I used to have a thing about my musical tastes. I so desperately wanted them to be cool, or at the very least be something that only a handful of people were privy to. (I was tempted to say ‘hip’ instead of ‘privy,’ but you can’t spell ‘hipster’ without ‘hip,’ and God knows I’m not hip enough to be a hipster.) My friend Kathi, she has obscenely cool taste in music. I’m surprised she’s friends with me, since I surely bring her cool factor down by a good 20 points.
Then a couple of years ago, I realized – who the hell cares? A great song is a great song, and it doesn’t really matter how popular – or unpopular – it is. I can’t tell you how freeing that was, and I have a very well-known blogger to thank for it. When she admitted to me in private how much she enjoyed a band at Lollapalooza, only to dismiss them a few days later in her column, I realized that it was completely pointless to pander to hipster elitism. You’re being dishonest with yourself, and the hipsters are only going to turn on you in the end, anyway.
So I turned a blind eye to what was a pop song versus what was a “pop” song, as it were, and realizing that there was no distinction between the two made everything soooooo much easier. So here we are in 2009, and as part of our recap of the best music the decade had to offer, I have to try to apply this whole revisionist history viewpoint to the entire decade, which is no mean feat, to say the least. It therefore makes sense that assembling one big-ass list of songs will look like the work of someone with multiple personalities, so instead they are cut up into bite-sized lists for easier consumption, with YouTube links for the uninitiated.
Top 10 Modern Rock Songs of the 2000s 10. “Do You Want To,” Franz Ferdinand
“Take Me Out” was the bigger hit, but this song swings like Austin Powers in the jungle. Nice riff on “My Sharona” in the break, too.
6. “American Idiot,” Green Day
The only sad thing about this song is that Joey Ramone didn’t live long enough to hear it.
5. “I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor,” Arctic Monkeys
I love the way these guys riff on Duran Duran lyrics, and then act as if they made it all up themselves. As the old adage says, talent borrows, but genius steals. And for the record, we don’t care for sand, either.
3. “Laura,” Scissor Sisters
For all the progress that was made this decade in terms of hip hop and black culture becoming more accepted on pop radio, it appears that the gays still have a long road ahead of them. Pity.
2. “Never Miss a Beat,” Kaiser Chiefs
They opened their set at Lollapalooza with this. The only other band to grab me by the throat like that with their opening song is, well, My #1…
1. “Knights of Cydonia,” Muse
September 11, 2006, Columbus, Ohio. Muse opens their set with this song, blows the roof off the place.
9. “Drops of Jupiter,” Train
They did a great job recreating the Elton John sound. Too bad they didn’t have Bernie Taupin write the lyrics. Fried chicken? Ugh.
8. “Music,” Madonna
I watched this song take one of those sports bars that has basketball courts and bowling alleys, and turn every one of its patrons into dancing fools.
7. “Is It Any Wonder?,” Keane
Dogged by some for its similarity to U2, but when was the last time U2 wrote something this bouncy?
5. “Chasing Pavements,” Adele
It took two Grammy wins for this song to finally crack the Top 40. (*shakes head in disbelief*)
4. “Hey Ya,” Outkast
Andre 3000 finally picks up a guitar to write a song, and this, THIS, is the first thing that comes out. Mother, fucker.
3. “Crazy,” Gnarls Barkley
When my mom comes home from a trip to see my brother on the east coast and tells me about a song she heard by a band whose name is similar to some celebrity or other, I know that said celebrity knockoff band has struck a chord.
2. “99 Problems,” Jay-Z
“You crazy for this one, Rick!” Actually, Jay-Z, you have it the other way around. You crazy if you make this song with anyone other than Rick Rubin.
1. “Umbrella,” Rihanna
It was at least a year before I made the effort to find out what the hubub was about this damn “Umbrella” song. And then I heard it. Holy shit, this song pisses genius.
Big in the UK 7. “LDN,” Lily Allen
No guy wants to hear his ex tell the world what a lousy lover he is, but is there a man alive that doesn’t want a shot at Lily Allen?
6. “Nearer Than Heaven,” Delays
My favorite new musical expression of the decade: skyscraper, used to describe a song with soaring melodies. And this puppy’s the Empire State Building.
5. “Boyfriend,” Alphabeat
That this album didn’t even see the light of day in the States shows just how myopic our views of pop music have become.
1. “Kids,” Robbie Williams & Kylie Minogue
Another song I thought had a shot at cracking the US charts. Funky verses, slammin’ choruses, what’s not to love? Robbie Williams, apparently. He never gained the traction here that other UK singers did. Strange.
