Rankstravaganza 2013: My 30 Favorite Songs of the Year
10. “Down Down the Deep River,” Okkervil River
Will Sheff, who has returned to Northeast—Brooklyn, specifically—after years in Texas, says this is one of his favorite songs that he’s ever written. And he’s written some doozies. This one, however, clearly has deep, personal significance to him. It is the centerpiece of a concept album about growing up in Meriden, N.H., population 500, in the 1980s. While Sheff is loath to say too much about the specific meanings of his songs, and he insists that “Down Down the Deep River” is not strictly autobiographical, it is clearly about having your first childhood experience with the death of someone close to you. “And it’s not all right. It’s not even close to all right,” Sheff sings repeatedly. He is currently working on a short film based on the song.
9. “S.O.S. in Bel Air,” Phoenix
If the French band couldn’t quite recapture the lightning that was “1901” and “Lisztomania,” it at least sounded like it wasn’t trying too hard to top itself. Instead it simply, confidently released another well-crafted three minutes of dance-rock, albeit with a slightly scuzzier sound than the nice, clean tones that characterized its previous work.
8. “Born to Die,” King Khan and the Shrines
Roughly 10 years ago, while I was working as a small-town entertainment reporter in Michigan, the local guy with connections in the world of underground garage-punk told me that I ought to stop by one of the downtown bars on Tuesday night. There was a duo named The King Khan & BBQ Show that would be stopping in town to play a set in between two big-city gigs on its tour. Compared to the raw, rockin’ set I saw last night, this song practically sounds like Phil Spector. The opening track to Arish Ahmad Khan’s latest album is still raw and rockin’—just with string and horn sections added to the mix.
7. “Hearts and Minds,” Son Volt
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Between the double fiddle and Jay Farrar’s voice—which is seasoned as ever but, thanks to the slow march of time, not quite so beyond-his-years anymore—this is basically crack for Americana fans. [even more words]
[free mp3 available in exchange for email address at sonvolt.net]
6. “Q.U.E.E.N.,” Janelle Monáe [feat. Erykah Badu]
This song is a perfect distillation of what I love about Monae and what makes her the most exciting thing to happen to R&B since Prince (who lends his talents to the preceding album track). It morphs from an electro dance jam to a horn inflected, cool-jazz interlude to a fiery, defiant, literate, political rap that manages to rhyme “Nefertiti” with “Kansas City”and throw in a Phillip K. Dick reference. Continuing the Afrofuturism themes she put to use on her previous work, the Atlanta-based artist has created a celebratory single for all the outcasts, many of whom are represented in that titular acronym. (Hint: The Q is for “queer.”)
5. “Nanobots,” They Might Be Giants
While this appropriately robotic-sounding pop song might appear on the surface to simply be about a society of microscopic machines just waiting to rise up and destroy humanity, nerd-rock godfather John Linnell says it is inspired by the fact that he is father to a 14 year old and has, in effect, created something he no longer has control over. [even more words]
4. “1x1x1,” Cloud Cult
Guys! Why aren’t you listening to Cloud Cult? Cloud Cult is really good. I know I say this every time the Minnesota band puts out a new album, but come on. You really ought to. Here, start with this song. It has this fancy alternate-tuning guitar melody going on, a few sections good for some serious headbanging and a message so earnest that only Craig Minowa could deliver it without sounding trite or unintentionally dirty: “If you keep trying to fill your holes with the next best thing, then the next best thing will give you more and more holes.”
3. “The Next Day,” David Bowie
I hope I’m not aggrandizing things too much when I say this song reminds me of T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land.” The lyrics contain the line, “Their soggy paper bodies wash ashore in the dark.” That’s some dark, enigmatic weirdness right there. And clearly I’m not the only guy who read American Gods and thinks that the chorus sounds suspiciously like how the Norse god Odin was hung from Yggdrasill, the “world tree.” With snarling guitars and prophetic allusions, the title track from Bowie’s most critically acclaimed album in decades rollicks along with as much musical energy and verve as “Joe the Lion” (or any number of other uptempo salvos from his 1970s golden era), and the soon-to-be-67 year old sounds as audacious and indignant as he did at 30. The controversial official video doesn’t feature the entire song, but it does feature a blustery Gary Oldman as a lecherous priest.
2. “Ohio,” Patty Griffin [feat. Robert Plant]
The last two songs on this list are both gorgeous tracks by singer-songwriters with geographic titles. This is the slower of the two. It is arguably the prettier of the two. And it is unquestionably the more hypnotic of the two. It was nearly No. 1. While most of Griffin’s seventh album was inspired by her late father, this song was inspired by inspired by Toni Morrison’s Beloved. Griffin wrote a moving set of lyrics about fugitive slaves making their way to freedom. She credits her duet partner (not to mention romantic partner, if you care about such things) for coming up with the song’s mythic, earthy sound. [even more words]
1. “Stockholm,” Jason Isbell
Formerly part of the trifecta that made Drive-By Truckers such a formidable songwriting force, as a solo artist, Isbell has gradually moved away from rip-roaring southern rock and toward acoustic intimacy. That’s especially true on his fourth album, which concentrates on his relationship with fellow musician Amanda Shires and how she pushed him to enter rehab. In this bounding track (one of the more rock-oriented tunes on what is essentially a country album), Isbell finds himself in Sweden—on tour, one presumes, or perhaps just metaphorically—reflecting on how unprepared he was for something this serious. It is a powerful song, the confessions of a man both exhilarated and terrified.
Once a wise man to the ways of the world
Now I’ve traded those lessons for faith in a girl
Crossed the ocean, thousand years from my home
In this frozen old city of silver and stone
Ships in the harbor and birds on the bluff
Don’t move an inch when their anchor goes up
And the difference with me is I’ve fallen in love
Stockholm let me go home
Jason Isbell performs April 29 at The Fillmore in San Francisco. [tickets]
