Best Song Ever: April 2013 (Round 1)

I've been going a little stir crazy lately. The little elves inside my brain that write my reviews have been fatigued since the new year: despite being flush with great new releases by the likes of Hollerado and David Bowie, not to mention finally getting into Husker Du, it's a little tough getting anything going, as far as writing for this site. I'm reluctant to return to the grind. Then an idea hit me. A really stupid idea, but maybe a fun one.

About a year ago, the entertainment site Vulture ran a series of articles designed to determine the best TV drama of the past 20 years. They used a tournament bracket setup and a panel of esteemed judges. It made for a really entertaining bunch of articles. Every now and again I have thought it might be interesting to find a way to incorporate something like that into SOTW.

So what has happened is that I had iTunes select 32 random tunes from my (active/checked) library: some are things I've covered on SOTW, some are my old personal favourites, some are objective classics and some are recent gems. And maybe some suck but I just happen to have them. Although the idea of pitting entertainments against each other is inherently an incorrect way of looking at it (I cannot stress that enough,) I am nakedly admitting that I'm just doing this for shits and giggles. The song that wins this tournament (be thankful I'm not doing full albums) can't possibly be the literal best song ever. By necessity, it's something that I listen to anyway, and I loves me some music so I'm not going to be too harsh on any of these songs. In doing this, hopefully, it will spotlight a lot of great tunes that haven't come up in regular conversation lately. Let's speed through the first half of our opening round:

Tokyo Police Club, "Frankenstein" vs. Japandroids, "Fire's Highway"

Tokyo was one of the first albums I truly, completely loved after starting this blog, and "Frankenstein" is a fantastic closer to that album, acting as a comedown from the jittery, hooky synth-power-pop, with its mellotronic tones and quivering guitars, and that staggering drumbeat. It's very odd that this competition begins with something that wraps up its original album so completely and satisfactorily.

It's an old favourite versus a new one, though, because Japandroids was one of the best albums of 2012, and "Fire's Highway," with its splashing riffs and thundering drums sums up its qualities succinctly. It's got those echoing, anthemic "oh's" and coarse vocals. "Fire's Highway" is definitely a great piece of an excellent whole, but "Frankenstein" is a complete listening experience on its own. It gets the nod.

Winner: "Frankenstein"

David Bowie, "Love is Lost" vs. The Exploding Hearts, "I'm a Pretender"

In one corner, a dense, pulsing, organ-fueled, moody track from David Bowie's great new album. In the other, a snotty, brash piece of mid-2000s pop punk. You might think you know the answer, but you don't. All things being equal, and the Bowie album being great, its newness works against it, and I haven't had enough time to become as attached to it, especially not this particular song, as I have to the perfectly raucous Exploding Hearts.

Winner: "I'm a Pretender"



Joel Plaskett Emergency, "Penny For Your Thoughts" vs. Richard & Linda Thompson, "Shoot Out the Lights"

Oof. This bracket is a killer. "Penny" is a key part of the terrific concept album that is Ashtray Rock, a cheeky, playful and catchy as hell ode to young love. And "Shoot Out The Lights" is a lumbering, towering freefall of depression and despair. It just hits that sweet spot. I've got to give it to RT, who bring one of my favourite guitar solos ever to this track. I feel like Joel would understand.

Winner: "Shoot Out The Lights"

The Who, "Substitute" vs. Japandroids, "For The Love of Ivy"

The BC Duo face tough competition for the second time tonight, going up against major-minor Who fave, "Substitute." Not the most beloved Who song, but also not my favourite track off Celebration Rock -- if it swapped places with "Fire's Highway" this would be a running battle. In the end, The Who's original takes it over Japandroid's cover. The best Who songs are quirky and weird and hard rocking all at once, and this is no exception.