Best Pop Songs You Never Heard
Of course, you probably have heard most of these songs, but I didn’t have another category to place them in, so they’re going here instead.
“Nice,” Duran Duran
Easily the band’s best song since “Ordinary World” and “Come Undone.” Anyone who likes Rio but has since given up on the band, go listen to this at once.
“I Believe She’s Lying,” Jon Brion
Los Angeles’ resident mad genius of pop finally gets his 1997 album Meaningless released in early 2001. Power pop fans proceed to lose their minds. And can you blame them? Listen to that drum track. It’s like the piano solo to “In My Life,” gone drum ‘n bass.
“Mine and Yours,” David Mead
If the video I linked to is any indicator, this was a big hit with the Japanese karaoke crowd. Go figure.
“She’s Got My Number,” Semisonic
Where an otherwise straightforward pop band goes off the deep end into delicious, melancholy strangeness. One of my bigger interview thrills was getting to tell Dan Wilson how much I loved this song.
“My Name Is Love,” Rob Dickinson
Catherine Wheel singer turns down the distortion, ramps up the harmonies. Again, the word ‘skyscraper’ comes to mind.
“Can We Still Be Friends?,” Mandy Moore
Dan Wilson reference #2: he sings backing vocals on this shockingly good Todd Rundgren cover. People have scoffed at the notion of Ryan Adams marrying someone like Mandy. Not me.
“io (This Time Around),” Helen Stellar
Let it not be said that nothing good came from “Elizabethtown,” as it introduced me to this beautifully spacey song.
“Buildings and Mountains,” Republic Tigers
Truly a band out of time, which is exactly why I love them. I wonder if the reason A-ha is breaking up is because they heard this song and thought, “Damn, they do us better than we do.”
“The End of the World,” Gin Blossoms
Most bands that take 11 years between albums come back as a pale imitation of their former selves, but the Gin Blossoms’ 2006 album Major Lodge Victory was a damn fine little record. This one appeals to my not-so-inner Beatlemaniac.
“Fragile,” Kerli
This Estonian princess is an odd little bird, but that’s what I like about her. This ballad closes her debut album with quite the quiet storm.
“Road to Recovery,” Midnight Juggernauts
Another band whose lack of success has me scratching my head. It’s the best dance album Peter Murphy never made, or the best rock album Daft Punk never made, one of the two. Or both.
My sincere apologies to the following bands, who also deserve mention:
Divine Comedy, Noisettes, Pet Shop Boys, Doves, Rialto, Beck, White Stripes, Rufus Wainwright, Kenna, Mylo, Pete Yorn, Apples in Stereo, Hard-Fi, The Thorns, Rock Kills Kid, The Hours, Derek Webb, Glen Hansard, Aimee Mann, Kirsty MacColl, Gorillaz, Air, Charlotte Sometimes, Mika, Def Leppard, Coldplay, Chicane, Elastica, XTC, and about 50 others.
A problem, sadly, that tended to happen far too often this decade.
I’m not going to write some lengthy intro for this; if you’re reading our continuing coverage of the decade that was – and thank you very much if you are – then you know that despite music’s increased exposure thanks to the interwebs, it also became damn hard to either find a good band or vault them to the next level. Several of the bands in the list below actually had both good buzz and record company support behind them, and still failed. Such was the ’00s: as the Icehouse song goes, no promises.
Here are ten of my favorite albums that no one bought, or at least, didn’t buy enough of.
Sugarbomb: Bully (2001)
A small but devoted cult has built around this completely insane group of Ft. Worth power pop aficionados. Legend has it they dressed like women and kissed onstage while rocking the ever-loving shit out of their audience. This was their only major label release, and because of the sudden belt-tightening the nation suffered upon its release – it came out September 25, 2001, ow – the band was dropped shortly afterwards. Pity, because these guys could play. And they could sing better than they could play. And man, could they do a, um, killer Queen impression. Think Muse sounds a lot like Queen? Listen to “After All,” the closing track on Bully.
The main songwriters in the band, Les Farrington and Daniel Harville, seemed so distraught over the collapse of the band that they never really gave it another shot, at least in terms of playing to their strengths. Last I heard, Harville was slumming in some Shiny Toy Guns-type band that’s far beneath his abilities, whlie Farrington has pulled an Andy Sturmer – a fitting analogy, since Farrington’s a big fan of Sturmer and his band Jellyfish – keeping virtually no profile on the web. Again, pity. All concerned deserved better.
