#68 "Feel the Pain" by Dinosaur Jr

How can you not like the very beginning of this song? The cork coming out of the bottle... what a great way to start an album, which this does since "Feel the Pain" was the first track from 1994's "Without a Sound." Dinosaur Jr had gotten a lot of notice with their previous record... magazine covers, numerous articles, shout-outs from Kurt Cobain. Was mainstream success right around the corner? As it turned out, not so much.

One thing I really liked about J Mascis was his sound. The songs on Dinosaur Jr's previous album, "Where You Been?" simply sounded great. It was grungy, but still clean and clear. I don't know if it was the recording style that Mascis didn't like or all of the acclaim, but after that record everything else seemed to be a descent back into the sludge. When the original Dino lineup got back together for 2007's "Beyond," everything was so drenched in murk and distortion that you can barely make out the high-hat and other elements of the drums. I'm not saying this was a bad thing, but Mascis didn't do anything to embrace the success that seemed to be there for the taking. That's cool with me though. I can totally respect that.

A great thing you can always depend on in any J Mascis recording is the guitar. If I could play like anyone, it might be him. The solo at the end of this song is just fantastic. What's great about it are the dueling double-tracked guitars that make up the first half. They're just awesome... fast, melodic, heavy... definitely my favorite part of the song.

On a related note... I met J Mascis once. I was at the Black Cat, a little club in DC, for an Evan Dando concert. There was this band, Cobra Verde, opening for him. I was only half paying attention to them, since I was there to see Dando, but I kept noticing the guitar. I was in the back of the club and couldn't really make out who was up there making all the noise, but I kept thinking, "Whoever is playing that guitar up there is phenomenal." As the songs went on, I started working my way up towards the front. I kept listening, thinking "This guy kinda sounds like J Mascis." Sure enough, as I got all the way up to the front, semi-hidden behind some amps was Mascis himself. I was so psyched! What a bonus! When Cobra Verde's set ended, the guys in the band began cleaning up their gear. The crowd dispersed and I easily walked right up to J Mascis, told him what a big fan I was, and extended my hand. I got the ol' dead fish limp hand shake and a few mumblings out of him. I was pretty disappointed that he wasn't a more affable character, but still... it was pretty exciting.

#67 "Falling" by Ben Kweller

Ben Kweller is one of those guys that I discovered because of his connection to someone else I like. I was looking at Napster one day ( ahhh... the wild days of illegal downloading!) and checking out what they had to offer for Evan Dando. Napster always had all kinds of crazy bootlegs, b-sides, and live recordings. I ended seeing some live song by Dando with this guy Ben Kweller. I listened to the song and kind of liked it and thought, "Who's this Kweller guy?" I found out that he had just released his first album "Sha Sha," so I got that and... well, here he is on The 300.

"Sha Sha" is this quirky little album that's a little bit of everything. You've got your faster rock songs, your inventive pop songs, and your more fragile numbers too. Kweller plays everything on the album, and the songs are filled with lots of strange sounds beyond your average guitar, bass, drums kind of thing. You can hear piano, xylophone, triangles, bells... all kinds of noises that add unique touches to the tunes. Kweller wasn't even 21 when he recorded it, and the record has this unassuming charm about it. I really really liked the album when I first got it and told so many of my friends and students to check it out. I made a lot of Ben Kweller fans out of them.

"Falling" is the last song on "Sha Sha." It's a cool musing on the idea of falling in love. Kweller turns the word around and repeatedly sings "I don't feel like I'm falling" since it's such a great feeling. I love his unabashed sentiment too when he sings "wanna hold you like never before 'cause we're falling and I love you more and more." That's part of what's so likeable about Ben's songwriting. He's very honest, but not real fancy about it, but has some creatively simple looks at life. A line from another song I liked is "I'm maxed out like a credit card." Kind of stupid, but effectively makes the point too. So check out Ben Kweller. His third album, the self-titled one, is fantastic!

"Falling" is from the album "Sha Sha." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#66 "Fake Plastic Trees" by Radiohead

I'm not the guy who sh*ts himself at the mere mention of Radiohead. They're good. There's no question there. I see them more as artists than musicians now. They're just kind of on their own experimental plane.

I actually liked Radiohead a lot better when they were a little more straightforward. Their first two albums are much more instrument-oriented than most everything that came after. They were more of a guitar band then, as opposed to the computerized-effects driven sonic laboratory that they are now. "OK Computer" was when they started shifting... or as most of their ardent fans would say growing. That's probably their best album... the one that combines the basic band that they once were with the ambitious gods they would become. Some predicted that they would become the next U2?!? It doesn't seem like Radiohead want anything to do with that mantle. I don't think they've made anything very radio-friendly or embraceable in a long time, like those guys from Dublin have done again and again. Whereas U2 seem to push the physical boundaries of the size of the arenas they play in, Radiohead seems more about the musical and creative and philosophical boundaries that they can destroy.

"Fake Plastic Trees" is from the band's second album. It was supposedly written in response to the guys catching a Jeff Buckley concert. I'm not sure what the connection is, but I think it had something to do with the emotional depth that Buckley brought to his performances. "FPT" is a lament on the fake world we live in. Literally Thom Yorke sings about a guy who "used to do surgery on girls in the eighties." The song goes on to talk about trying to "be who you wanted"... about everyone changing themselves to fit someone else's ideal. Eventually, Yorke says, "it wears them out." It's a pretty sad tune, but a pretty one all the same.

"Fake Plastic Trees" is from the album "The Bends." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#65 "Everything To Everyone" by Everclear

Everclear blew up big time in the mid-90's. Their songs were all over the radio. Every time you turned on the tv, they were there too. As a matter of fact, they were so big near the end of the decade that when Washington, DC was planning its enormous Millenium New Year's Bash, Everclear was the headliner. For about six or seven years, they were one of the biggest bands out there. But I guess like the title of their album "Sparkle and Fade," they might've known that their success wouldn't last forever.

Everclear's second album was their big break-through. That's the one that had "Santa Monica" and "Heartspark Dollarsign" on it. I thought the first single was great. Like a lot of Everclear's early stuff, it had a legit rock-n-roll feel, some punk edge, and some pop-music sensibilities as well. A lot of the songs from their first two albums were pretty fast, dark, and intense. There were lots of songs about drugs, like "Heroin Girl" and "Chemical Smile," and a whole lot of others about the pain of divorce, bitter break-ups, and general failure. It's what gave Everclear's music weight beneath some of their more sing-a-long tunes. I've actually used lyrics from two of their tunes in my English class and maintain that Art Alexakis, bandleader and primary creative force, is one of the more effectively honest songwriters of his generation.

"Everything to Everyone" is from "So Much for the Afterglow." It's not one of Everclear's best songs, lyrically-speaking, but it's got this infectious groove and melody. I was hooked the very first time I heard it. It's a rather negative jab at the people who can't say no to anyone or anything and can't realize that "the hand you hold is the hand that holds you down." The beat of the song is so great though that honestly I don't pay much attention to the message. Sadly, however, the smooth craftsmanship that made this tune so radio-friendly and popular was also the thing that eventually spelled Everclear's demise. They went from being an edgy three-piece band named for grain alcohol who sang about drugs and darkness... whose first album was recorded for only $400... to an overdubbed, glossy disaster with layers of fake harmonies, too many instruments, and no more edge. I'd never wish bad times on anyone, but sometimes struggles really DO make for the best art.

"Everything to Everyone" is from the album "So Much for the Afterglow." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#64 "Everyday" by Buddy Holly

It's funny to look at pictures of Buddy Holly and think about how cool he was back in the day. I've always thought he looked like such a big nerd with the goofy glasses, skinny ties, cheeky grin, and oddball singing. But you know what? His songs were great and his sound was massively influential. For the longest time I never knew that The Beatles' name was inspired by the insect-themed moniker for Holly's band: The Crickets. Name aside, however, Buddy Holly had tons of great songs in his brief career that was sadly cut short by the famous plane crash of The American Pie.