Winner: The Who



Jack White, "Blunderbuss" vs. The Eels, "The Longing"

Not the closest matchup of the tournament so far, but definitely the most downbeat. The shimmering Nashville Skyline-esque beauty of White's solo debut title track goes up against a free verse poem set to a ghostly waltz by Mark Oliver "E" Everett. And make no mistake, as part of El Hombre Lobo: 12 Songs of Desire (which I'm totally gonna review soon) it's a key track, bringing a deep dimension of pain and despair in its refrain ("Surely there are other things to life / But I can't think of one single thing / That matters more than just to see her...") but "Blunderbuss" is one of the best tracks on one of the best albums of last year.

Winner: "Blunderbuss"

Arcade Fire, "Wasted Hours" vs. Talking Heads, "Once in a Lifetime"

This seems to be a recurring theme: matching songs that are great as part of a complete package against songs that can be listened to at any time in any situation. The Neil Young-tinged "Wasted Hours" is a great part of the overarching sound of The Suburbs, with its dusky-lazily strummed twang. But "Once in a Lifetime" is fucking "Once in a Lifetime!" I don't even need to tell you why it wins.

Winner: "Once in a Lifetime"

Nirvana, "Sliver" vs. Aerosmith, "Movin' Out"

Holy shit, this is regrettable. I have actually said "Sliver" is my favourite Nirvana song. Not always, but I have. It just sums them up so perfectly, their power and poppiness, their angst and perverse humour, writing a punk-grunge song from the perspective of an angsty child forced to stay with his grandparents. "Grandma take me home" is maybe one of the most surprisingly awesome rock lyrics ever (up there with the Pixies' "it's educational!") But look who they're up against. Much to the chagrin of many of my bemused colleagues, I have professed my lifelong love for that band time and again. And "Movin' Out" is not minor Aerosmith, it's got that sinewy riff, those hippie hangover post-psychedelic philosophy class lyrics that are utter nonsense but work better because of it. Rip the heart right out of my chest why don't you.

Winner: "Movin' Out"



Arcade Fire, "Ready to Start" vs. Lit, "My Own Worst Enemy"

Arcade Fire makes its return appearance coming up against one of the biggest rock hits of the 90's. And I love me some 90s rock, but with one of the most dense, subtle-yet-rocking tracks off The Suburbs, the 2011 Best Album Grammy winners take it. That lyrics, "I would rather be alone than pretend I feel all right" just does it for me, man.



Talking Heads, "Take Me To The River" vs. Tokyo Police Club, "End of a Spark"

I think Talking Heads' reading of Al Green's sexual-angst-via-religion "Take Me To The River," as a tightly-wound plastic funk explosion is one of the greatest covers ever committed to tape. And "End of a Spark" happens to be one of my favourite tracks off Champ and a terrific piece of 2010 alt-power-pop. And with both bands already having a slot in Round 2, it's an interesting scenario. If the Heads didn't win, it would be because it's not the even-better Stop Making Sense version but the original recorded version. Or perhaps because there's an inherent push against covers in this contest.

Winner: "End of a Spark"

Aerosmith, "Lightning Strikes" vs. my bloody valentine, "only tomorrow"

Two more different tracks from my iPod, you could hardly find. On the one hand, sludgy early-80s hard rock from Aerosmith's redacted era. On the other hand, a track from My Bloody Valentine's 2013 comeback album, the gauzy, low-fi, moaning, squealing, sighing, shoegaze epic mbv. It's bad enough I gave 'Smith the nod over Nirvana, I know James Leask would flay me if I passed over mbv for this one. Or at the very least, he would cancel my scheduled appearance on his podcast next week. Luckily for him, and mbv, this is minor Aerosmith we're talking about: Joe Perry wasn't even with the band for this album, and while I think it happens to be underrated, it's still not in the same league as one of the best tunes from this terrific album, mbv: I love the way it builds and culminates in that staggering, beautiful riff.

