We continue our march through Joe’s favorite songs of all time, as
drunkenly determined by him a couple weeks ago. If you missed the
Honorable Mentions, check ’em out here.
Otherwise, sit back, relax, crack open your favorite flavor of Four Loko, and listen to the best tunes ever created (besides 80 other ones).
Though technically a cover song, the Kingsmen made “Louie Louie” what it is, a party song worthy of the craziest parties. To me, the song will always signify victory. I was a member of the La Salle HS pep band from ’03-’07, and the La Salle U pep band from ’07-’11, and for both bands, we’d play this song every time our sports team one. Depending on the year and the sport, we might play the song twice, we might play it 200 times, but each time, we played it with a jubilation one can only feel when your home team wins a tight one. “Louie Louie” will always be an Explorers fight song to me.
Yes, “Fat Lip” is one of the greatest songs of all time, and if you don’t agree, then your doctor probably told your mom she should’ve had an abortion. The vocal baton-passing in this song is soooo goddamn corny, but when it came out in 2001, corny punk songs were just what we were in to. It’s a blast whenever this song comes on, even fifteen years later, and you just past those singalong lyrics around the room, and remember the good times.
Maybe if this song didn’t come out like five months ago I’d be more comfortable putting it higher on the list. Suffice it to say it’s a great fucking song and only getting better every dozen times I listen to it. Actually, that doesn’t suffice, so here’s Smash Mouth’s opinion on the matter:
I was in a weird place the summer after sophomore year of college, and I had a lot of time to think about it, spending 20 hours a week by myself, sorting books on the third floor of La Salle’s library. Sunset Rubdown’s Dragonslayer somehow became my go-to album during that time, and “You Go On Ahead” was my anthem. The lyrics are typical Spencer Krug cryptic mumbo jumbo, but man, I totally convinced myself that I felt what he meant. It sounded to me like the narrator was just... tired. Like he’d had enough. That he just wanted to leave. Even though that’s probably not what the song is about, that’s what it sounded like to me, that weird summer, those many years ago. I still enjoy its misery today.
Christ, you wanna talk about angst? Haha, I always remember listening to this song in the car with Pam. She told me to put on a happy song, so I put this song on—because it’s a relentless song that truly pumps you up—and then the first lyric begins: “I wish I had a bullet big enough to fucking kill the sun!” The lyrics are hopelessly pessimistic to the point of parody, and that’s what makes it so great! Because sometimes you feel like shit, and you really would rather extinguish the sun than have to begin another day.
Compared to the rest of their discography, “Fashion Coat” is not the National’s most complex song. It’s barely longer than two minutes, it crawls along mid-tempo, a short drum fill indicates when each verse is over, the guitar lightly strums along to it all. I don’t know what it is that appeals to me so greatly, but isn’t that just the magic of the National? Everything they touch is gold, even a simple little two-minute ditty.
I warned you that certain songs were weighted unfairly just because they became integral to me during heightened times in my life, and here is a good example. It’s a goofy song by a goofy pair of singers. You may know it played memorably in 500 Days of Summer. I’m not saying I had never heard it before Joseph Gordon-Levitt dances to it after getting laid, but it stuck in my mind after seeing that. And of course, when I first started sleeping over at Pam’s, I would leave in the morning, pop this song on, high-five the mailman, sing with the birdie that landed on my shoulder, and hop-skip to the train station. Super lame, sure, but I felt good, and I still feel good listening to this shit.
The first four minutes are nothing but a low synth, and Dan Bejar signature slightly-higher voice singing deadpan lyrics. He begins: “Listen... I’ve been drinking.” And honestly, what would be a slightly boring intro—one that lasts seven minutes!—soars under Bejar’s leadership. Finally, the drums kick in, and the song turns into a slinky yacht-rock tune. What happens when one of the weirdest, most brilliant artists decides to do “epic.”
This is another cover song, but it’s another song for which the cover version is the best one. Why? Well, it still has Jackson Browne (the original artist) doing his guitar-picking thing. Then it has the flute/strings in the background. They were added without Nico’s knowledge, apparently, and she said they sounded "like shit," but I kind of disagree. I think they add another layer of sadness. Lastly, you have Nico’s voice herself, which sound like, well, it sounds like she isn’t trained very well in singing. Almost like her pronunciation is off a bit? But this, again, is a good thing. It may sound “off,” but it sounds fucking sincere. It’s a sad song that’s soundtracked a few sad parts of my life.