"Everyday" is a just a sweet little pop-song. It's from the days when popular music seemed to be about happier notions. Now you turn on the radio and hear songs about killing people or getting jacked up with ominous beats behind them. I'd much rather hear something from Holly's time, when guys were mostly content with singing about love.

"Everyday" will always be in my mind for two movies that it plays in. The first is the wonderful "Stand By Me," the film that introduced a young River Phoenix to the world as he and three friends went off in search of a dead body in this Rob Reiner classic. Though I can't imagine there are a whole lot of people my age who haven't seen that one, it's a must-see... a truly fantastic movie.

The other film that features "Everyday" on the soundtrack is "Mischief." This is one of those goofy coming-of-age films, but it takes place in the 50's and has lots of great music throughout . It's about this dorky kid who's basically trying to get laid in his last year of high school. It was entertaining when I saw it as a young man, but the best part about it was a young Kelly Preston (John Travolta's wife in the real world). She was the unattainable hot babe in the movie, and MAN... she was smokin' hot. That movie, which we somehow had a copy of, provided me with endless hours of inspirational material. Ah... youth.

"Everyday" can be found on the compilation "Not Fade Away: The Complete Studio Recordings and More." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#63 "Everybody Lets Me Down" by J Mascis and the Fog

For my money, I say that J Mascis is the greatest working guitar player. I say "working" instead of "living" because I still think Jimmy Page's body of work from the 60's and 70's rivals anybody's, but the legendary Led Zeppelin guitarist really hasn't done anything significant in a long time. J Mascis, on the other hand, the long-haired heart of Dinosaur Jr, doesn't look like he'll be slowing down any time soon.

I first came upon J Mascis in the early 90's. I read about his band Dinosaur Jr. in Rolling Stone and thought on name alone that they sounded kind of cool. Coincidentally enough, when a good buddy of mine came home from college and we were talking about new music we were listening to, he pulled out this cd called "Where You Been?" The voice took a little while to get used to but the guitar work was undeniable. J Mascis had such a phenomenal sound. He could also shred like crazy behind all of that volume and feedback and in later years would release acoustic albums which showcased his ability in a quieter setting as well. I've been a fan ever since and if you ever get the chance to see a Dinosaur Jr or J solo show, it's a feast of deafening volume and make-you-sick virtuoso guitar-playing.

What kills me about J Mascis is that he started out as a drummer, but after struggling to find someone who could capture the sound on guitar that he was looking for, he just picked up the instrument himself. In only a few years he became a sort of God-father of alternative music... a grungier Neil Young so-to-speak. Kurt Cobain admired him so much that he begged Mascis to join Nirvana! I can only imagine how that collaboration might've sounded.

"Everybody Lets Me Down" is from J Mascis and The Fog's second album "Free So Free." The Fog is actually more of a fictional creation than anything else and Mascis handles most all of the instruments himself on the records. The first album, "More Light," is some of J's best work. "Free So Free" isn't as good, but it has some excellent songs on it. "Everybody Lets Me Down" is one of my favorites.

I don't know that anyone does longing and whining as good as J Mascis. Morrissey may have the self-loathing down and Robert Smith the despair, but Mascis' voice wonderfully captures that love-you-from-afar notion that goes with a lot of his lyrics. "Everybody Lets Me Down" is not one of those songs, but the idea that the whole world constantly disappoints you is perfectly suited for his voice.

My wife often tells me that my standards are too high. When I come home and tell her of a co-worker's adulterous behavior and how I have no interest in talking with that person anymore, she tells me that no one is perfect and that I shouldn't be so judgemental. When I tell her that I'm only trying to surround myself with people that I can respect, she goes on to say that everyone is flawed and that if I continue to constantly seek a higher plain, I'm going to find myself all alone. This is a pretty bad dilemna, but I can't help from hearing the chorus of this song when I think about all of the horrible people in the world... the selfish souls who carelessly hurt everyone around them because they thoughtlessly pursue things that they shouldn't. Every time I read of another Hollywood marriage ended by infidelity or some other junkie's overdose, there goes J Mascis again singing "Everybody lets me down." There are some other great lines in the last third of the song where he asks "How much hope am I allowed? How much is there left out there? Not much." It's so sad. Thankfully, the music around the tune kicks ass and J ends it with a scorching guitar solo. Otherwise I might get lost in the negativity.

"Everybody Lets Me Down" is from the album "Free So Free." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#62 "Everbody Knows This is Nowhere" by Neil Young

I first heard Neil Young when my brother brought home his 1979 concert video "Live Rust." Though his voice was a little different, songs like "Cinnamon Girl" and "Sugar Mountain" really caught my attention. Young's fragile delivery is hard to deny and though I might not rank him as high as someone like Bob Dylan, his massive body of work and the quality of some of his songs are amazing.

"Everybody Knows This is Nowhere" is from Young's second solo album of the same title. I actually didn't become that familiar with it until I heard it in Cameron Crowe's "Almost Famous" movie. A friend of mine mentioned how much he liked the song and the album it was from, so I ended up getting a copy of it from him. It's definitely one of Neil's best.

The lyrics to the song seem to be about the notion that the place you're from... the place that everyone seems to be dying to get out of... is kind of like "nowhere." You know the sentiment. When people are younger and think they're too big for their hometown, or that there's nothing to do there, etc. They're the "grass is always greener on the other side" kind of folks. I didn't exactly come from a small town, but I wasn't from the big city either. I did, however, always appreciate the charm of where I grew up and was in no rush to get out of there. I thought it was pathetic and sad that others were. Young's song is more from the perspective of the successful person looking down on their roots... the guy who's gotten too big to go backwards to the place where he came from. But when Neil sings of the desire to "get away from the day-to-day running around" that is a big part of the fame machine, he sings that he just wants to go back home where the "air is cool and breezy." For a song with a kind of negative title, it actually conveys a pretty postive sentiment.

"Everybody Knows This is Nowhere" is from the album of the same name. To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#61 "English Girls Approximately" by Ryan Adams

After the success of his big breakthrough record "Gold," Ryan Adams recorded a series of rejected follow-ups, only to have them culled together in the form of "Demolition." After that collection, Adams recorded "Love is Hell," only to have those songs called "too dark" by his record label, which forced him back into the studio which resulted in "Rock n Roll." I guess it's a good thing the guy is manic when it comes to song-writing! "Love is Hell" was eventually released, first as two separate ep's and then as a complete album. I don't know if it was as negative as Lost Highway Records claimed, but there's definitely a tone of sadness to the songs. What else would you expect from the guy who recorded an album called "The Suicide Handbook"? (Oh yeah... that one was rejected too!)

One of my favorites tunes from the second ep is "English Girls Approximately." It's a pretty simple song... just a few chords on the old acoustic guitar. 60's legend Marianne Faithfull lends some interesting backing vocals to the track as well. There's really not that much to it lyrically-speaking, but I do like a few of the lines. There's a great stacatto beat to a stanza near the end that goes "Tall drink of water, she's Nor-folk waterfall. Little daybreaker, she's a-shootin' like a cannonball. Crazy like a rocket when you're comin' through my radio. Kept me in your bed 'til the wintertime turns to fall." Again, there's really not that much to it. I can't really explain why I like it. I do enjoy the ending as well, when in that great Adams breathy gasp he repeats "just three words, my love... you meant everything." Were you expecting the other three words? I love you? Maybe I was too, but I get swept up in the vocal delivery and the music that echoes the sentiment.

"English Girls Approximately" is from the album "Love is Hell." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#60 "The Enemy" by The Dirty Pretty Things

When the Libertines' brief run came to an end, the respective leaders of the band separated and formed new groups. Pete Doherty, as I've documented here before, returned with Babyshambles and former bandmate Carl Barat countered with The Dirty Pretty Things. Their first release "Waterloo to Anywhere" was edgier than Doherty's new work, but most of Barat's contributions to The Libertines always seemed more punk than poetry.

