The World is a Beautiful Place and I am No Longer Afraid to Die – “Faker”

I can’t shake the feeling that “Faker” was always meant to be political on some level. I understand that it was in all likelihood written about their ex-bandmate Nicole (is anyone actually dense enough to sing “I never dreamed that you wouldn’t keep your word” about a political figure?), but outside of a few obvious flags, this could easily be an indictment of current American leadership, as well as the sad state of affairs across the world in general. I mean, just read the opening set of lyrics:

Will you be faking it when the businesses fail, and your money is revealed for what it is?
Will you be faking it when it’s safer to joke, and the laughter’s seen on screens in silence?
Will you be faking it when we’re tied to the tracks, denying that there’s rope around our wrists?
Will you be faking it when they’re rounding us up, and your sources all assure it’s just a test?
Tell yourself again, “Nothing is wrong with this place.”

There’s a lot going on just in those five lines – devaluing of currency, ignorance, fascism, and denial. For me, that’s what gives “Faker” staying power as one of the decade’s most important barometers of the post-2016 political climate. There’s something about the twinkly emo instrumentals and calm vocal delivery that makes all these accounts feel frighteningly ordinary; as if these terrifying truths…

Queens of the Stone Age – “I Appear Missing”

Whenever someone tries to tell me that rock is dead, all I need to do is point them to …Like Clockwork, grin a big wide dumb smile, and say “well, the best rock album of all time came out in 2013.”  Even if it’s a dubious statement at best, it gets a rise out of the opposing arguer every single time.

The funny thing is that it’s not even that big of a stretch.  …Like Clockwork is an absolute classic, a songwriting masterclass in its own tier.  The stretch from “My God Is The Sun” to the closing title track (so, more than half the album) all belong on this list.  It’s downright insane that 6 of the best rock songs of my life all came in succession, on the same record.

Out of the embarrassment of riches on display with …Like Clockwork, “I Appear Missing” is the track that I’ve always viewed as the epicenter of greatness; a six minute towering rock piece that features a swelling chorus which grows in intensity with every repetition, surrounded by addictive riffs and a mind-blowing drum-fill/piano interchange a little less than halfway through.  The track reaches its undeniable zenith at the 4:20 mark, and continues right on through to the end with a complicated, wiry riff that’s joined in by an echoed, ghostly refrain of I never loved anything until I loved you.  It’s everything Queens of the Stone Age have ever…

mewithoutYou – “Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore”

Sometimes more is said through how something is expressed than the precise words being articulated.  I’d be lying if I said that I’ve cracked the hidden meaning behind every lyric of “Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore.”  Heron of the past with a baked clay! / Truth swans! kaleidoscopic highway!…??? Your guess is as good as mine, but I’ll be damned if Aaron doesn’t sound convincing as hell when he screams it at the top of his lungs, as if it were the most important message he’s ever conveyed.  But there’s a startlingly sad truth behind this song, and really all of [Untitled], that beckons you to have a little patience with this swirling vortex of distortion and mind-numbing screams.

Weiss’ struggles with depression and identity are well-documented, and this song represents his breaking point.  It’s something he slyly alludes to in the next song – the album’s closer, which really serves as more of an outro to “Michael” than anything substantial – when he sings, have I established a pattern, perhaps a bi-annual mental collapse? – followed by a forlorn someday I’ll find me.  It’s a moment of lucidity – his “coming down” – following this episode of absolute heightened panic, where he is far less eloquent.  On “Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore”, he sings to his bandmate and brother (not-so-coincidentally also named Michael) about feeling as though he is slowly losing his mind – like he’s sinking and can no longer…

Kanye West – “Runaway”

I’ll always remember the first time I really connected with Kanye West the person.  Sure, he’s an amazing artist, a creative visionary even.  But had I ever listened to a Kanye song that tapped into something deeply emotional?  Not even close.  “Runaway” changed that, as an epic hip-hop song that easily registers as one of the best things that not just Kanye – but the entire genre – has put out in the past decade.