Midnight Juggernauts: Dystopia (2008)
Odds are, if a band signs to Astralwerks, I’m going to like them. but even I was unprepared for how totally fucking awesome the Midnight Juggernauts’ debut album Dystopia is. They’re an Australian trio that melds Daft Punk beats to late ’80s modern rock stylings, with perhaps a dash of Air-style ambience. And best of all, they’re an actual band, playing these songs on real guitars, keys and drums. Anyone who listens to Peter Murphy, David Bowie and Daft Punk should own this at once.
The Lolas: Silver Dollar Sunday (2001)
Poor Tim Boykin. He’s sickeningly talented, a guitar virtuoso and a wizard at stacking harmonies like a Jenga block, but his power pop band the Lolas never quite got off the ground. It could have been a matter of timing; the band sputtered to a halt shortly after MySpace took off, and according to the band’s MySpace page, they haven’t checked it since May 2006 – but even if he had kept waving the power pop flag, the odds of a band like the Lolas making the jump is unlikely, especially if they’re based in Birmingham. The Alabama Birmingham, not the UK Birmingham. For those who scoured NotLame’s release sheets in the early ’00s like a meth addict looking for another fix, though, the Lolas’ sophomore effort Silver Dollar Sunday was, pardon the pun, a hell of a score. They wiped the floor with Oasis on “Long Time,” and turned in the best Stone Roses impression ever on “Wild Blood.” If the YouTube vids are any indication, Boykin is now a long-haired guitar instructor in his hometown of Birmingham. I urge everyone within 200 miles of his house to sign up for lessons.
Delays: Faded Seaside Glamour (2004)
Their influences are apparent – The Hollies, Cocteau Twins, the La’s – but there isn’t a band alive quite like Delays. Their debut single “Nearer Than Heaven” is a flat-out skyscraper, and Greg Gilbert’s androngynous tenor/falsetto combo is as unique a voice as you’ll find in music today. This was one of those records that just made me dance around the house in a ‘hey it’s all going to work out’ kind of way. And in 2004, that was a stark contrast to the other dark, melancholy shit we were being subjected to. This album makes me glad to be alive. That’s as nice a compliment as one can pay, if you ask me.
Rialto: Night on Earth (2001)
They may have been late to the Brit Pop party (and extremely late at that, dropping their debut in 1998), but Rialto singer and chief songwriter Louis Eliot has a way with a tune – ask the people in South Korea, they loooooove Rialto – and in many ways the band improves upon their eponymous debut with Night on Earth. They had two drummers first time around, but are down to one drummer and the occasional machine on this one, and in the case of a melodramatic song like “London Crawling” it fits like a glove. “Idiot Twin” is one of the best songs Depeche Mode never wrote, and “Shatterproof” will make any fan of OMD’s “If You Leave” squeal with delight. Of course, I bought the import, convinced that it would never see the light of day in the States. Sure enough, two months later, Eagle Rock releases it, with bonus tracks to boot. So I bought it again, and gave the import to a friend.
Gene: Libertine (2001)
As much of a Britpop fan as I was during the mid-’90s – seriously, what the hell else was I going to listen to, Hootie and Alanis? – Gene never grabbed me the way I expected those endless Smiths comparisons to. I loved “Fighting Fit” from Drawn to the Deep End, but scarcely listened to anything else from that album. When their 2001 album Libertine came up for grabs during my tenure with PopMatters, I thought, ‘What the hell,’ and ended up thinking, ‘Hell, yes.’ More mature, more patient, and eager to explore different textures, Gene basically laid the groundwork between Coldplay’s Parachutes and A Rush of Blood to the Head. You’re welcome, Chris Martin.
Paul Melancon: Camera Obscura (2002)
When this album was released, I had daydreams about hooking up Atlanta pop genius Paul Melancon with Jon Brion. It made perfect sense to me; they both love classic pop melody, fractured fairy tales, and the Beatles. It’s a match made in heaven, and Brion will make him a star. Ah, but being signed to an Indigo Girl’s record label apparently only had so much pull, and the album didn’t quite jump into the general consciousness the way I hoped it would. Damn. Didn’t they hear his love letter to ELO mastermind Jeff Lynne, cryptically titled “Jeff Lynne”? Even better is the album’s final track “Fine,” which sports one of those great wordless choruses. Oh, and it ends with arson, like all love stories should.