"The Enemy" is just a great rockin' tune. I used to love listening to the DPT's when I was working out in preparation for a triathlon I did. They're fun, fast, and aggressive. What Pete Doherty took with him though were his lyrical abilities. "The Enemy" has lines like "Isn't it time you washed your face? It looks like a burned-out fireplace." Not exactly deep here. There was a line that stuck with me a lot when I was running though, and that's the chorus. "The enemy, as I know it, is right inside my head." I'm a big believer in the power of your mind... that the only limits you have are the ones you impose upon yourself. Why else can some people run marathons and others can barely walk up the street? Why do some people achieve greatness while others waste away in the depths of society. To some degree, you really can become anything you want to be. "The Enemy" is a great testament to that.

"The Enemy" is from the album "Waterloo to Anywhere." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the page.

#59 "Easy/Lucky/Free" by Bright Eyes

I was definitely a late comer to the whole Bright Eyes/Conor Oberst thing. Actually, I'd heard of him quite some time ago. A student loaned me the "Lifted..." album back in '02. I thought it had some cool songs on it but the warbly voice that Oberst used to affect so much in his earlier recordings kind of annoyed me. Too much forced depression for my tastes. I dismissed him for years afterwards but right before his "Cassadaga" album came out some kids pushed me into giving him another chance. Something I heard in the "Four Winds" ep caught my ear and the last three or four years have included a lot of Conor Oberst in my life. He really is a great songwriter and a fantastic performer.

"Easy/Lucky/Free" is from the Bright Eyes album "Digital Ash in a Digital Urn." It came out at the same as the much-acclaimed "I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning" record, but was not held in nearly the same high regard. Something about it's electronic experimentalism turned off a lot of Oberst's neo-folky fans and most people will tell you it's Bright Eyes' worst record. I have to disagree. It's an especially good album to listen to on headphones. There's a lot of cool layering to the sounds you hear. "Gold-Mine Gutted" does some interesting stuff with the percussion noises, and a lot of the songs are little sonic experiments. I think you can hear the good Bright Eyes songwriting at the core of them all, but some people get lost in the distortion I guess.

"Easy/Lucky/Free"... I don't know what the hell it's about. Oberst was recently called Songwriter of the Year... and maybe even of his generation by Rolling Stone. I don't about that. He definitely uses a lot of metaphors, alliteration, and other literary devices but the meaning of the lyrics is often lost on me. Some of them seem more like a study in wordplay, ala Wilco, or more of an emotional presentation than a literal one. "Easy/Lucky/Free" has some interesting imagery in it with lines like "refrigerators full of blood" and "Listening for patterns in the sound of an endless static sea." Later he says "We'll lay in bags as dead as leaves... all together for eternity." I don't really know what any of it means, but Oberst's word choice is great. I'd gather it's something kind of apocalyptic, but regardless... it sounds pretty cool, pretty heartfelt in his singing, and pretty intelligent too. There's definitely a hell of a lot more going on there than in anything you'll hear by the Kings of Leon!

"Easy/Lucky/Free" is from the album "Digital Ash in a Digital Urn." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the page.

#58 "Downliner" by Jesse Malin

One day I was walking through the cd aisles in Border Books. I don't know if I was looking for something, but I happened to glance at the albums that were being promo'ed in the listening stations. Something about one of them caught my eye. In the description, it said something about being "produced by Ryan Adams." As I've already established on this list, I'm a big fan of Adams. What I later came to find out was that Adams was a fan of Jesse Malin's. I listened to the cd, called "The Fine Art of Self-Destruction," and heard something in it that piqued my curiosity. I've been fan of Malin's ever since.

One thing that really caught my ear upon that first listen was the way the songs sounded. The production was really good. As I read through the liner notes, I found out that Ryan Adams not only produced the record, he also played a lot of electric guitar on it which is impressively displayed in songs like "Queen of the Underworld" and "Almost Grown" in addition to the song profiled here, "Downliner." Melissa Auf der Mar is also featured on the album, and her backing vocals are fantastic. Aside from the all-star supporting cast though, "The Fine Art of Self-Destruction" is also a great introduction to Jesse Malin.

Malin's voice is unique. It's kind of this bruised tough-guy sound most of the time. I think that's part of his appeal. At one point he looks and sounds like some street-punk, but then he turns around and reveals a heavy heart beneath the leather jacket and spiked hair. Most of the songs on "TFAOSD" are hymns to Malin's native Brooklyn. They're tales from a boy in the neighborhood and their blue collar appeal even caught the ear of Bruce Springsteen, who sang a duet on Malin's recent "Glitter in the Gutter" album.

"Downliner" has a lot of cool lyrics and great Ryan Adams electric guitar. I love some of the lines like "Lots of baggage and not much clothes." Paul Westerberg would've been proud of that one. My favorite line comes near the end when Malin sings, "You and me... you know we don't talk much. It's hard to handle something you can't touch." That's a great play on words and Malin's sad delivery makes it all the more emotional.

"Downliner" is from the album "The Fine Art of Self Destruction." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#57 "Double-Talkin' Jive" by Guns N Roses

When Guns N Roses first came out, they were one of the most dangerous bands I'd ever heard. They looked like guys you'd only meet on the seedy side of town. They had names like Slash, Axl, Izzy, and Duff. They came across as people who were doing some heavy shit and would probably end up dead before you listened to their entire record. I had never come across anything in mainstream music that sounded like "Appetite for Destruction." Simulated sex moans. Tossed off lines like "Why don't you just... FUCK OFF!" An inner sleeve design that showed a girl getting raped by some kind of robot. I didn't know who these guys were but I knew they were cool. They blew all the hair-metal posers completely off the map.

When I first started teaching, one of my musical claims-to-fame was the fact that I saw GNR back in the day as an opening band. They had an opening slot on an Aerosmith tour just after "Welcome to the Jungle" had blown up on MTV. Honestly, they were terrible. Axl sounded awful and the band just kind of looked out of it. It didn't matter to my students though. Only seeing an early Nirvana show could've topped that one.

Unfortunately for Guns, they became everything they weren't when they started. They went from Jack Daniels, cocaine, hookers, and blues to spandex shorts, back-up singers, piano ballads, and gigantic bloated stage shows. I'm not saying that songs like "November Rain" weren't good. I actually love "Use Your Illusion II," but these guys weren't scary anymore. The whole thing had become a little too polished. Not surprisingly, it didn't last for long after that.

Though GNR was doing a number of things that I thought were going to cause them to implode, the first real sign of the end was when Izzy Stradlin left the band. Izzy was Keith Richards ressurected. He wasn't the hairy, sweaty, top-hatted fury that Slash was. He was the cool, constantly-smoking rhythm guitarist and backing vocalist. To the casual observer, he may have seemed like just a supporting player, but it ended up that Izzy Stradlin brought a lot more to GNR than anyone realized. He co-wrote a lot of their great songs, had a dirty guitar sound that wonderfully played off of Slash's leads, and his voice was an excellent compliment to Axl's screechy howls. As soon as I heard that he left the band I thought, "These guys are done."

"Double-Talkin' Jive" is one of Izzy's several solo-esque contributions to the "Use Your Illusion" records. It sounds like the more dangerous GNR tunes from when they first began. It chronicles the street life of a drug dealer who's "got to go collect" after he's been "livin' on the run" for too long. I love the chorus of "Double-talkin' jive, get the money mother-f*cker 'cause I got no more patience." It's right in your face, and certainly not the kind of thing you'd hear other radio-friendly artists singing about. I guess that's why "Don't Cry" and "November Rain" ended up as the first singles from UYI. What's also great about this song is the cool acoustic ending. It's this Mexican-bandito part that you'd expect to hear at the closing of a Sergio Leone movie or something. I love it, and that's the other thing that was great about GNR. They were so diverse, though they rarely get enough credit for it.