91. [deleted]
[Editor's note: this song was edited out a couple years later, because we don't say nice things about child molesters and rapists here on PoYB.]
I can only use this cop-out one throughout the whole list, so I can’t believe I’m gonna burn it on #90, but here it is: Sometimes a good song is just a good song, and you appreciate it as such, and it has no other deeper meaning behind it then everything in the song working together to make you feel good.
The version of this song I was first exposed to (on the Dead’s hit collection Skeletons from the Closet) fades in in the middle of a guitar solo, suggesting that the band has been jamming away to the song a lot longer than we have the privilege of hearing. This makes me upset, because shit, I can’t get enough of this song. Karma repays me, however, when we stumble into Hop Angel in Fox Chase every year to hear a cover band play a version of this song. I’m usually fifteen beers deep when they play it, and the dance floor is packed, but goddamn it brings the house down. This is THE Northeast Philly dive bar dance floor party song.
As much as I made fun of my friends back in the day for liking this emo bullshit, I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t like Taking Back Sunday. And, hoo-boy, this is truly some emo bullshit. But I love it. I love the high-pitched register of the singer. I love the breakdown into the half-time signature. I love the bass drum thump on every single beat. I love the video with all the swinging of the microphone. It’s really bad, you guys. It’s like one of those movies that’s so bad it becomes good again. This is the Troll 2 of early 2000s pop punk.
My first exposure to the name “Warren Zevon” was those commercials that used to run on VH1 all the time, the ones for The Wind, which Zevon recorded after he was diagnosed with incurable cancer. Naturally, I thought for a while that Zevon was a singer of sad songs. Then I heard “Lawyers, Guns, and Money,” which is consistently upbeat and utterly hilarious. The man is a spectrum.
Whelp, this is it, folks. You’re not going to see another rap song on this list. Does this mean I’m claiming “Swimming Pools (Drank)” is the best rap song of all time? I’m probably not knowledgeable enough to make such a claim. I do know that this song speaks to my sensibilities more so than most rap, mostly the love of alcohol and the fear of alcoholism and subconsciously knowing that, yeah, you’re an alcoholic. To Pimp a Butterfly, Lamar’s album after the one this was on, was way more important, for sure, but that album wasn’t speaking to me. It wasn’t written for me, I’m not supposed to get it. This song, though, this is for me. Plus, Kendrick’s “conscience” rapping slays me every time.
I feel like it’s sacrilege saying that a Zep song without John Bonham is one of my favorite Zep songs, but this song is just that powerful. It’s just so delicate, it stands in such contrast to the rest of their discography.
Yes, the song is kind of dickish in the way it was conceived. Lindsey Buckingham basically wrote it as a kiss-off to his ex, and then made that same ex sing backup vocals. Brutal! But then so too was the entire recording process of Rumours, according to legend. We used to go on a President’s Day Weekend annual trip to the Poconos every weekend when I was younger, and Fleetwood Mac was consistently on the stereo every year. So we I hear this song, I don’t really think about the pain of loss or the anger in getting fucked over by someone you love. I hear “Go Your Own Way” and feel the happiness of being young and being free in the wilderness. The disconnect is startling.
There’s gonna be a handful of Motown songs on this list, because there are a lot of Motown songs that encapsulate the truly best parts about music, and the true joy they can bring. Stevie Wonder shows that here, and shows it strongly. What a jam.
There will never be a better song, ever, in history, that compares the act being in love to the act of going to church. It’s a metaphor that, in lesser hands, would be terrible, but in the hands of Chance the Rapper, fucking SOARS. Tell me you don’t get a little choked up watching this video!
Two of my favorite things come together in this song. The Decemberists, of course, are one of the best bands of all time (let’s call them a solid #4), and this song is emblematic of what makes them so good. Seriously, what other band could have such a catchy hook attached to lyrics about the American heartland being laid waste by tribes from the Mediterranean? Then we have another of my favorite things when the lyrics name check my favorite book of all time, Infinite Jest. The video (directed by Michael Schur, the creator of Parks & Rec) portrays the second best scene from that book, the Interdependence Day Eschaton Massacre (errr... no time to explain that one, just read the book). Sometimes the things you love make sense together.
Check back in either this week or next for the next cuh-RAZY installment of “Joe Bullshits His Way Through a List,” featuring #80-61!
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