Republic Tigers: Keep Color (2008)
The Republic Tigers are like the American version of the Feeling – they are simply not from their time. Listen to those melodies (the A-ha tribute “Buildings and Mountains”), the patience they take with the arrangements (“Golden Sand”). Ideally, someone will hear this album and think that that is how songs should be written. But after the whole Paul Melancon thing, I’m not holding out hope. For what it’s worth, guys, the people who grew up in the ’80s think you guys are peachy keen.
Kenna: New Sacred Cow (2003)
This was going to be included in our piece on the best albums you never heard, but we based the inclusion of the albums on which artists were willing to answer a few simple questions, and Kenna forwarded us to his publicist…who couldn’t be bothered to respond. Ironically, Kenna called me shortly before his second album came out, even though I told the label that we needed to reschedule the interview. As it turned out, the interview was never rescheduled, and to borrow a phrase from Led Zeppelin, it makes me wonder. Here’s me, an avowed fan of the man – one of the best concerts I ever attended was a Kenna show at Schuba’s in Chicago. The show started at 6:00, and drinks were on the house, woot! – and the label can’t coordinate an interview. I suppose it’s fitting, since labels just have no idea what to do with an artist like him. He’s black, but his music knows no color. You’d think that the fact that his high school buddies, who are now known as the Neptunes, produced the record would be enough. Not so. Oh well. I love this album, and this album also produced one of the most original videos of the year.
Swag: Catch-All (2001)
When we asked Swag singer Doug Powell about Catch All, his stint with one-shot super group Swag, he dismissed it as pedestrian pop, and seemed surprised that anyone would love it. I get where he’s coming from, since the album doesn’t exactly rewrite the rules of pop, but it sports some damn good tributes to the Zombies (“Please Don’t Tell”), Elvis Costello (“Eight”), and the Byrds (“Lone,” “Louise”). And what’s wrong with that? Not a damn thing, if you axe me.
Abraham Simpson once succinctly explained about how he used to be “with it,” but then they changed what “it” was. Suddenly what he was “with” wasn’t “it,” and what was “it” seemed weird and scary to him. He then pointed a bony finger at his son Homer and said, “It’ll happen to you.”
It happened to me this year.
The thing is, I’m okay with it. Pop is a young man’s game, and I just turned 40, so the vast majority of songs climbing the charts are not aimed at me. In fact, I feel sorry for anyone who feels compelled to remain hip and cool as they hit their late 30s. It’s hard work, and you will invariably find yourself on the other side of the fence from the hordes of people who think (insert indie band of the week here) are the saviors of rock and roll. Don’t fight it: embrace it. Circle of life, etc.
Having said that, I made a concerted effort this year to give a listen to the music that was being aimed at our impressionable youth and see if I could hear what they hear. After trolling through the muck that is Rocco’s ”Umma Do Me” and contemplating whether I wanted to live on the same planet with people who gave Rocco their hard-earned money, I found a few pop singers that I quite liked. The problem is that no one bought their records, which sums up my CD collection – and my favorite songs and albums from 2008 – better than anything: pop music that isn’t popular. Sigh.
Top 10 albums of 2008
1. Midnight Juggernauts: Dystopia
A little Goth rock, a little Daft Punk dance, a little Muse-ish paranoia, and a whole lot awesome.
2. Panic at the Disco: Pretty. Odd
The kids, apparently, were furious with Panic at the Disco’s decision to make a, ahem, more traditional pop album. To that I say: fuck the kids, Panic. I’ll take this over the needlessly wordy songs from your first album any day of the week and twice on Sunday.
3. Airborne Toxic Event: Airborne Toxic Event
I still haven’t read Pitchfork’s brutal 1.6-rated review of this album. Just knowing that they would do such a thing to an album so completely undeserving – their song “Sometime Around Midnight” is worthy of three or four points all by itself – is confirmation that I need not worry what their opinion is about anything, ever.
4. Attic Lights: Friday Night Lights
Odds are the debut album by this Scottish quintet will never see the light of day in the States. The reason? It’s filled with smart, sunny, harmony-laden pop songs that aren’t produced within an inch of their lives, which fell out of favor with Stateside radio programmers about ten years ago. Still, I’m willing to bet that more people are listening to this album ten years from now than anything Akon ever does.
5. Republic Tigers: Keep Color
Much like the Attic Lights, though the Tigers were lucky enough to get their fabulous debut album released on this side of the pond. Being American certainly had a lot to do with that, though it didn’t help them much with getting on the radio. I guess that spot on the “Gossip Girl” soundtrack will have to suffice.