"Double-Talkin' Jive" is from the album "Use Your Illusion I." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the page.

#56 "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen

Queen was awesome. Period. For all their campy over-the-top flamboyance, mostly courtesy of frontman Freddie Mercury, Queen were phenomenal musicians, brilliant songwriters, and unbelievably entertaining performers. What's not to like?

My mom LOVED Queen. She was a huge fan of "Bohemian Rhapsody" back in the day, long before every suburban kid knew it courtesy of "Wayne's World." She was so impressed by their harmonies and used to talk about how cool "A Night at the Opera" was. Mom didn't know anything about all of the overdubbing that Queen was doing, but she knew a good song when she heard it. Their greatest hits collection got some serious airtime in her old Datsun. Whether we were driving to swim practice or hitting the road to the beach, that tape was always playing. We knew all the words to "Fat-Bottomed Girls," "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" (one of her favorites) and of course "We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions." Queen definitely knew a thing or two about writing sing-a-long arena anthems, but if you ever go deeper into their catalogue you'll find a variety of songs there.

Queen was definitely one of those bands where I thought, "If their Greatest Hits are this good, there MUST be some other quality songs on all of those other records." I was right. Queen's individual albums are fantastic and full of excellent contributions from all of the band members. If you only listen the variety of repackaged Queen hits, you'll never hear all of the great Brian May and Roger Taylor songs.

"Don't Stop Me Now" IS actually on some of the Greatest Hits collections you can get, but it wasn't on the first one that came out in the early 80's, so I never heard it until I got the album "Jazz." It personifies everything that's good about Queen. You get Freddie Mercury all over the place... on his piano to open the song and then the incredible range of his voice throughout. Who else could sing totally gay lines like "I'm a sex machine ready to reload. Like an atom bomb, I'm going to whoah Whoah WHOAH EXPLODE! I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah, 200 degrees... that's why they call me Mr. Farenheit!" You also get the fantastic Queen melodies, which are evident in most all of their work. You even get a little Brian May guitar, only played during the solo. It's campy. It's fun. Like I said before, what's not to like?

"Don't Stop Me Now" is from the album "Jazz." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the page.

#55 "Don't Mean Nothin'" by Pete Yorn

Pete Yorn is the first musician I ever listened to simply because he looked cool. I'll discuss that more later when I talk about a selection from his first album, but sometimes you really can judge a book by its cover.

Yorn's career has kind of been all-over-the-place. His excellent debut, "Musicforthemorningafter," helped Yorn to be tabbed "the best thing out of New Jersey since Bruce Springsteen." It's a great album and I played the hell out of it when I first got it. His second album, however, was a bit of a let-down. The vocal versatillity Yorn showed on his first record was replaced by a bunch of songs that all kind of sounded the same. But then on his third release, "Nightcrawler," his work was almost too diverse and it just didn't leave me with a consistent flow despite having some really great individual songs. My interest in Pete was waning a little bit, but then came the fabulous "Westerns" EP in 2006.

"Westerns" is a collection of mostly acoustic tunes from Yorn. They're rootsy and organic and the only complaint I could make about "Westerns" is that I wish it was longer. It is without a doubt some of Yorn's best work, even in such a small space. Two of the songs have some great backing vocals by The Dixie Chicks' Natalie Maines. One of them is the song I've included here.

"Don't Mean Nothin'" sounds like a lover's lament. The lyrics discuss a relationship that seems to have gone sour. Being married, honestly, I can relate. No, my marriage hasn't gone south, but it's always a challenge to keep it fresh... so that it means "somethin'" to my wife and I. I like the lines "Sometimes you feel it. Other times you're bored. You understood me once, but now you're lost." I'd gather that a lot of long-term commited partners can identify with this notion. The chorus always really moves me too. Something about the line "Try and you'll remember what you used to be" really gets to me. It's that idea of remembering who you were when you got together... remember WHY you got together and what it was that you wanted back then. What happened to that person? What have we become and is it the people we wanted to be? Yorn's tune ends on a sad note when he tells his lover "If you don't recognize it, then you never will" and then finishes the song with "Oh Baby don't you see I'm never coming home... and it don't mean nothin'." It's certainly more bitter than I want the story of my own marriage to go, but I appreciate the honest perspective that Pete Yorn brings to the complexities of relationships.

"Don't Mean Nothin'" is from the EP "Westerns." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#54 "Don't Look Back Into the Sun" by The Libertines

"Don't Look Back Into the Sun" is one of the many great singles The Libertines released in their short career. Like many bands did back in the old days, The Libertines put out a number of non-album tracks and b-sides. Though the two full-length albums they did were really good, their legacy is also strengthened by some stellar singles.

Like most of The Libertines best songs, "Don't Look Back Into the Sun" is anchored by the interplay between band leaders Carl Barat and Pete Doherty. Pete tends to be melodic and wild, always bringing a sense of the unpredictable. Carl is the heavier of the two and brings a lot of punk rock to the mix. They were a wonderful pairing and made a lot of great music together. There are always rumors circulating about them teaming up again... for a new album, a broadway musical, etc. Until they actually do, you'll just have to settle for those oldies-but-goodies.

"Don't Look Back Into the Sun" can be found on the compilation "A Time For Heroes." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#53 "Don't Look Back in Anger" by Oasis

You know... I was never on the Oasis bandwagon. When they blew up in the 1990's, I just never really got it. Maybe it was the UNBELIEVABLY arrogant posturing of singer Liam Gallagher. Maybe it was the obsession with The Beatles. (Is Oasis excited to be positioned right next to the Fab Four on this list?). Maybe it was the whiny British thing... the ever-battling brothers... who knows? But to this day, whenever I see two of their albums regularly appearing on "Best Albums of All Time" lists all over town, I kind of scratch my head.

I'm not saying that Oasis wasn't talented. I thought Liam had a great voice... a little nasally and smug sounding, but pretty damn good too. I thought they had some good tunes (be sure to pronounce this "choons" like a real Brit) as well. I guess just overall I thought they weren't breaking any new ground though. They were just a pretty good rock band... nothing more.

"Don't Look Back In Anger" is unique in the Oasis catalogue in that it's sung by Noel Gallagher, Liam's brother and chief songwriter for the band. Noel may not have as dynamic a voice as his little brother, but for my money he's pretty good. I actually saw an Oasis concert where Liam was sick and Noel led the whole show. He was great and made me wonder why, after all the stories of him fighting with his brother, didn't he just do Oasis by himself. His voice in "Don't Look Back..." has a solid range throughout. From the mellower parts in "So I start a revolution from my bed" to the rising finale of "Cause you ain't ever gonna burn my heart out," Noel shows a lot of vocal ability. It's really great in the end and quite a song to hear live.

"Don't Look Back in Anger" is from the album "(What's the Story) Morning Glory." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the page.

#52 "Don't Let Me Down" by The Beatles

Though all of the songs on this list are ones that I enjoy, there are certain sequences of tunes that I think are particularly good. The "Can't's" with "Can't Hardly Wait," "You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory," and "Can't Stand Me Now" form a nice trio. The "Don't's," though, might be the best sequence of songs here.

As I've said before, The Beatles were part of the soundtrack of my youth. I know all of their albums and have heard their catalogue probably more than any other artist's. I've strayed away from questions like "What's your favorite" this or that for some time now, mostly because it's hard to boil things down to a single choice. I can, however, definitely say that without a doubt "Don't Let Me Down" is one of my two favorite Beatles' songs. You'll have to keep following the blog to see the other one.

