the annals of popular music. Though simple in its conceit, "I Used to Love H.E.R." ends up being an extremely powerful song in its duality; it can be read two wholly different ways while reaching two similarly powerful conclusions.

Throughout the song, Common Sense (now known as Common) discusses his long-standing relationship with an unnamed girl. Said girl manages to capture his heart and his career, as she becomes drawn to his raps. Eventually, she moves to the West Coast and begins using her image for money, practically prostituting herself. In the final verse, Common Sense reveals that the "girl" in question is actually hip-hop music itself: the music has abandoned its soulful, Afrocentric South Bronx in favor of the G-funk, gangster rap of the West Coast. However, should one choose to ignore the last couplet, the song's clever lyrics still hold up as a story about an actual girl.

If we do accept the possibility of "I Used to Love H.E.R." being about an actual girl, some issues arise. Could not Common Sense's criticisms of the girl and hip-hop be unfair to female sexual autonomy (at least so far as third-wave feminism is concerned) and hip-hop's musical development? Perhaps. I, however, like to think Common Sense manages to allay these concerns. In the second verse, the girl/hip-hop is clearly free to make her own choices. The girl has full sexual autonomy and uses it. Similarly, hip hop has plenty of musical diversity to keep it going. Even the initial move to the West Coast is not seen as a bad thing: the girl still manages herself well and hip-hop is still a musically interesting genre. Common Sense has an issue when producers and manipulative boyfriends begin controlling hip-hop/the girl's path. He blames the pimp, not the prostitute. By the same token, he doesn't blame the whole West Coast for hip-hop's stagnation, but only those rappers who would write limp, passionless hip-hop songs (such as Dr. Dre's "Nuthin' But a G Thang," a highly acclaimed hip hop song that will not be featured on this list because of its terrible lyricism). Most of all, Common Sense has hope that the girl/hip-hop can make the right choices and return to its roots.

"I Used to Love H.E.R." is a pointed, highly effective hip hop classic. Why, then, is it so low on the list? Personally, I find the beat to be somewhat unmemorable. Sure the "yes, yes ya'll, you don't stop" chorus hearkens back to the early age of hip-hop, but the rest of the beat is somewhat limp. The track centers around George Benson's "The Changing World," a fairly average jazz song. While the beat certainly works for the song, it's just not as energetic as other hip-hop songs of the 90s. The music is just a bit too laid back to compete with the absolute best of the 90s rap songs, and it's not wholly suitable for the song's tone. "I Used to Love H.E.R." is proof that a song needs both strong music and lyrics in order to climb its way to the top of this list.

89. "3 A.M." - Matchbox Twenty

Pop music criticism and rock music criticism have rarely ever gotten along, more often than not due to rock criticism's overwhelmingly high standards and pop criticism's ridiculously low standards. Usually, I tend to err on the side of high standards and rock critics. However, there are a few times when rock criticism tends to completely ignore the quality and impact of good pop songs outside certain beloved niche genres. Matchbox Twenty's "3 A.M." is one of those times.

The critical backlash against Matchbox Twenty is a phenomenon that continues to baffle me. The band members are more than competent when it comes to playing their instruments. Rob Thomas is an excellent baritone singer. The songwriting is simple while containing enough complexity in the instrumentation to carry multiple listens. But while said simplicity is enough to carry songs like "Bent" and "Push" to the status of mere enjoyability, it is enough to secure "3 A.M."'s overall greatness through its deception. Though extremely simple and direct in its approach, "3 A.M." uses its seemingly bright atmosphere to disguise a song about teenage pain and development.

Rob Thomas wrote "3 A.M." about his mother who was diagnosed with cancer when Thomas was 12. The lyrics express his fear about his mother's potential death as the cancer spreads: "And she only sleeps when it's raining/And she screams, and her voice is straining." The rain serves as a metaphor for illness and suffering, a near constant presence throughout the song. The chorus is joyous only reluctantly, struggling through the pain to declare the Thomas family's endurance. Fortunately, Thomas's mother made a recovery, but the song ends on a sadder note. When the rain finally stops, we are left with only one grave conclusion.