Winner: "only tomorrow"

The Hives, "Hate To Say I Told You So" vs. Gin Blossoms, "Hey Jealousy"

Now here's a matchup: the razor sharp garage punk of early-2000s Hives and the warm fuzzy aw-shucks self deprecation of the Gin Blossoms. It's not an easy win for the Blossoms, but it's a clean one.

Winner: "Hey Jealousy"

Joel Plaskett Emergency, "Written All Over Me" vs. Arctic Monkeys, "Brianstorm"

Joel! So glad you're back. Here we see the opening track from his "Truthfully, Truthfully" album paired against the opening track of Arctic Monkeys' second disc. For me, Favourite Worst Nightmare takes a few tracks to really hit its stride, and "Brian" is an only-okay holdover from the Whatever People Say I Am era. "Written All Over Me," meanwhile, exudes all the charm and wit that permeates all of Plaskett's music, a mischievous, down home chunk of riffage that always gets me going. Great curtain raiser.

Winner: "Written All Over Me"

Deer Tick, "The Bump" vs. Deer Tick, "Chevy Express"

Now here's a wild card. I had never even listened to Deer Tick before a few weeks ago, when someone showed me A.V. Club's Undercover series, featuring a terrific take on one of my all-time favourite songs, Harvey Danger's "Flagpole Sitta." I got the album, Divine Providence, and I liked it, and then moved on. Then my random playlist generator sat these two songs, neither of which I could recall from memory, right next to each other, the only instance in round one of a band going up against itself. So I left it in - and revised my proposed "only one song per band" rule, just to see how it played out. "The Bump" is them at their bar band best, and "Chevy Express" is a more intimate ballad. Both great and for different reasons, but I've gotta give it to the former.

Winner: "The Bump"



Matt Mays, "Indio" vs. The La's "I Can't Sleep"

Matt Mays released a great album in 2012, which I will review soon, and "Indio" is a terrific intro to it, with its dusty, mystic southwestern feel. Against weaker opposition, it might have won, but "I Can't Sleep" is The La's at their peak power, right up there with "There She Goes." Life's not fair sometimes.

Winner: "I Can't Sleep"

The Vaccines, "Wetsuit" vs. Zeus, "Kindergarten"

"Wetsuit" brings to mind tunes like "Favourite Food" from Tokyo Police Club, or Joshua Tree era U2, the way it builds modestly to ignite a towering inferno. It's maybe not as grandiose as all that, but it's a good listen. The first Zeus record was one of my favourite records of 2010, and here's some high spirited madness from them. They edge out the win.

Winner: "Kindergarten"

The Animals, "House of the Rising Sun" vs. The Who, "Behind Blue Eyes"

It could be the case that this entire tournament is a contest to see who gets to come in second to the winner of this match. Based on reputation alone, these might be the two heaviest hitters of the lot, and they are up against each other in round one. "House of the Rising Sun" was my favourite song as a kid: Eric Burdon's voice is so dour and enigmatic and gloomy, and that guitar is just so perfect, as the organ bubbles under the surface before overtaking it completely.

Both these songs have their mystical qualities. The Who has already advanced in this tournament, but not like this. That was early Who, this is mid-Who, Who's Next, post-Tommy, circa Pete Townshend completely losing his marbles in the Lifehouse debacle and coming back with one of the most phenomenal records of all time. "Behind Blue Eyes" is the hypothetical villain song, building to that great climax, this is that band at nearly their best (besides "Baba O'Riley," for sure.) This is the hardest call of the night. What's more, it comes back to that same dilemma: a great single, or a great album song.

Really listening, really thinking about it, hearing the individual strings of Pete Townshend's guitar, the crawling of John Entwhistle's bass, one of Roger Daltrey's best vocal performances, and then that moment when Keith Moon's drums come in. Songs like this are what you're really thinking of when you think of the Who. And it's not even 8 minutes long. It's actually shorter than its hit single opponent. If I could only hear one of these songs ever again, I don't know if I'd pick the same, but tonight, it has to be.