A lot of people don't like the Beatles' final release "Let It Be." Shoot... The Beatles don't even like it! John Lennon said it was crap. It's their final release, but actually their second-to-last recording. Most everyone in the Beatles' camp thought LIB was sub-par material. They reconvened with George Martin, who said "I'll come back to you, but let's record something the right way." They ended up with the masterpiece "Abbey Road." "Let It Be" is probably looked at more as Paul McCartney's failed attempt to record simpler, more basic rock and roll tracks like the Beatles did in their early days, before George Martin's string arrangements and the Fab Four's preoccupation with multi-tracking, tape-looping, and other sonic experiments became their signature. The album is considered more of an afterthought, but I really like it.

"Let It Be" has a great stripped-down style. It almost sounds like demos compared to the Beatles other work, but that's what I like about it. It's the same reason I really enjoy looking at artists' sketches and early renderings of their final work. It's makes them appear more human. When you strip everything away, what can you really do? How talented are you? Everybody knows that John, Paul, George, and Ringo were supremely adept at song-writing and recording, but how good were they as players? "Let It Be" shows you.

"Don't Let Me Down" was a single released at the time of LIB. The Beatles were from the old days when albums were one thing and singles another. I prefer to listen to them in eras as opposed to albums, so "Don't Let Me Down" is a single recorded at the same time as songs like "The Long and Winding Road," "Get Back," and the famous title track. For one reason or another, it was just put out as a separate cut. The songs from this time are also notable for the fact that Billy Preston plays on several of them, and his keyboards on "Don't Let Me Down" are a great and vital part of the tune. Another thing to listen for are Paul's wonderful bass lines. When the Beatles' catalogue was recently remastered and reissued, one great treat is how much more clearly you can hear the bass. Songwriting and singing aside, Sir Paul was one heck of a bass player. Pulling it all together in the end is the vocal performance of John Lennon. His pain-wracked plea sounds raw and powerful. I've always thought that John had great versatility in his voice, from the whispery loveliness of "Julia" to the screaming angst in "Revolution." "Don't Let Me Down" showcases the latter in the choruses, which are my favorite parts to listen to.

"Don't Let Me Down" is on the singles compilation "Past Masters Vol 1 and 2." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the page.

***Blogger's note: All Beatles' songs on this site are NOT the newly released remastered versions. To hear those high quality numbers, you're going to have to shell out the money and buy the cd's.

#51 "Do You Realize?" by The Flaming Lips

The Flaming Lips are kind of like the Salvador Dali of modern music. They're just completely out there, totally unique, and just doing their own bizarre form of art regardless of what anyone expects from them. They're occasionally brilliant, often too strange to embrace, but always entertaining.

Dali has the best titles for his paintings. There's 1954's "Dali Nude, In Contemplation Before the Five Regular Bodies Metamorphized into Corpuscles, in Which Suddenly Appears the Leda of Leonardo Chromosomatized by the Vision of Gala" or how about "Dali at the Age of Six, When He Thought He Was a Girl, Lifting the Skin of the Water to See a Dog Sleeping in the Shade of the Sea." And there's always my favorite "The Young Virgin Auto-Sodomized by the Horns of Her Own Chastity." The Lips have song titles like "Psychiatric Exploration of the Fetus with Needles" and "I'm a Fly on a Sunbeam, Following the Funeral Procession of a Stranger." It's a toss-up as to who's more weird... or maybe who's taking more acid!

What I like about The Flaming Lips is that they're always pretty interesting and rarely predictable. Despite their wacky approach to music, they write some really intelligent lyrics. On an album called "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots," you also get the beautiful and brilliant "Do You Realize?"

"Do You Realize?" is a great philosophical song, where singer Wayne Coyne pensively contemplates truths about life. He asks us...

"Do you realize that happiness makes you cry?" Smiles generate tears. Who ever gives this idea any thought?

"Do you realize the sun doesn't go down? It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning 'round." I love this one... kind of saying that the world you think you know is actually not that way at all.

He also repeats the poignant, "Do you realize that everyone you know one day will die?" One thing I've not read very often about Wayne Coyne is the power of his voice. I wouldn't say he has a lot of vocal quality... at least not in the conventional sense, but he's able to communicate fragile ideas in a very effective way. When he asks us if we realize that we're going to lose all of the people we love, his voice is soft... almost cracking... as if HE is actually realizing this for the first time... realizing that life is short and that we have to "work hard to make the good things last," because in reality, they actually don't last at all. It's a really deep and beautiful song, not the typical thing you'd hear on the radio but I don't think The Flaming Lips have ever aimed for typical.

"Do You Realize" is from the album "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#50 "Disposable Heroes" by Metallica

I'll willing to say that Metallica's "Master of Puppets" is the greatest heavy metal album of all time. It really has everything. It's heavy as hell, but also melodic. The lyrics and themes are intelligent, but there's also some intense aggression blowing out of the speakers. The performances and the production are fantastic. "Master of Puppets" is one phenomenal record.

Though it's almost cliche to say, I think it's true that Metallica's older stuff is way better than the work they've released in the last decade or so. In the years when they adamantly boycotted MTV and any sense of commercialism, they built a huge following with their authenticity. At some point, they seemed to knowingly reach for that brass ring and embraced a more mainstream sound. You could hear Metallica on the radio!?! You could see them performing on the Grammies!?! You heard "Enter Sandman" over the PA at football games!?! You could see them doing a show with a full Michael Kamen-led orchestra behind them?!? You even saw them win an MTV Icon Award!?! This was quite a change from a band whose first release was called "Kill 'Em All." And though Metallica has to be credited with bringing speed metal to the masses, the product they're marketing these days is just nothing like what they used to do.

"Disposable Heroes" has always been one of my favorite songs from "Master of Puppets." It begins with what sounds like their instruments mimicing the sound of a huge military battery. The thudding guitar and bass heavy artillery. The cymbal-crash explosions. It slows down for a second to just guitar and drums and then explodes again into the first verse. It's super-intense. The lyrics explore the idea of the young men-turned-robots who populate our military forces.... how they're "made of clay... now an empty shell. Bred to kill, not to care." We hear of the boy who was, without his realization, "molded day by day" but left to die with his only friend... his gun. It's a pretty scathing look at what happens to the young men who enlist in the armed forces in search of glory, sometimes forced to carry on some bloody family tradition. I can't imagine that this tune blasts out at any Marine barracks, though it seems to accurately capture what's happening there. Maybe it's what they should play at the recruiter's office before the next Johnny-Get-Your-Gun signs his identity away.

"Disposable Heroes" is from the album "Master of Puppets." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#49 "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap" by AC/DC

When I was a kid and we were listening to Linda Ronstadt, The Eagles, Billy Joel, and the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, bands like AC/DC scared me.

The 70's were the time when the whole "those guys worship the devil" notion really became popular. Or maybe it was well-known before that. Robert Johnson had sold his soul at the crossroads in the early 1900's, but it seemed like I was hearing this idea an awful lot in my youth. Led Zeppelin. Black Sabbath. Ozzy Osbourne. They all worshiped the devil!

Though I didn't grow up in the Bible Belt, I had a pretty white-bread childhood. I lived in the suburbs of Northern Virginia. My dad was a successful urban developer. My mom stayed home with the kids. We were on the swim team in the summers, played soccer in the spring and fall, and went to church on Sundays. My parents rarely drank, and I certainly knew nothing of sex or drugs or anything controversial for that matter. So when we had a few wild teenagers blasting bands like AC/DC in the neighborhood, it was kind of shocking.