The critical blindspot most 90s rock fans have for "3 A.M." is a lamentable one. Fortunately, the pop charts recognized the song's greatness and carried the song all the way to the top of the Canadian pop charts and number three on the American pop charts. Thomas has since been given a Starlight Award from the Songwriter Hall of Fame for his work with Matchbox Twenty: with a song as good as "3 A.M." under Thomas's belt, I cannot fault the Hall for its decision.

88. "Rebel Girl" - Bikini Kill

The rarity of genuine feminist songs is a blight on the face of rock and roll as a serious art form. Only two songs of the type really come to mind prior to the 90s: Aretha Franklin's "Respect" and Helen Reddy's "I Am Woman," only one of which is actually good. During the 90s, however, a new genre of feminist music emerged: riot grrrl. Riot grrrl is a subset of punk music featuring nearly all-female bands singing radically feminist music. It's almost militant in its approach, hammering in themes of personal privacy, sexual openness, and gender inequality with the force of a howitzer. Though I was tempted to give a spot to Sleater-Kinney's "Dig Me Out," the best song by riot grrrl's best band, I knew the rank would ultimately fall to "Rebel Girl," the song that ultimately started the movement.


One of the most aggressive and militant sounding songs of the 90s, “Rebel Girl” makes a statement from the very first blast of guitar. This song is up close and brutal in its honesty, with one of the raunchiest guitar licks of the decade and an uncompromising attitude. Lead singer Kathleen Hannah, arguably the most important figure in all of riot grrrl, sounds like Cree Summer if she was woken up at four in the morning. Oddly enough, though, this all works in the song’s favor. The marching drum beat is a practical call to arms, with the whole might of the band joining in on the triumphant chorus. Though the song is lyrically ambiguous (Is it celebrating the sexually liberated woman? Is it an ode to lesbianism? I don't know.), the attitude is unmistakable.

"Rebel Girl"'s importance to 90s punk and the riot grrrl cannot be understated. However, I cannot in good conscience place it any higher on this list. The song shares the same chord progression, melody, and attitude with a 70s song by another all-female group: "Cherry Bomb" by the Runaways. That being said, I have no problems listening to the song and appreciating it for what it is. After all, Led Zeppelin's entire first album is copy-pasted works of Willie Dixon and Howlin' Wolf turned up to eleven. Thus, I like to think of "Rebel Girl" as a continuation of "Cherry Bomb" into a new decade rather than a simple rehash. It builds upon the legacy of feminism to form a whole new musical movement.

87. "On the Run" - Kool G Rap and DJ Polo

"Gangsta" rap: the words are divisive upon their very utterance. During the 90s, gangsta rap completely dominated the entire world of hip-hop, with one's "street cred" being almost a prerequisite to one's making it as a rapper. Thus, the genre formed a division between the hip-hop purists of the 80s, still listening to their Marley Marl and Run-DMC records, and the more aggressive fans of the 90s, flocking to the music of Ice-T. Even worse was the political divisiveness, as politicians like future Presidents Bill Clinton and George W. Bush criticized the genre for glamorizing violence and correlating with higher crime rates. Nonetheless, the genre gave birth to some of the greatest lyrical rap songs ever developed. One such song comes from the original hip-hop mafioso, Kool G Rap: the classic "On the Run."

"On the Run" is one of the all-time great story-telling raps. A drug middleman who makes deliveries for the mob finds his life too oppressive and decides to break from the mob. He steals several thousand dollars worth of cocaine, proceeding to head out on the lamb with his wife and son. The Luciano crime family comes in hot pursuit; Kool G Rap then takes out the entire mob in a Dirty Harry-esque fashion. The story is patently ridiculous, but Kool G Rap's effortless flow and confident delivery makes it incredibly compelling. After all, it's a far better story-telling rap than A Tribe Called Quest's "I Left My Wallet in El Segundo" - a story-telling rap song whose story doesn't extend much further than the title. Furthermore, one could interpret the entire story as a sham; perhaps Kool G Rap has been shot by the mob for his treachery and is living out his fantasy inside his head,f all the while bleeding out on the street corner. The bleak tone of the production certainly suggests an even darker undercurrent to the narrative.