Winner: "Behind Blue Eyes"



So maybe I do have a bias against covers (although "Rising Sun" may as well be an original.) It's quite a selection I have for myself in Round 2. Place your bets and get ready to get disproportionately mad... if you're not already.

Zeus: Busting Visions

There's a trap with a band's second album, which I've talked about before. If you loved the first one, as I did Zeus', it inevitably becomes a competition, and the second album inevitably loses. The first album gives you a new experience, makes an impression. If the second album is just more of the same, it pales in comparison. If it tries to find a new direction, it could be a betrayal. For me, on first listen, this was closer to the latter. It sounds close enough, but there's nothing on this album quite as immediately pleasurable to me as "Marching Through Your Head" or the rest of Say Us' second half. This one is actually kinda distant and obscure and experimental, and even if the first one was inventive and odd in its own way it sure did feel "here." This is an album I had to go to. One I had to figure out. That has its own rewards.

The band is probably moving together a bit more on this album, so the sound is more consistent and easier to characterize. There's an early-70's post-psychedelic pop/early prog rock feel to it. Moments like "With Eyes Closed" remind me of the Zombies, with its swirling, mind-searching backdrop. There are a few interludes like "Bright Brown Opus" and "Proud and Beautiful" that are meant as scenery rather than actual songs: mood-cleansers. Many of the songs, like the lovely "Let It Go, Don't Let It Go" are leisurely and thoughtful. In moments like "Love In a Game," and "Now That I've Got You" there are self-conscious invocations of piano bar music, but it's a degree or two off from Billy Joel as far as sanity goes. Think Steely Dan with edge, Supertramp with heart... or even maybe some post-breakup Beatles, the way they push at the boundaries without forgetting that they're writing songs, not symphonies.

The opening track, "Are You Gonna Waste My Time?" makes a great transition from the first album to the second. On the surface it has a gritty down-to-earth riffy nature, but subtly introduces the experimental elements that guide the songwriting. The ominous "Love Pain" is the song that makes me think specifically of John Lennon in the early 70's. A couple of tense tracks, like "Anything You Want Dear" and "Strong Mind" show how good the band is at controlling a mood. The band really knows their art, are comfortable tinkering, and the key for me was that I was having a lot of fun thinking about what they were doing.

The staggering, uphill crawl of "Hello, Tender Love" is the climax of the album for me, even though it comes on just-this-side of the middle. It rises and falls so effectively, like crashing waves that grow steadily more powerful. That last minute or so is probably the finest minute on the album. It then gets a hangover in the form of "Messenger's Way," the type bright, upbeat, playful tune that fills out the album.

I like this album, and I love this band. I love the way they do things, how they can just go for it and pursue their ideas to the fullest, following certain influences without being too reverent. You couldn't tell them how things are supposed to be, they have to find their own way there, and it's quite a trip. Busting Visions is quite an apt title.

Buy this album now: iTunes Canada // iTunes USA // Amazon.ca // Amazon.com

Cover: Zeus, "That's All"

I'm going to devote one post per week to a great or at least interesting cover. It's an idea that's been kicking around my head for a while, but I wasn't sure how to introduce the notion. Then while I was writing up Zeus' Say Us, I happened upon this track from their EP, a cover of Genesis' "That's All." I've never thought that much of Genesis, but it's a pretty decent song and tackled by this group it becomes an intense atomic hurricane siren.

Zeus: Say Us

It begins simply, with the anxious tapping of percussion, the drumsticks against the rim of the snare drum, and ends in a swell of instruments, pianos, slide guitars, gorgeously drenched harmonies and whirling organs. In the twelve tracks it takes to get there, everything happens. Maybe.