I can remember going into the records stores of the day. Yes, there used to be places that simply sold music! They're just a dream now, but you used to be able to go in and sift through the big 33' albums all neatly stacked in rows. Some of the cover art was so cool back then, like what you saw when you picked up anything by Rush, Yes, or Asia. But if you weren't careful, you might run into some darker, scarier stuff. Ozzy's "Blizzard of Oz" was simply creepy. "Bark at the Moon" was even worse. Iron Maiden's "Killers"?!? Is that axe dripping blood? Is that some kind of human sacrifice on Zeppelin's "Houses of the Holy"? AC/DC has an album called "Highway to Hell"?!? Does the one guy have a hat with devil horns on it? Oh my God! People BUY this stuff? I thought "AC" stood for "Anti-Christ" and that "DC" must've meant "Death of Christ." I was totally creeped out. And the cover for "Dirty Deeds"? Why are those peoples' eyes blacked out? What does THAT mean? I bet if we played this backwards we'd hear the voice of Satan!!!

Of course now that I'm older, I realize that all of this is nonsense. Sure, Tipper Gore and the PMRC continued to preach this gospel well into the 80's, but all it did was sell more records and give a bunch of people quite a laugh. AC/DC was just a great rock band. If they were guilty of anything, it was being Australian!

"Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap" cracks me up. It's a song about killing people! Bon Scott, the deliciously howling original frontman of the group, sings to all of those folks who hate their bosses, their teachers, their spouses, etc and need to have them knocked off. "You got a lady and you want her gone," he asks. "For a fee," he goes on to advertise such possibilities as "Concrete shoes, Cyanide, TNT, Neckties, Contracts, and TNT." It's great tongue-in-cheek dark humor and Scott's delivery is flawless. He was the ideal man to offer such services, and his vocals sound just dastardly enough to make it all believable.

"Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap" is from the album of the same name. To hear the song, click on the icon in the widgest jukebox along the side of the blog.

#48 "Dink's Song" by Jeff Buckley

Though there have been scores of musicians who have died sadly young, the greatest of those losses might have been Jeff Buckley. He was an immensely talented artist whose two albums barely scratched the surface of what it seemed he was capable of. His first release, "Grace," is considered by many to be a masterpiece and "Sketches for my Sweetheart the Drunk," his left-unfinished follow-up, hinted at the many other directions this unique performer could have taken had he lived longer. His music showed Jeff's interests in everything from rock to blues to jazz to metal and even hindu. Listening to Jeff Buckley's music is a rewarding yet frustrating experience. As amazingly good as it often gets, there just isn't going to be any more of it.

Jeff Buckley honed his chops in little clubs around NYC. His favorite was a little Irish cafe in the East Village called Sin-e. It was there that Buckley said he learned how to be a performer, playing mostly cover songs before small crowds. As you can hear from "Dink's Song," the energy of these shows was incredible and before he knew it, record executives were showing up to sign him to a major label. Jeff's two formal releases show off some polished studio production, but the recorded shows from Sin-e really show his versatility as a singer, guitar-player, and interpreter of other peoples' work. The two disc Legacy Edition, released by Sony in 2003, is a feast for the ears.

"Dink's Song" is a traditional ballad first recorded by folk musicologist Alan Lomax in the early 1900's. Dink was a black lady in a negro camp off the shores of the Brazos River in Texas who was well-known for her singing prowess. Lomax coaxed this tune out of her one day, and recorded the lament of a woman whose man is no where to be found. The song was passed down through the years and even recorded by a young Bob Dylan for his debut album. I'd gather that Buckley, who was a big Dylan fan, first heard "Dink's Song" on the famed "Minnesota Hotel Tapes," a bootleg of early Dylan recordings.

Buckley's version of "Dink's Song" clocks in at just over eleven minutes. It starts out slowly and builds to an awesome and intense climax. Jeff's voice and playing keep getting louder and louder. Around the four minute mark you can hear things speeding up. When you're about eight minutes into it, when he sings "When a woman gets in trouble..." it's at an exhilarating pace. The song ends with Buckley screaming "Fare thee well" and wailing over the rhythm of the guitar. It's literally exhausting and you can hardly turn away from the performance. It must have been thrilling to see.

"Dink's Song" is from the album "Live at Sin-e: The Legacy Edition." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

# 47 "Dear Chicago" by Ryan Adams

Being a Ryan Adams fan is usually pretty rewarding. The guy is easily one of the most prolific recording artists around. A few years back, he put out three releases in a span of seven months, and one of those was a double album. He was writing and recording so much that he started putting stuff out on his website via a series of pseudonyms. There was death metal, rap, rock, and honky-tonk from pen-names like DJ Reggie, The Shit, WereWolph, Sad Dracula, and The Ghetto Birds. I'm not saying that it was all high quality stuff, but I wasn't waiting around for five years in between releases like you do with other acts. And whether he's obsessively Twittering, filming and releasing bizarro videos, writing books of poetry, or releasing legitimate cd's, Ryan Adams consistently produces.

A friend of mine says that if Adams released only half of what he was doing, the overall content would be a lot better. "He needs to learn a bit more about self-editing," he told me. He might be right. That double album, 2005's "Cold Roses," would've been a PHENOMENAL single record. But as it was, I still thought it was RA's best release to date. So if you get into Ryan Adams at any time in your life, it can be a series of high and lows. When he hits the mark, though, Adams is an incredible performer.

"Dear Chicago" is one of those near perfect Ryan Adams releases. It's from the album "Demolition," which was essentially a collection compiled from about four or five full-album follow-up attempts to his breakthrough disc "Gold." As usual, Adams wrote and recorded a boatload of songs... enough for five albums, but the record label wasn't sold on any of it and as opposed to release them all decided to put together the best songs from the individual records. What you end up with is a look at the different sides to RA's musical choices. There's some pop-rock on it, some slower ballads, some country-flavored songs, and some straight-up rock and roll. I like it because you get to see the various sides to his work. Others criticize the album for lacking cohesion. Buy the cd. Make the call.

"Dear Chicago" showcases Ryan Adams' phenomenal voice and heartfelt songwriting. It's essentially a break-up letter to a loved one. The lyrics are pretty sad. He sings about being alone, feeling "happy and sad and back again" and that he thinks about his lover all the time but that it's "strange and hard to do." Lines about "nothing breathes here in the cold... nothing moves or even smiles" are followed by "I've been thinking some of suicide." There's a tangible sense of depression and isolation in every lyric delivered powerfully by Adams' vocal performance. And in the end, when he confesses the brutal "I think I've fallen out of love with you," his breathy gasp just kills me. Imagine saying that to someone! It's a powerful crescendo to a great song.

"Dear Chicago" is from the album "Demolition." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#46 "Dark Eyes" by Bob Dylan

I don't know that "Dark Eyes" would qualify as one of my favorite Bob Dylan songs or not. When thinking about which selections I would choose from Dylan's immense catalog, there are so many incarnations of him to consider. But no matter what I thought about, I kept coming back to "Dark Eyes."

The 1980's were cruel to many artists. The musical trends and styles of the early part of that decade were just plain bad. Sometimes I think John Lennon is lucky to have died. We never had to hear what might have been his inevitable descent into synthesizers. A few people made it out alright, but they were the acts who pretty much started and stopped within those years. For a lot of musicians whose careers started in the 60's or 70's, however, the 80's proved to be difficult to navigate.

Look at this picture of Bob Dylan. Yes, that's him alright, clad in a sleeveless shirt, leather pants, and... this is hard to say... fingerless gloves. The hair is frizzed out. You can't even make out the dangling earring he was sporting at the time, but that was there too. If you didn't look too closely, you might've thought this was Kip Winger or one of the guys from Whitesnake. But no, that's Bob Dylan, the voice of his generation, a writer so revered that there's a considerable push to award him the Nobel Prize. And there he is, lost in the wasteland of the 1980's.

In 1985 Dylan released "Empire Burlesque." Most fans and critics agree that it's one of Bob's worst albums... a failed attempt at appealing to the mainstream pop masses at the time. It's over-produced and smothered in back-up singers, electronic drums, and keyboards galore. I actually don't think it's that bad and maintain there are good songs under all of that production. Watch Dylan's quirky film "Masked and Anonymous" to see proof of this when "I'll Remember You" was performed by Dylan and a wholly different group of side-men. But for the most part, Empire Burlesque is a bit of a letdown from the guy who gave us "The Times They Are-A-Changin'," "Blonde on Blonde" and "Blood on the Tracks." Most people probably don't even listen to it all the way through... and THAT's why I picked "Dark Eyes."

