My friend Fred Schwarz responded to my list of favorite Replacements songs last week with his own list (the email subject line was Lets Go Mats). Since Fred is a funny guy, and since I always enjoy it when my friends deflate my pretentions (and if you re-read my list and then read Fred’s comments, you’ll be able to spot a few examples), I’m putting his list up this week. That, and it saves me having to do one. So from here out, all the words are Fred’s.
TOP 10 REPLACEMENTS SONGS (in the order I wrote them down after going through the albums one by one)
“I Will Dare”
An inspirational song and a source of courage to achieve great things. I mostly use it to steel myself for ordeals like calling a customer-service number.
“Favorite Thing”
Like most Replacements songs, this one turns to mush if you look at the lyrics too closely. So just listen—and chime in on the chorus!
“16 Blue”
These lyrics actually make sense. In fact, they’re the best compact description I’ve ever come across of what it’s like to be a teenager.
“Answering Machine”
Majestic and indestructible. I still stop whatever I’m doing and stand at attention for this. A friend of mine went to a Replacements concert and heard P.W. do an acoustic version, which he still considers a crime against nature.
“Hold My Life”
I don’t know, I just like this one. I often wish I could give my life to somebody to hold for a while.
“Here Comes a Regular”
Another rare case of Replacements lyrics making sense. That’s much more common on their slow songs, which explains why Westy got all morose and weepy after he “matured.”
“Skyway”
Sue me, Steve, I like this. In the context of a Replacements album, it’s like a change-up after several fastballs in a row. On Westerberg’s solo albums the songs are all change-ups, so the effect is lost.
“Dope Smokin Moron” (or “Takin a Ride”—your choice)
A reminder that the Replacements were punks once.
“Customer”
Ditto. Who hasn’t had an experience like this? This song reminds me of Jonathan Richman’s “The New Teller.” There—is that reference obscure enough to qualify me for a Rock Critic’s License? Or at least a learner’s permit—I’ll admit I’m not ready yet to use “crux” and “angst” in the same sentence.
“I Bought a Headache”
Also ditto.