Speaking of the production, DJ Polo does an incredible job. Rap has always used Motown samples to its advantage, but few samples work so effectively as "On the Run"'s quoting the Temptations' 1970 psychedelic soul classic, "Ball of Confusion (That's What the World Is Today)." The simple chanting of "run, run, run, but you sure can't hide" brings the two songs into conversation: the chaotic and violent world of Kool G Rap is a byproduct of the ball of confusion the Temptations inveighed against back in the 70s. The main beat comes from saxophonist Joe Farrell's "Canned Funk," and it's a dark groove emulating a cautious heartbeat.

Granted, "On the Run" isn't perfect. The casual sexism directed towards Kool G Rap's girlfriend is excessive and doesn't add to the song. Furthermore, while the flow is effective, Kool G Rap doesn't dabble in too much wordplay, as opposed to his successors. All the same, "On the Run" christened mafiosi rap as a legitimate subgenre of gangsta rap. If it weren't for "On the Run" and singles like it, Nas's landmark Illmatic might never have been released. But that's a discussion for later.

86. "Iris" - Goo Goo Dolls

It is likely my generation at work, but there seems to be a bias towards defending 90s "guilty pleasures" as opposed to guilty pleasures of the 70s and 80s. I've heard defenses of songs like OMC's "How Bizarre," Lou Bega's "Mambo No. 5," the Backstreet Boys' "I Want It That Way," Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You," and Hanson's "Mmmbop" - all songs I am more than willing to throw into the trash and never listen to again. Oddly enough, though, I haven't heard any strong defenses of the Goo Goo Dolls' massive 1998 single, "Iris." Certainly, "Iris" has plenty of sins as far as 90s pop songs are concerned - it's schmaltzy, it's massively overplayed, it's part of a soundtrack to a Nicolas Cage movie - but I feel those sins are minor compared to the song's many, many virtues.

Most of the complaints levied at "Iris" point directly to the lyrics - a pile of mushy, gushy love lyrics about people failing to understand the protagonist. In many ways, "Iris" represents all of 90s alternative rock's relentlessly commercial self-loathing wrapped up in one song. In my opinion, the music manages to completely make up for the song's lyrical failings. People tend to forget that "Iris" is an extremely rich musical piece, switching its time signature from 3/4 to 4/4 during the bridge in order to suggest the passing of time. Furthermore, the guitars are tuned in D, offering a hopeful quality as opposed to the typically emotionless standard tuning. Though the lyrics are admittedly limp and cliché, the music itself suggests moving past these clichés and into a broader future.

Even more impressive is the sound production. After the success of "Name," the Goo Goo Dolls were given access to more studio tools. The upgraded resources show. "Iris" sounds massive: violins, mandolins, drums, cellos, guitars, bass, doubled vocals - they all fit and they all work. The 3/4 primary time signature is also effect, creating an almost circular effect in the triplet articulations. "Iris" almost becomes a world unto itself in its musical rotation. The musical breakdown in the bridge is a perfect emotional breakdown as well, with the staccato articulations setting up a simple but effective guitar solo. As the feedback cools down, so to do the listener's emotions.

To top it off, "Iris" is a beautiful song. Sometimes, that's just enough. Call it a guilty pleasure if you will: I call it a genuinely good pop song.

85. "Cannonball" - The Breeders

I love the Pixies. Doolittle is one of my all-time favorite albums, and "Monkey Gone to Heaven" is one of the greatest songs of the 80s. That being said, I'm not so much a fan of the two Pixies albums released in the 90s, Bossanova and Trompe Le Monde. They don't have the same punch of the Pixies' 80s material. Also, I've never been as big a fan of the Pixies' songs featuring bassist Kim Deal on vocals: it's not that she's a bad singer or anything, but these songs just aren't as memorable as those sung by Black Francis/Frank Black. Fortunately, Kim Deal found a new outlet in which to display her considerable talents as a guitarist, vocalist, and songwriter: the Breeders. And their magnum opus, "Cannonball," is a blast of indie rock bliss.