Kanye brings out his 808’s vocoder-influenced voice for this one, and he spills his soul…whether it’s the self-deprecating line, “Yeah I always find something wrong / You been putting up with my shit just way too long / I’m so gifted at finding what I don’t like the most” or the more vulnerable “Never was much of a romantic, I could never take the intimacy / And I know I did damage, cause the look in your eyes is killing me…And I don’t know how I’ma manage, If one day you just up and leave.” It’s not so much that he’s hiding his arrogance and mistreatment of those whom he loves, it’s an admission of such – and a plea to bear with him while he tries to get his shit together.  Let’s have a toast for the douchebags…

Heartbreaking lyrics aside, the thing is monumental musically.  It skirts the line of rap/hip-hop, infusing the song with isolated piano notes, and the distorted vocals at the end sound like something…

Deftones – “Sextape”

Despite a gradual decline over the past ten years, Deftones began the decade with a bang.  Diamond Eyes is a gorgeous, flourishing heavy rock album – featuring a phenomenal blend of screaming and atmospheric nu-metal.  There are plenty of heavier songs that would also be deserving in this spot, but there’s simply no denying the lush, erotic undertones that course throughout “Sextape.”  The song flows gradually, tensing and building until it reaches its cathartic release. The lyrics, while simple, manage to be poetic and transparent at the same time: “Watch you wave your powers, tempt with hours of pleasure / Take me one more time, take me one more wave, take me for one last ride…I’m out of my head tonight / The sound of the waves collide…”

It could be Deftones’ greatest ballad, and that’s thanks in part to Chino’s unreal vocal performance.  He sounds like he’s gliding in and out of existence, coming in strong on the verses and then fading into those gorgeous refrains.  In fact it’s hard to think of another Deftones song that does so little instrumentally yet is so striking, mesmerizing, and addictive.  Sometimes a song just has an incredible core/melodic backbone, and doesn’t need a lot of bells and whistles.  This song embodies that essential quality.

I’d argue with anyone that Diamond Eyes is at least as good as White Pony, and songs like “Sextape” only help me prove my point.  It’s sprawling and dream-like, yet very tangible and…

Weyes Blood – “Everyday”

There’s an argument to be made against including songs from the final year of this decade.  It’s tough to evaluate just how much of an impact a new song will have long-term, whereas tracks from 2010 have had more than enough time to prove themselves worthy.  With that said, let’s do the math: assuming I reach my goal of 100 songs for this project, that averages out to 10 songs per year.  Now obviously I’m not structuring things that rigidly, but as I approach being 1/3 of the way done with only a single 2019 inclusion to-date (Copeland’s “Colorless”), I think there’s room for this instant-classic from Weyes Blood’s stunning new album Titanic Rising.

“Everyday” draws a lot of its influence from classic rock.  In its sugary melody I hear The Beach Boys, while there’s also a distinct flavor of Sgt Peppers-era Beatles in the way that the song conducts itself so ambitiously.  On an album that is markedly subdued and nuanced, “Everyday” is a moment of over-the-top indulgence.  It’s upbeat, uplifting, and sways from one confident rhythm to another.  With Natalie Mering singing stuff like “true love is making a comeback”, it feels like the kind of song that anyone could draw inspiration from.  And that’s kind of the whole idea behind “Everyday” – it’s a wide reaching, all-inclusive call for love.  Set to Mering’s smooth vocal performance and increasingly bombastic orchestration, it’s nigh impossible not to get swept away in the tide.…

The Republic of Wolves – “Bask”

I’m fully prepared to ward off the argument that this spot belongs to “Birdless Cage” – a more melodic, sweeping tune that seems to also be a fan favorite off of shrine.  My thinking is that The Republic of Wolves distinguish themselves from their other side projects (Tigers on Trains, Souveneer) with their intensity – the distorted riffs, the blood-curdling screams, etc.  “Birdless Cage” is an amazing song in its own right, but it always reminded me of a really good Tigers on Trains song, not necessarily something that fits the aesthetic of shrine, or The Republic of Wolves’ heavier mission statement.

“Bask”, on the other hand, is the total package. It commences with a gang-chant – a shouted ‘let’s get to work!’ that perhaps also doubles as the group’s mission statement coming off the slightly disappointing sophomore record No Matter How Narrow. Electric riffs immediately barge down the door, searing through the air and setting the tone for hellish screams of ‘I’m telling lies about myself, to myself’ ‘ – the likes of which we haven’t heard since 2010’s “Greek Fire.” A dense bridge comprised of echoed, overlapping vocals and electric feedback gives way to yet another wrinkle – a pristinely produced, resonating mantra of ‘where do all the lost minds go’, which features backing vocals from All Get Out’s Nathan Hussey. At the end of what can only be described as an insanely catchy hook, the band dives right back into…

Lorde – “Hard Feelings/Loveless”

When I think of perfect pop, I think of Lorde – and more particularly, Melodrama.  For me, this was the album where it all came together for her.  The trap beats and finger-snaps of Pure Heroine were accented by colorful strings, brought to life by pop-rock rhythms, and in my opinion, supported by far superior lyricism.  It’s art pop reaching its absolute zenith, experimenting with Lorde’s original sound and seeing it flourish, all while retaining the marketability of a top 10 Billboard artist.