At first glance, the debut album by Zeus seems to be easy to put your finger on, but the more I listened to it, the more overtaken I was by its various elements. The songs are too well-constructed to be jammy trips, and yet just a step or two off balance with pop songwriting. The instruments, passed from member to member along with the microphone, are rarely used the same way twice. Albums like Say Us are the reason I like albums: sometimes they add up to a beguiling whole that goes beyond the individual songs on them. And as distinct as those songs are, they still feel unified, propelled from one to the next, broken only by the imaginary, fabricated designation on the package: "Side A / Side B."

"How Does It Feel?" the song that opens the album with those taps (which soon give way to sympathetic pianos and mocking guitars,) unfolds in its 2:49 as a blueprint for the rest of the album: do as much as you can, one thing after the other, as well as possible. So when the guitars and pianos clash back and forth like a duet, the guitars raise the stakes with a blistery solo but the pianos get the last laugh as they climb into the clouds for that last chorus.

Like that song, the album slowly unfolds itself, showing its tricks one after another and never lingering, never repeating. It's like (don't say it, urges a voice inside me,) Abbey Road, where every contributor is given full support and helps build the whole, whether it be the country-blues of "The River By The Garden" or the hazy "Fever Of The Time." None of it feels like a genre exercise, and though the mysterious lyrics often keep the listener at bay, it also never has to reach for sincerity. It's all in the expression.

The second half excites me more than the first, with one of the finest moments coming in the changeover between "You Gotta' Teller" and "I Know." The former track is a monstrous, charged, organ-based thundering rocker that sounds like Vanilla Fudge doing "You Keep Me Hanging On." The latter is a dreamy, galloping plea for sympathy. When the urgent heat of "Teller" is finally brought to its end, there's just a brief moment of quiet, before the cool breath of "I Know" drifts in with its quivering beauty. "Now I know, now I know / How it feels, how it feels..." although what "it" is is never explicitly said. The lyrics throughout this thing as a whole form an exhaustive exploration of communication.

No matter who is writing each individual song, or who is playing what, most of them tend to come back to: thinking, feeling, speaking, hearing, interpreting, understanding, wondering, knowing and telling. The songs encompass this impressive scope by doing their work to convey or obscure feelings. "Marching Through Your Head," with its pulsing pianos, manages to get into sound that feeling of pacing back and forth trying to work out a problem with your lover, "Do you feel it all the time / the way she preys upon your mind? / She's a fiend for your love, and that's all..." combined with the most effective hook on the album, the one that will most likely be marching through your head, but will keep surprising you when you come back to it. Or the loving, longing "The Sound of You," which takes a person's voice as their essence, and wonders, "How could we know, how could we know, how could we know?" The album closer (after the gathering storm of "Heavy On Me") is "At The Risk of Repeating," which is another tune about trying to get at the heart of the matter and still coming up short. But what words can't say, music often does. That music often has enough power, or enough charm, to keep you coming back.

I don't know if it's really the musical variety, or the lyrical mystery that kept me coming back to this album. It's just amazing how good it sounds, how well it does quiet and modest, as well as powerful and anguished. The boys in Zeus attack their tunes like a bunch of seasoned vets taking on excellent new material: the music is in them and it's in their nature to get it out.

Say Us doesn't make a grand statement, it's a rather unassuming record with many great surprises that aren't necessarily obvious the first time you listen. You'll think "This is a pretty good song," once or twice every five minutes and put it away and forget it, but if even a scrap of a tune remains in your brain, you'll want to take it out again and sooner or later it'll get into you. Tellingly, Zeus' debut EP (does anyone buy those or are they just a lark?) was called Sounds like Zeus. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't come up with any easier way to explain their sound. I even stooped to a Beatles comparison. But, speaking as a guy who has struggled to express himself once or twice in the past (I know, hard to believe,) this album speaks for itself. It's something you've just gotta feel for yourself.

Buy this album from iTunes now!

Say Us by Zeus was the third installment in my 4-part "Favourites of 2010" -- it comes in at #2, ahead of Broken Social Scene's Forgiveness Rock Record and Be in Love by Locksley.