Listomania: Favorite Songs of the 00's (90-81)

Welp, here's this week's edition of Listomania. Remember, click the song title and it'll take you to the track on the youtubes.

90. “As Serious as Your Life” by Four Tet (Rounds, 2003)

Four Tet makes for great studying music, mainly because his music is so minimalistic: you can hit play on iTunes while reading a book and not worry a bit about the music serving as anything less than great background music. I oftentimes will play online poker while listening to this guy because it keeps me focused and doesn’t distract me with vocals or flashy instrumentals. Not this song. It immediately announces its presence with a distinct, very un-Four Tet guitar riff followed by Kieran Hebden’s classic rhythm section. This song pulsates and clatters—it demands to be listened to, especially on an album where most of the other tracks are very solemn and quiet. To sum things up, it’s a freaking cool song that is chill to the max.

89. “Staring at the Sun” by TV on the Radio (Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes, 2004)

If I were to describe “Staring at the Sun” in one word, that word might be “driving.” Or “boomboomboom.” The beauty of this song is how the static guitar snarls over Tunde Adebimpe’s simple and oft-repeated lyrics, which only add to the imagery of being overswept (by the elements, a befuddled lover, whatever it is these homies are singing about) as the iteration of each lyric is amplified as the song progresses.

88. “My Lady Story” by Antony and the Johnsons (I Am a Bird Now, 2005)

Antony’s vocals are always the highlight of any song he might be singing on, whether it be with his main project The Johnsons or with electronic group Hercules & Love Affair. The man’s got a voice, and he certainly uses it to its full potential. Upon first-listen, I’d argue that most of us would probably think it was a large, soulful black man singing. Nope: it’s a gay little British man. Yet, despite the evident soul, there’s a sort of ghostly insecurity in his quivering voice, something that has come to serve as Antony’s calling card over the years.

87. “Dark Center of the Universe” by Modest Mouse (The Moon & Antarctica, 2000)

Gah, what an album. What a song. It starts off all kinds of things spacey, with a weightlesss lilt before the guitars come thrashing in alongside Isaac Brock’s lispy, tumultuous voice…and then, back to the airy and weightless. Back to normal. It’s a song with a split personality. But it works, and only in that weird way Modest Mouse alone could do it.

86. “Delicate” by Damien Rice (O, 2002)

I’ve grown out of Damien Rice it seems like. Just about every song of his has something to do with the topic of unrequited or embittered love—themes that the 16-year-old, emo version of me had a much easier time relating to. I almost didn’t include this track from my list…but then I remembered the first time I heard it. My girlfriend Mary sent me the song via snail mail while I was in Germany, suffering from a bit of homesickness. This was early on in our relationship and naturally I still considered myself a romantic, so as soon as Rice’s vulnerable Irish voice shouted to me “WHY’D YOU FILL MY SORROW?” my heart soared as they raced back to memories of Mary and home. Yeah, I know, barforama.

85. “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley (St. Elsewhere, 2006)

Oh, gosh. Who doesn’t remember this song? So much of this decade’s pop has been marred by truly God-awful tunes in the top ten. But what of “Crazy?” It had the kind of grooviness and soul that many of those top ten pop songs imitated but couldn’t quite authentically capture, which is probably why this song was such a cross-genre hit. It had a little something for everyone...although not quite enough for me to rank it higher.

84. “For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti” by Sufjan Stevens (Michigan, 2003)

I think it’s pretty safe to say that Sufjan Steven’s album does Michigan great justice. It offers a poignant view of his home state, one that is intimately of its beauty and enchantments yet frank and critical of its faults. Much of the album is pensive and melancholy, something that “Widows in Paradise” typifies: Sufjan’s delicate vocals, the downbeat chorus, the dour trumpets. It’s an immensely personal, fragile song. It was also the one that first put Sufjan on the map.

83. “Clocks” by Coldplay (A Rush of Blood to the Head, 2002)

Another one of those songs that probably everybody from my generation has heard at one point or another. To me it’s an almost strange song for a hit, because it’s anthemic but possesses a sort of drowsiness in the repeating piano riff and Chris Martin’s sleepy delivery. But it’s that freaking piano riff, man. Drowsy or not, it’s one monstrous, expansive hook that demands the listener’s attention from start to finish—and eight years after its inception, I’m still listening.

82. “Twilight” by Elliott Smith (From a Basement on the Hill, 2004)

This song should be higher, but I had a hard time justifying placing it above many of the other tracks on this list, especially considering that this was an unfinished song released posthumously. Despite this being an unfinished product, the song has a grasping resonance. The strumming is slow and simple, with the sole focus being on Smith’s spiderweb-thin, anguished vocals. The instrumental in the middle of the piece is the icing on the cake.

81. “The Rat” by the Walkmen (Bows + Arrows, 2004)

Unhinged, relentless fuming. That’s what this song is. I can think of few songs from this decade that more effectively capture the outrage of love gone bad than the spitted, venomous vocals in “The Rat.” Of course, the song’s vocal acidity would be nothing without the flat-out frenzied cymbal crushing and frittering bassline in what amounts to what might be one of the best "Eff U!" songs ever written.