Another thing I think of when I hear Melodrama – or see Lorde’s gorgeous blue-scale painting on the cover – is vulnerability.  The entire record is centered around the thoughts that go on in our heads while we’re busy nodding and smiling at others — those soul-crushing feelings of heartbreak and defeat which we hide behind cool and collected exteriors while magnifying each interaction with the overinflated bombast of a Hollywood moment.  There’s a number of cuts here that exhibit this sensation in spades, but I don’t think any do it quite as well as “Hard Feelings/Loveless” – a before & after narrative that carries you through the crumbling demise of a relationship that used to mean the world to its narrator.

Lines like, “Let’s give it a minute before we admit that we’re through” and “I remember the rush, when forever was us” immediately plunge you into the honeymoon phase, where everything feels like it matters.  As the song progresses you…

Astronauts – “Flame Exchange”

There are the songs of the decade that you know, and then there’s the ones you don’t.

“Flame Exchange” is the emotional centerpiece of Astronauts’ 2014 debut album Hollow Ponds, a somber and all-acoustic record about the depression and hallucinations suffered by Dan Carney as he lied in a hospital, bed-ridden due to a severely fractured leg while in a nearly delirious morphine-enhanced state of mind.  He fantasized about Epping Forest in northeast London, and transformed his visions to a record.

“Flame Exchange” sounds like the best acoustic ballad that Brand New never wrote, with the caveat that this is actually quite a bit better than any of Lacey’s stripped-down crooners.  The bleakness of the atmosphere can be cut with a knife; I’m still in awe every time over how Carney manages to squeeze so much despair out of such a bare composition.  The gently picked guitar strings ring out with a sad eloquence, and Carney’s half-whispered vocals are spine-tingling and emotionally proximal all at the same time.  Lines like, “feels like I’m about to capsize…need some solid ground under my feet” speak to emotionally unhinged state that he was in while recording this album – this sensation of lost control, and a desire to re-attain balance.  The swelling strings and woodwinds that intertwine and dance across the song’s back half add splashes of color to the song’s densely morose aura, and when the song wraps up there’s this feeling that Carney just bared his soul…

Brand New – “In The Water”

When I consider what my favorite song is from Science Fiction – the only album Brand New released in the past decade – it always comes down to the same five songs, and an argument could be made for each one equally as well.  For the longest time I thought it’d be “Lit Me Up”, the slow burning crooner that depicts religious extremism and eerily foreshadows the demise of Jesse’s career.  “137” is always in the conversation for its nuclear holocaust theme and a guitar solo that rivals any other in the group’s discography, save for perhaps the untouchable apex of “Limousine.”  “Can’t Get It Out” is the song from this album I listen to the most simply because it’s so damn infectious.  “Same Logic/Teeth” combines everything I love about Brand New into one song, from the gritty screams to the pristine acoustic picking that meshes with it surprisingly well.  The album is an embarrassment of riches, but I have to go with my first love – the band’s epic, sprawling swan song.

“In The Water” feels like The Moon & Antarctica meets The Dark Side of the Moon.  It basks in its glistening, crystalline guitar work that shimmers like the surface of a lake on a hot summer afternoon.  The guitar licks in the beginning of the track almost feel old-western; a country-ish vibe emanating from each elongated slide.  There are two equally as beautiful choruses, the first “never had it any…

Damien Rice – “It Takes A Lot To Know A Man”

“If Damien Rice told me that the reason it took him eight years to release a new album was because it took him six years to write ‘It Takes A Lot To Know A Man’, I’d probably be okay with it.” -Me, in my 2014 review of My Favourite Faded Fantasy

There are some songs that just naturally belong on a decade list.  They’re the kind of songs that you remember years later, even if you haven’t revisited the albums from whence they came nearly as often as you’d like.  They combine winding, epic progressions with the length to accommodate such a journey.  They reach new artistic levels, touching the soul while objectively mastering the style they target.  If I were to bottle these traits and provide an example of what it means to define a decade, I might propose Damien Rice’s “It Takes A Lot To Know A Man” – a track that feels like it probably took longer to conceive and create than some other artists’ entire albums.

I still feel that the above quote is true.  “It Takes A Lot To Know A Man” doesn’t feel like just another song that Rice composed as a part of an album.  Even to call it a centerpiece feels like cheapening its worth.  The song is so emotionally powerful and melodically sweeping that it feels like its own entity, this nine minute epic that shifts from…