I used to have a thing about my musical tastes. I so desperately wanted them to be cool, or at the very least be something that only a handful of people were privy to. (I was tempted to say 'hip' instead of 'privy,' but you can't spell 'hipster' without 'hip,' and God knows I'm not hip enough to be a hipster.) My friend Kathi, she has obscenely cool taste in music. I'm surprised she's friends with me, since I surely bring her cool factor down by a good 20 points.
Then a couple of years ago, I realized - ? A great song is a great song, and it doesn't really matter how popular - or unpopular - it is. I can't tell you how freeing that was, and I have a very well-known blogger to thank for it. When she admitted to me in private how much she enjoyed a band at Lollapalooza, only to dismiss them a few days later in her column, I realized that it was completely pointless to pander to hipster elitism. You're being dishonest with yourself, and the hipsters are only going to turn on you in the end, anyway.
So I turned a blind eye to what was a pop song versus what was a "pop" song, as it were, and realizing that there was no distinction between the two made everything soooooo much easier. So here we are in 2009, and as part of our , I have to try to apply this whole revisionist history viewpoint to the entire decade, which is no mean feat, to say the least. It therefore makes sense that assembling one big-ass list of songs will look like the work of someone with multiple personalities, so instead they are cut up into bite-sized lists for easier consumption, with YouTube links for the uninitiated.
"Take Me Out" was the bigger hit, but this song swings like Austin Powers in the jungle. Nice riff on "My Sharona" in the break, too.
Push the button; shake that booty.
What the world needs now, is more hey la, hey la's.
Suck it, Pitchfork. These guys are good. You're just too far up your own asses to admit it.
The only sad thing about this song is that Joey Ramone didn't live long enough to hear it.
I love the way these guys riff on Duran Duran lyrics, and then act as if they made it all up themselves. As the old adage says, talent borrows, but genius steals. And for the record, we don't care for sand, either.
Best drunken barroom chorus since "Tubthumping."
For all the progress that was made this decade in terms of hip hop and black culture becoming more accepted on pop radio, it appears that the gays still have a long road ahead of them. Pity.
They their set at Lollapalooza with this. The only other band to grab me by the throat like that with their opening song is, well, My #1...
September 11, 2006, Columbus, Ohio. Muse opens their set with this song, blows the roof off the place.
Proof that even the most alt of alt rockers love Kylie: The Flaming Lips covered this song.
They did a great job recreating the Elton John sound. Too bad they didn't have Bernie Taupin write the lyrics. Fried chicken? Ugh.
I watched this song take one of those sports bars that has basketball courts and bowling alleys, and turn every one of its patrons into dancing fools.
Dogged by some for its similarity to U2, but when was the last time U2 wrote something this bouncy?
I'll shut up, Katie, but there's no way I'm letting you go.
It took two Grammy wins for this song to finally crack the Top 40. (*shakes head in disbelief*)
Andre 3000 finally picks up a guitar to write a song, and this, THIS, is the first thing that comes out. Mother, fucker.
When my mom comes home from a trip to see my brother on the east coast and tells me about a song she heard by a band whose name is similar to some celebrity or other, I know that said celebrity knockoff band has struck a chord.
"You crazy for this one, Rick!" Actually, Jay-Z, you have it the other way around. You crazy if you make this song with anyone than Rick Rubin.
It was at least a year before I made the effort to find out what the hubub was about this damn "Umbrella" song. And then I heard it. Holy shit, this song pisses genius.
No guy wants to hear his ex tell the world what a lousy lover he is, but is there a man alive that doesn't want a shot at Lily Allen?
My favorite new musical expression of the decade: skyscraper, used to describe a song with soaring melodies. And this puppy's the Empire State Building.
That this album didn't even see the light of day in the States shows just how myopic our views of pop music have become.
Come on, bang that head in the chorus. You know you want to.
B-b-b-baby, this song is c-c-c-crazy catchy.
Another song I thought had a shot at cracking the US charts. Funky verses, slammin' choruses, what's not to love? Robbie Williams, apparently. He never gained the traction here that other UK singers did. Strange.
Of course, you probably have heard most of these songs, but I didn't have another category to place them in, so they're going here instead.
Easily the band's best song since "Ordinary World" and "Come Undone." Anyone who likes but has since given up on the band, go listen to this at once.
Los Angeles' resident mad genius of pop finally gets his 1997 album released in early 2001. Power pop fans proceed to lose their minds. And can you blame them? Listen to that drum track. It's like the piano solo to "In My Life," gone drum 'n bass.
If the video I linked to is any indicator, this was a big hit with the Japanese karaoke crowd. Go figure.
Where an otherwise straightforward pop band goes off the deep end into delicious, melancholy strangeness. One of my bigger interview thrills was getting to tell Dan Wilson how much I loved this song.
Catherine Wheel singer turns down the distortion, ramps up the harmonies. Again, the word 'skyscraper' comes to mind.
Dan Wilson reference #2: he sings backing vocals on this shockingly good Todd Rundgren cover. People have scoffed at the notion of Ryan Adams marrying someone like Mandy. Not me.
Let it not be said that nothing good came from "Elizabethtown," as it introduced me to this beautifully spacey song.
Truly a band out of time, which is exactly why I love them. I wonder if the reason A-ha is breaking up is because they heard this song and thought, "Damn, they do us better than we do."
Most bands that take 11 years between albums come back as a pale imitation of their former selves, but the Gin Blossoms' 2006 album was a damn fine little record. This one appeals to my not-so-inner Beatlemaniac.
This Estonian princess is an odd little bird, but that's what I like about her. This ballad closes her debut album with quite the quiet storm.
Another band whose lack of success has me scratching my head. It's the best dance album Peter Murphy never made, or the best rock album Daft Punk never made, one of the two. Or both.
Divine Comedy, Noisettes, Pet Shop Boys, Doves, Rialto, Beck, White Stripes, Rufus Wainwright, Kenna, Mylo, Pete Yorn, Apples in Stereo, Hard-Fi, The Thorns, Rock Kills Kid, The Hours, Derek Webb, Glen Hansard, Aimee Mann, Kirsty MacColl, Gorillaz, Air, Charlotte Sometimes, Mika, Def Leppard, Coldplay, Chicane, Elastica, XTC, and about 50 others.