6. Raphael Saadiq: The Way I See It
Again, showing my age here, but this is my idea of R&B. Saadiq’s slavish attention to detail results in the finest Smokey Robinson album in decades. Could have done without the drop-in by Jay-Z, though.
7. They Might Be Giants: Here Come the 123s
So maybe I am into music aimed at the kids, if the kids happen to be my two-year-old. They Might Be Giants’ follow-up to their wildly popular Here Come the ABCs is even better; “Seven” was produced by the Dust Brothers, for crying out loud, and the kids’ screams of “We want cake! Where’s our cake!” will stick in your head for days. The videos on the accompanying DVD are awesome as well. Anyone with a toddler should buy this, stat.
8. Joe Jackson: Rain
At long last, a proper follow-up to Ben Folds Five’s The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner.
9. Sunny Day Sets Fire: Summer Palace
Think New Pornographers, on a global scale.
10. Benji Hughes: A Love Extreme
Occasionally juvenile, yes, but hot damn, is Hughes hard to beat when he’s on his game. Look for Beck to cover half of the songs here before long.
“Never Miss a Beat,” Kaiser Chiefs
Instant classic, this one. All bands should be challenged to write a catchier melody using five notes or less, like the verse here.
“Chasing Pavements,” Adele
This song went Top 10 in eight countries. In the States, it peaked at #82. Jesus, people.
“You Don’t Know Me,” Ben Folds w/ Regina Spektor
The one truly brilliant moment on his most recent album, though once you’ve been married four times, you should by law lose the right to complain about how it’s your ex’s fault.
“I Will Possess Your Heart,” Death Cab for Cutie
Eight and a half minutes of delusional stalkerism disguised as bold determination. We’re used to the former from them, but not the latter. Bravo.
“Money, It’s Pure Evil,” Bigelf
I haven’t done a side-by-side comparison yet, but I’m pretty sure a chunk of the guitar solo here is taken note-for-note from “Comfortably Numb.”
“Cantaloupe,” Carlon
Hollies, Hollies, Hollies, get your vocals here.
“Join with Us,” The Feeling
For being a bunch of pop boys, they freaking bring it at the end. As of press date, their second album (this is the title track) has no US release date. D’oh.
“This Is Only,” Charlotte Sometimes ‘She’s Half My Age,’ Crush #1. I am positively smitten with this girl. Cute as a button, sassy lyricist and with one of the most unique voices in pop, I can’t believe a major actually signed her. And that’s part of the hypocrisy with the music press: had this been an indie release, and not as slickly produced, people would be lining up with Liz Phair-style rapture for the girl. Ugh.
“Fragile,” Kerli ‘She’s Half My Age,’ Crush #2. Here’s another one that would be better served positioning herself as a modern rock goddess than a Goth-tinged popster, and this song’s the proof. Oh, and don’t ever use the ‘G’ word in her presence, if you don’t want your eyes gouged out.
“Slave to the Rhythm,” Shirley Bassey
Dame Shirley Bassey covering Grace Jones, with Primal Scream’s “Loaded” serving as the drum track. Does it get any cooler than that?
“Girls,” Walter Meego
Daft Punk, crossed with David Cassidy.
“They Live,” Evil Nine
Daft Punk, crossed with zombies.
“Sensual Seduction“/”My Medicine,” Snoop Dogg
Pity Marvin Gaye isn’t still alive to cover the former. Pity Johnny Cash isn’t still alive to cover the latter.
Never let me down…again: Artists I love making albums I thought were just all right
Aimee Mann: @#%&*! Smilers
She may have hated making albums for the majors, but they sure were better when she did.
B-52’s: Funplex
Better than Good Stuff, but that’s not exactly saying much.
Gary Louris: Vagabonds
I still think he has one of the finest voices in music, but this record could have used a couple shifts in tempo.
Are all of the good band names truly gone? You’d certainly think so, judging from some of the releases we saw this year. Even good bands – including two bands in my Top 10 – gave themselves bad names. Here is a small list of the ones I found to be particularly bad.
Unicycle Loves You
Biography of Ferns
Does It Offend You, Yeah?
Airborne Toxic Event
Sunny Day Sets Fire
Uh Huh Her
The Sound of Animals Fighting
What Laura Says
The Number Twelve Looks Like You
Dancer vs. Politician
We Landed on the Moon
Phony of the Year
Katy Perry. “I Kissed a Girl” and “Ur So Gay” are such manufactured controversy that even Madonna blushed.