"Cannonball" isn't really one song; it's more of a combination of several incomplete songs. However, much like the Beatles' "A Day in the Life," "Cannonball" does not suffer from a lack of cohesion. Rather, the musical elements of the album meld together quite nicely. Josephine Wiggs's bass line anchors the song into a steady groove, allowing the rest of the instrumentation to fall neatly into place. Also impressive is Jim MacPherson's drum work: he effectively uses snare drum and the rise cymbal to create an almost melodic drum line. That little bit of jazz flavor really enhances the overall song. Kim Deal's seductive vocal is also effective in its coyness, switching from innocent and twee to raw and forceful. Josephine Wiggs and rhythm guitarist Tanya Donnelly also create enjoyable backing harmonies, allowing Kim Deal's main line to shine that much more.

"Cannonball" even takes some time to innovate. The opening blast of microphone feedback demonstrates how noise can be used to actually develop a musical idea, as opposed to Nirvana's "Serve the Servants," released that same year.  The sparsity of the musical elements in the song's introduction advanced the notion of "building" a song that would come to define many of the decade's best indie rock songs. Even the howling microphone feedback that occasionally permeates the verses would come back in the songs of groups like Collective Soul.

Though its lyrics aren't impressive, "Cannonball" has enough musical diversity and swagger to lift it into the pantheon of great 90s music. It's the finest Pixies-penned song of the 90s in a decade that seemed to be about wholly copying the Pixies' schtick. Leave it to Kim Deal herself to show the rest of the world how to write a Pixies song correctly.

84. "Hideaway" - The Olivia Tremor Control

Few groups of musicians are more important to indie rock than the Elephant 6 Recording Company. An indie label noted for its fixation on late 60s pop, the Elephant 6 Recording Company was noted for a variety of throwback indie groups that would later come under its label, such as The Apples in Stereo and Of Montreal. The most successful of these groups, critically, is Neutral Milk Hotel, with their album In the Aeroplane Over the Sea being hailed as one of the greatest albums ever written (an album I don't actually like). In my opinion, though, the greatest of the Elephant 6 Recording Company artists is the Olivia Tremor Control, a group whose Beatlesque pop sound would produce some of the best indie songs of the decade. I considered "Jumping Fences" for this list, but I ultimately had to choose the nigh flawless "Hideaway."

"Hideaway" is a pop song so perfect that it's difficult to put just what makes it so great into words. I could endlessly praise the choice to double singer Bill Doss's vocals, the Pet Sounds-inspired sound collage at the song's opening, the use of major sevenths to create subtle emotional dissonances, the staccato of the trumpets, and every other individual musical element in the song. But to praise any one element is to ignore a half dozen others. The song doesn't come in through individual instruments and melodic lines; rather, it washes over the listener, embracing him/her in a lush foam of sounds. "Hideaway" creates its own little sonic universe, as if the band is surrounding the listener and playing right to him/her.

"Hideaway" also manages to avoid most of the lyrical traps of 90s indie pop songs, using its relatively erudite vocabulary sparingly and effectively. No other song can use "apathy" and "obliques" within the course of two minutes without firing off "pretension" warnings, but "Hideaway" does so effortlessly. The song's ultimate chorus - "So long, Sekhu; goodbye, Ren" - is an allusion to the William S. Burrough's novel, The Western Lands: a book itself referencing the passage of time discussed in the Egyptian Book of the Dead. The intention: the loss of the body/the remains is not nearly so important as coming to grips with one's emotions/spirituality. The references serve to enhance "Hideaway'"s relatively simple message - embrace one's own personal intricacies and celebrate one's individuality - rather than obfuscate it. One can enjoy the song with or without reading The Western Lands; it's just an extra treat if one has.

"Hideaway" is pure auditory joy. If this were merely a list of my favorite songs of the 90s, "Hideaway" could have easily ascended a few dozen spots. However, its overall influence on the decade is rather limited. Thus, it must linger in the bottom quarter of the list. Nonetheless, it, and the rest of the Olivia Tremor Control's catalogue, still stands as some of the finest psychedelic pop the 90s have to offer.

RIP Bill Doss.

83. "Mother '93" - Danzig

Late 70s-80s hard rock once dominated the mainstream rock charts. However, after 1982, it became increasingly rare for AC/DC and Black Sabbath inspired hard rock hits to hit the top of the charts. Necessarily, as the demand for these hard rock songs fell, so too did the supply. By the 1990s, the genre was operating almost purely for the sake of niche markets, and the quality had dropped off severely. But a few strong contenders remained. While AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" is the more common choice for a list like this, Brian Johnson's then-(and now)-tired vocals drag the song off the list completely. Instead, I turn to a far more interesting hard rock icon: Glenn Danzig.

