Songs that had me at “hello” (thank you, Cameron Crowe).
As my first Top 10, here’s a look back at the songs that stole my attention and changed how I thought about music (in the order in which they were released).
Brian Eno – Burning Airlines Give You So Much More
In the years between Roxy Music and his inception of the ambient genre, Brian Eno’s opener to Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy) sounds as fresh as the day he laid it to tape in 1974. Both the song and album are as distinct as anything Eno – or anyone who followed until recent years – has made and I only wish he explored this version of his pop-craft before moving on so quickly.
New Order – Ceremony
Originally recorded as a Joy Division song, this song marks the transition that the band went through after Ian Curtis died. A duet of guitars plays so strongly that they sing for new front man, Benard Sumner, when it seems he cannot. The guitar melodies are so clean they almost sound like synths and create a song that stands brightly and alone amongst the New Order catalog.
Kate Bush – Cloudbusting
It’s hard to crack the nut that is Kate Bush, but if you had to start somewhere, I suggest Cloudbusting. The song is relentless in how the strings roll over the incessant drums that makes up the basic structure. As a introduction, what is so compelling is the story that the song tells, how the lyrics catch your ear, and the deep vein of wikipedia link-clicking it causes the curious.
His Name Is Alive – Can’t Go Wrong Without You
The song is spooky. An eerie union of glass slide driven guitars and cello back-beat. It’s as cringe-worthy as the video by The Brothers Quay. Yet, there’s a whimsy that can be heard in lyrics: “Devil breaks both your hands / takes your stuff / and runs away.” Rumors are that the song is made entirely of samples from Prince‘s Purple Rain but I don’t believe it for a second (band-leader Warren Defever is known to tell tall tales).
Unrest – Isabel Bishop
I declare this song is the best pop song barely heard and it deserves its due. Followers of Unrest and founder of the TeenBeat label know about Mark Robinson‘s love for all things Cath Carroll. In this case he focuses on Isabel Bishop, her grandmother, an American artist for whom he sings a straightforward, sincere song full of hooks and sweetness, c’mon-c’mon’s and random numbers.
The Magnetic Fields – Smoke & Mirrors [Remix]
Stephen Merritt writes indie music for gay listeners that isn’t obscured in innuendo or redirection, and for once I can relate. The original is glorious in it’s own right, full of reverberating beats, synths, strings, and his dry baritone. An unexpected collaboration such as the remix Mark Robinson did for Merge Records is divine: a dense synthed-up version with a slick overlay of Evelyn Hurley‘s vox over Merritt’s own.
The Beta Band – It’s Not Too Beautiful
Perhaps not one of The Beta Band’s most recognized songs, it gives us the most epic mash of electronica (term used loosely to protect the innocent), soft Steve Mason vocals, guitars that if a drug would leave track marks, samples of Disney’s score to The Black Hole, and footsteps running in gravel. What makes this song a tour de force is that somehow it all fits together and with it allows some insight into the band’s genius/madness.
Animal Collective – Banshee Beat
“Someone in my dictionary’s up to no good / I never find the very special words I should” are the type of lyrics that represent Animal Collective. They sing about an everyday moment – such as a rumor that leads jealousy – in terms of how it feels, expressing it in visceral terms even if the subject may be cryptic. Even so, they leave the listener akimbo, in a state elevated from the normal, and fully immersed in the emotion of the act of listening.
The Books – Vogt Dig for Kloppervok
The Books are master technicians, assembling snippets from cassettes they found in thrift stores over a core of cello, guitar and electronics. They match a bird whistle to a perceived meaning of “it will rain” so perfectly you wouldn’t know it was constructed. The song’s layers are built from Lewis Carroll‘s Jabberwocky – both sung and strung together – and are mesmerizing: flowing in and out of consciousness so effortlessly it becomes, simply, art.
Parenthetical Girls – I Was the Dancer
We come full circle with the Parenthetical Girls, a name inspired from an Eno-Fripp song. I believe William Bowers coined the term “panic-pop” to describe band-lead Zac Pennington‘s music, and he nailed it. Pennington sings androgynously, as a woman whose dancer-body has been destroyed by child-birth and rearing. Bothersome at first, the song clings to you like the offspring in the song and won’t let go until you love it.