After all the synthesizers and drum loops were put away, suddenly Dylan showed up with his trusty acoustic guitar and harmonica and recorded "Dark Eyes" alone for the last track on the album. It's almost astonishing to hear it in context with the rest of the record. It would be like following "Pour Some Sugar On Me" with "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." That's why I like it so much. It's a typical Bob Dylan shot out of left field.

The lyrics to the song are pretty interesting too. Dylan's been called a poet for a reason and the words to "Dark Eyes" definitely show that. It seems to discuss being surrounded by good and happy things, but only seeing negativity. Dylan says he lives in another world, "where the earth is strung with lovers' pearls, but all I see are dark eyes." There are other curious lines where he sings about feeling nothing for those for whom "beauty goes unrecognized." Is this a comment on the over-commercialization and materialization of the 1980's? It seems so. I've always found the ending to the song to be especially powerful too. The last line is "A million faces at my feet, but all I see are dark eyes." Is this the ever-elusive Dylan singing about himself, a god in some people's eyes, and the people that all bow down to him? If so, it's just another reason why I never want to be famous. The life you're left with seems pretty hollow and I'd gather that Bob Dylan can attest to that.

"Dark Eyes" is from the album "Empire Burlesque." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#45 "Dancing Queen" by ABBA

Yes, that's right. ABBA. I went from Led Zeppelin to ABBA. I went from the punk rock cool of The Clash and The Replacements to the disco cheese of "Dancing Queen." Street cred? Goodbye. Proof of heterosexuality? Suspect. Sorry, folks. I've got to be honest. I love ABBA.

Maybe it's because I was a child of the 70's, when disco was king... when we used to watch Solid Gold on tv and maybe even a little Soul Train too. It was the time when the Carpenters' slick sounds ruled the airwaves and Michael Jackson was "Off the Wall," not simply out of his mind. It was when Olivia Newton John went from "Grease" to "Xanadu" and was still pretty damned cool. I can't help it. It's part of my DNA.

"Dancing Queen" is one of those perfect little pop-songs. The production is glossy and radio-friendly. The performances of the female leads, Anni-Frid Lyngstad and Agnetha Faltskog, are sublime. The music and melodies, written by the geniuses behind ABBA Benny Andersson and Bjorn Ulvaeus, are brilliant. BRILLIANT! What's not to like? How can you NOT dance when you hear this? It's fantastic.

This mix of 300 songs is usually what I listen to on my Ipod when I go running. If I'm ever lucky enough to come across "Dancing Queen" while hoofin' it around the neighborhood streets, it's hard not to wave my hands and point when "You can dance! You can ji-ive!" comes on. I'm a runnin', lip-singin' fool at that point. And you know what? I'm pretty ok with that.

"Dancing Queen" originally appeared on the album "Arrival" but can also be found on the compilation "ABBA Gold." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#44 "D'yer Mak'er" by Led Zeppelin

Led Zeppelin will always represent a sort of growing up period for me. They were the first band that I really got into independent of my brother's influence. Through him I liked and listened to a lot of things, but as we got older and I started to be around other people, I started to develop other interests than the ones we had grown up pursuing, and probably started to become more of my own guy.

I still remember the first time I really heard Zeppelin. Sure, everyone knows "Stairway to Heaven" and "Rock n Roll" and all of the other radio staples, but I had never experienced anything beyond those popular songs. One day, on my way to swim practice with a friend, he pulls out this tape and says, "You want to really hear something?" He put in Zep's first album and this song came on that was loud and heavy and fast. It sounded like metal almost, not like classic dinosaur rock. It was the time when Guns-n-Roses and Metallica and hair-bands were beginning to make a name for themselves, and yet this song that was twenty years old was harder than anything those guys were doing. I just remember thinking, "Whoah... that's cool!" The song was "Communication Breakdown" and even when I hear it today I still think of that first time.

Of course Led Zeppelin would be on this list, but where do I start? How can I limit them to just a few selections? It was a tough call, but there was no doubt that I would include "D'yer Mak'er." It's from their middle years and is Zeppelin's take on reggae. When I read their biography Hammer of the Gods for an 11th grade book report, I remember reading about how Jimmy Page teased John Bonham that as good as a drummer as he was, he didn't have the stuff to play reggae beats. This song was borne from that. The title, which I've heard some people say is a phonetic representation of a British accent saying "Jamaica," is, according to the book, actually a slur on "Did ya make her?" which means "Did you bang her?" The whole song, with Robert Plant's moaning and groaning, is one big sex romp. It's a great tune and different from any other in Led Zeppelin's catalogue. Bonham's drums are PHENOMENAL in it. Super-heavy thuds on the bass drum and snare. I've tried playing the opening many times and can almost do it, but I'd need a 400 pound leg to get anywhere close to the power of JB's bass pedal. It's some great stuff.

On a related note, in 1995 a Led Zeppelin tribute album called "Encomium" was released with reinterpretations of their songs by everyone from Hootie and the Blowfish to Blind Melon, Stone Temple Pilots, and Duran Duran. Sheryl Crow did a version of "D'yer Mak'er" that's great. Her "oh oh oh oh Oh Oh"'s are breathy and dirty and sexy as hell. If you're lonely and looking for some good inspirational material, look no further!

"D'yer Mak'er" is from the album "Houses of the Holy." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#43 "Cursed Female" by Porno for Pyros

It almost seems vulgar to follow up a song as beautiful as "Crazy Love" with a band whose name is Porno for Pyros, but hey... it's an alphabetical list. It's out of my hands, people.

Yes, this is another post having to do with Perry Farrell. After the break-up of Jane's Addiction, JA members Farrell and drummer Stephen Perkins formed a new band. While PfP had some good songs on the two albums they released, their work was so similar to Jane's that it left me wondering why they ever broke up!?! PfP kind of came off as a cheap imitation of Jane's, but in the end they still produced some decent work.

"Cursed Female" has a great ominous tone to it. Whenever I hear it, it reminds me of a Saturday night cruising the streets looking for something to do... but usually when your little drive leads to mischief and trouble. It's from those rides when your windows are down and you're leaning on your elbow, head half-cocked to the left as your eyes scan the neighborhoods. The lyrics are more about the sad plight of being a girl. "Cursed to be born beautiful, poor, and female," Farrell sings. "There's none who suffer more." The song goes on to talk about two girls hanging out in alleyways who, after no one shows, "zipped up their clothes and walked back towards home." I guess he's saying that in the poorer parts of the world, girls are forced into selling their bodies and compromising their integrity just to get by. For a guy who wrote about the sacred beauty of women in the leaflet of his last release, Farrell's view here is still respectful, but ultimately quite sad.

"Cursed Female" is from the album "Porno for Pyros." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#42 "Crazy Love" by Van Morrison

I'm willing to say that Van Morrison's "Crazy Love" might be one of the prettiest songs I've ever heard. The lyrics are sweet and touching, and Van's performance is equally tender and beautiful. It's simply a gorgeous song.

"Crazy Love" makes me wish I had a daughter. I'm sure it was probably originally written as a romantic ode to a lover, but whenever I hear it I think of the love a father must feel for his little girl. It reminds me of how I felt about my first son right after he was born. He gave me so much joy. I just couldn't wait to get home every day. I've told people that the birth of my children taught me that there is a real physical organ inside of you that no one ever tells you about. It's called love, and it's as tangible when you're experiencing it as anything you could possibly touch. The love you have for a partner is very powerful, but I don't think my wife would feel slighted if I said that it's nothing compared to the love you feel for your child. It's something everyone should experience one day.