Danzig was once the lead singer of the seminal hardcore punk band, Misfits. Known for his extremely powerful and accomplished vocals in a genre that favored pure screaming, Danzig made his name by practically inventing horrorcore punk, one of the most intense subgenres of music in pop music history. Eventually, Danzig disbanded Misfits to embark on a variety of musical projects. Undoubtedly his most successful project was his eponymous band, Danzig: a band responsible for releasing some of the best hard rock of the 80s and 90s. The foremost song of his catalogue: the 1988 single, "Mother."

However, the version of this song that makes this list is the live release, "Mother '93," one of the rare live recordings that manages to trump the studio version. A re-recording so energetic as to make most audiences completely forget the original, "Mother '93" is one of the most testosterone-filled songs in existence. Danzig tears into the melody as if a rabid Rottweiler. The guitar solo is as powerful and effective as the original, enhanced by subtle echo effects on the bent notes. John Christ is a rather underrated guitarist, and he more than makes a name for himself with his blends of riffs and solos. The production is nonpareil: sound engineers don't come much better than Rick Rubin. This is a re-release that more than fits the bill.

Additionally, "Mother '93" breaks the mold of most meat-headed hard rock tracks by having genuinely interesting lyrical content. "Mother '93" is addressed to the mother of potential hard rock listeners, castigating them for not permitting their children to listen to rock music; simultaneously, Danzig invites the mother to listen to the rock music for herself and enjoy it for what it is. Danzig wrote "Mother" in reaction to the rise of Tipper Gore and the Parents Music Resource Center, a group intent on putting warning labels on CDs so to warn parents of potentially offensive musical content. Perhaps the greatest irony of the entire lyrical debacle is the inherent hypocrisy of Gore and the other PMRC members: they themselves were of the generation that got the hyper-sexual rock and roll movement started in the first place. Their complaining about Glenn Danzig is no better than their parents complaining about Elvis Presley.

"Mother '93" is a blast of pure energy disguising a subversive message that is geared as much towards parents as it is for kids. With this track, Danzig proved he could go beyond merely scaring parents and instead cause them to think. Glenn Danzig would go on to call "Mother" the best song he's ever written, and I tend to agree. It's a song as intelligent as brainless rock songs can get.

82. "Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)" - Jay-Z

My most recent review was the 2014 remake of Annie: needless to say, I didn't like the movie very much. See the actual review for my thoughts, but at least part of my disappointment comes from the fact that the movie failed to capitalize on Jay-Z's complete re-appropriation of the musical's "It's a Hard Knock Life" in his greatest 90s track, "Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)." Often considered the song that launched Jay-Z into the public consciousness, "Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)" manages to overcome the materialistic and sexist content of much of the verses through its combination of clever sampling and expert lyricism.

Jay-Z's flow on "Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)" is quite possibly his slickest ever put to record. He navigates enjambments, syncopations, and internal rhymes nigh effortlessly, putting many lesser rappers to shame. He even goes so far as to compare himself to his fellow East Coast rapper, the Notorious B.I.G., often cited as the greatest flow rapper of all time. Each of his verses tells a different part of his ascension to the top of the rap world. The first illustrates the harsh realities of Shawn Carter's selling cocaine on the streets during his teenage years; the second progresses to his development of his rap career, particularly the skill he demonstrated on his first album, Reasonable Doubt; the final verse presents Jay-Z as the undisputed king of the rap world. 27 years later, and he's still on top.

Equally important to "Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)" is the re-appropriation of the chorus from Annie's "It's a Hard Knock Life." In the original movie, "It's a Hard Knock Life" served to illustrate the frustration of young children at doing all the chores for an abusive orphanage owner and their anger at never being shown any love. "Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)" goes a step further, using the sample to illustrate black Americans' frustration at being held down and given no assistance from a society still generally dominated by whites, a matter of systemic racism that is the center of most of 2015's US domestic policy controversies. Coincidentally enough, Jay-Z and producer The 45 King had to jump through their own legal hurdles in order to use the sample without getting sued; Jay-Z ended up lying and telling the producers of the film that Annie was a tremendous influence on his life in order to get the sample cleared. Needless to say, "Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)" more than satisfies modern fair use standards for sampling: the throbbing bass and accented percussion blasts make the chorus that much more intense. 