Some of my favorite lines are...

"I can hear her heart beat from a thousand miles,
and the heavens open every time she smiles."

"And when I'm returning from so far away
She gives me some sweet lovin' to brighten up my day.
Yes it makes me righteous... makes me feel whole...
Yes it makes me mellow down into my soul."

If you give in to that love for your kids, you can really feel this way. Their innocence and happiness make everything else fall away. It's so incredible.

So if you're looking for a song to play for your daughter's wedding or to be the soundtrack to some slideshow on her life, look no further. You won't find a better one than this.

OH! And on a related note... I once got a massage in a really fancy hotel outside of Washington, DC. The first President Bush used to hold conferences there. It's pretty high end. Anyhow, when I was in the spa I asked the masseuse if she'd ever worked on anyone famous. Sure enough, she said "Right here on this same table you're on, Van Morrison himself laid for a massage from these very same hands." Pretty cool.

"Crazy Love" is from the album "Moondance." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the page.

#41 "Crazy" by Patsy Cline

Patsy Cline's "Crazy" is one of those cool old songs that usually finds its way onto one movie sountrack or another. The lazy piano... the great brushed drums... it all makes for some good background music playing on a jukebox in some country bar or in some scene in a hot and steamy living room in the deep south.

Here are three things I can relate to this song:

1) Patsy Cline was born in Winchester, Virginia which is about 45 minutes from where I live. She's a local girl!

2) "Crazy" was actually written by a young Willie Nelson!

3) "Sweet Dreams" was the 1985 bio-movie made about Patsy Cline's life. It starred Jessica Lange as the country legend. I used to have a MAJOR crush on Jessica Lange back in the day. Remember her debut in King Kong? HELLO! And how about her risque scenes in "The Postman Always Rings Twice"? I tell ya... she gave me some naughty fantasies for a long time.

"Crazy" can be found on any number of Patsy Cline compilations like "20th Century Masters" or "The Definitive Collection." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the page

#40 "Corduroy" by Pearl Jam

By the time Pearl Jam's "Vitalogy" came out, they were a few years removed from the world-wide explosion that accompanied their first two releases. They were beginning to get mired in their political statements. Their opposition to MTV, the Grammys, and Ticketmaster began to overshadow everything else about them. They were still explosive both on record and in concert, but they seemed to be moving in a different direction. This inward journey, similar to the one that instant fame thrust upon and ultimatley killed Kurt Cobain, also sent Pearl Jam into themselves. They seem to have endured those years in the wilderness with their integrity intact, but I remember that it wasn't too long after "Vitalogy" that Pearl Jam kind of disappeared.

"Corduroy" is lyrically masked in metaphors and other intricate word play. I'm not going to begin to interpret what the lines "I don't want to take what you can give. I would rather starve than eat your bread" actually mean. I've heard that some believe that this song is a response to Kurt Cobain's suicide from a few months earlier... that when Eddie Vedder sings "I don't want to be held in your debt" it's a reference to not wanting to inherit the Grunge Crown that Nirvana was forced to part with after being basically destroyed by it. I don't really know. I just enjoy the emotion that Vedder's angst and howl bring to nearly every performance. The melody is great too. When I first heard the song, I actually thought it was Pearl Jam's most sing-along-able tune to date. Sometimes, you can't really put your finger on why something is great. You just listen to it and enjoy.

"Corduroy" is from the album "Vitalogy." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox on the side of the blog.

#39 "Color Me Impressed" by The Replacements

"Color Me Impressed" is vintage old Replacements. It's from the original line-up, when the unpredictable Bob Stinson was still in the band. It's also from the Mats' indie days, before they scored a major label contract, mellowed-out, then imploded. And though I like just about everything that Paul Westerberg does, "Color Me Impressed" is PW at his edgy best.

As I said in an earlier post, there are two Paul Westerbergs. There's the sad romantic, ever in touch with the broken hearts and failures of his youth, and the venomous smart ass... the guy who's been flashing his middle finger at the world since he was a kid. "Color Me Impressed" is from the latter. It sounds like a scorching FU to the popular kids. Westerberg says "Everybody at your party... they all look depressed" and then comments that they're "dressin' funny" too as he mocks their trendy fashion choices.

I've always thought this would be a great song to perform at a party. Most of the musicians I knew in high school were always kind of on the outside looking in. They were cool in their own way, but certainly not conventionally popular like the pretty boys and girls who rack up all of the phony accolades and superlatives. I can just see those guys playing this song. The football players would be rockin' out, but because they're too shallow to pay attention to the words they'd have no idea they were being mocked. And the kids who are really in the know... the ones who read... the ones whose heydays last beyond the age of 17... they'll be in the corner having a laugh. They know exactly what this tune is about.

"Color Me Impressed" is from the album "Hootenanny." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#38 "Classico" by Tenacious D

First off, I love "The D." If you don't like Jack Black, stop reading.

Comedy is an interesting thing. What makes some people laugh won't even crack a smile on others. I've never seen a Will Ferrell movie that I liked. I don't care for Adam Sandler's work too much either. "South Park" cracks me up though and I think "The Simpsons" is probably the most brilliant satire of American life ever produced. And while I loved "Beavis and Butthead" back in the day, I also enjoy Jerry Seinfeld's witty observational humor and Bill Cosby's hysterical story-telling. You just can't put your finger on what will make you laugh, but Tenacious D kills me.

Tenacious D's songs usually chronicle/parody all the great rock cliches. They write about worshiping Satan, doing lots of drugs, banging all the hot chicks, and rocking their socks off! It's all pretty stupid, but JB and KG's faux seriousness and mock intensity make for quite the listening experience. Their first album is RIDICULOUS! And though their follow-up, the soundtrack to their bio-film "The Pick of Destiny" is not nearly as good, there are more than enough moments to make you laugh... if you're cool, that is. "Classico" is their version of Johann Sebastian Bach's "Bourree in E Minor," because if you're going to really rock, you've got to have the classical chops!

"Classico" is from the album "The Pick of Destiny." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.

#37 "Classic Girl" by Jane's Addiction

Jane's Addiction is one of the more original bands to come out of the early alternative scene of the late 80's. They were an odd hybrid of rock, glam, and metal with a dose of middle-eastern mysticism added at the end. A lot of people always cite Nirvana of the great band of that era, but JA pre-dated them by a good bit and you can hear their influence on a lot of acts that came later. Sadly, Jane's original run was short and only produced two original albums, but it was great while it lasted.

"Classic Girl" is the closer on the original band's last release. It's an assorted album of hard rockers, radio-friendly fun like "Been Caught Stealin," and some Kashmir-esque epics on the second side. But as crazy and heavy and loud as Jane's Addiction could be, Perry Farrell has a real sensitive and thoughtful side too. The album came with a little booklet where Farrell spoke about the dangers of artistic censorship because his first choice for an album cover, which consisted of some nude sculptures, was rejected by record sellers and replaced with a plain white sleeve. He also wrote about the oppression of blacks and women. It was pretty deep stuff and I've never forgotten his words about females and their inherent beauty and suffering. "Classic Girl," which is just a sweet little love song, always makes me think of that side of JA.

There are some lines at the end that I really like. Farrell sings, "They may say 'those were the days,' but for us these are the days." I love that. So many of us look nostalgically back at the past, but this guy is smart enough to know that the present is pretty damned good too. And then he follows that up with "... and you know you're my girl... such a classic girl." I just find that to be so complimentary. A classic girl is a great enduring individual, not some new-fangled trendy bimbo. That's my kind of lady.

Oh... I almost forgot! Be sure to listen to the VERY end of the song. When it seems almost over and the music has faded out, if you wait just a few seconds you'll hear this sweet little "Good night." A nice finish.

"Classic Girl" is from the album "Ritual de lo Habitual." To hear the song, click on the icon in the widget jukebox along the side of the blog.