That being said, some can raise legitimate concerns about the song's lyrical content. Indeed, on its face, most of "Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)" can be considered a standard cash-cars-hoes brag rap serving only to inflate the rapper's ego: a trope so common to rap music as to be downright suffocating. Even worse, the materialism expressed in the first verse might suggest that "Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem" feeds into a shallow hip-hop culture that is at best short-sighted and at worst outright misogynistic and classist. But, should one look closer at the lyrics, there are actually some key mitigating factors. Consider the line, "I flow for chicks wishin'/they ain't have to strip to pay tuition." Properly interpreted, the line indicates that Jay-Z gave many of the proceeds from his rap career to girls he knew so that they might not have to prostitute themselves to pay for their education, a noble deed that Jay-Z actually did in real life. "Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)" is full of similar lines, making it far more than a standard brag rap.

"Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)" turned Jay-Z into a superstar and established him as one of the seminal East Coast rappers. Unfortunately, at the time, Jay-Z was neither the best nor the most influential rapper on the scene, with both Nas and Notorious B.I.G. trouncing him in terms of influence and quality. Granted, after the 2000s hit, few rappers would be able to match him, as The Blueprint and The Black Album would make Jay-Z an undeniable legend in his own right. But, as far as the 90s are concerned, Jay-Z is only a welterweight. That being said, "Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem)" is one hell of a hook.

81. "November Rain" - Guns n' Roses

Much like its more muscle-bound companion exemplified by "Mother '93", the power ballad died fast and died hard in the 1990s. Epic tracks along the lines of "Stairway to Heaven," "Hotel California," and "Free Bird" were nowhere to be seen and were laughably bad whenever they were seen. However, even in the midst of a dark period for rock epics, it's still difficult to see Guns n' Roses as the standard bearer for a dying genre. In my eyes, Guns n' Roses is one of the most overhyped groups of the 80s, lavished with unwarranted critical attention for one good song ("Welcome to the Jungle") and two overrated albums. They were not innovators nor were they the sole defenders of traditional hard rock in a decade mired in hair metal. That being said, "November Rain" is one of the most incredible power ballads ever recorded.

I've never liked Guns n' Roses more famous power ballad, "Sweet Child O' Mine," due to its tremendous lack of emotional immediacy. The exact opposite applies to "November Rain": for once, I genuinely believe Axl Rose cares about what he's singing. "November Rain" practically condenses much of the drama of Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms into nine minutes, telling a story of love lost yet cherished in the moment. When Axl Rose sings "do you need some time on your own?," he's almost eloquent in his phrasing, a adjective one can rarely ever ascribe to Axl Rose. None of the individual lyrics are particularly profound, but the overall sentiment tells a much bigger story than any one specific line. It seems almost paradoxical to claim "less is more" is at work in "November Rain," but the idea is certainly alive and well in the lyrics.

The production of "November Rain" is also some of the finest on any power ballad. The orchestra, the mixing, the drum crashes: everything is in its right place. Axl Rose's piano is even subtle enough to drive the musical gestures home. There seems to be a musical theme of distance, with the audio levels on the strings and piano being much lower than those of the guitar and drums. In addition, Axl Rose's vocals are doubled, creating an internal echo further distancing the listener. We behold the full majesty of the song in all its nine minute glory.

Then there are Slash's guitar solos. Commenting on their quality is somewhat difficult, as all three have been cited as some of the very best guitar solos in rock history. The howls of the first two solos ache with the same pain as Jimi Hendrix's classic "Little Wing" while the final solo is as haunting as Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb." Furthermore, Slash never needs to compromise technical skill for emotional payoff. We get both, and we're thus dually awed.

Though perhaps too flashy for its own good and overly expensive in the execution of its music video, "November Rain" is nonetheless the best power ballad of the 90s. Certainly, the decade was better at representing emotional subtlety than emotional extremes, but "November Rain" proves that the raw emotions of the 80s had not fully left the soundscape. It may have been a dying gasp from a dying genre, but "November Rain" left quite the impression.

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