Monthly Archives April 2015

The 100 Greatest Songs of the Rock Era: #88: Superstition

By lousiteadmin

Lyrics

Stevie Wonder from Talking Book (1972)

“Do you think there’s any rock superstar with more range than Stevie Wonder?” Peggy said.

“Well, the Beatles had a lot of range.”

“Sure, but I don’t know that even their catalog was as diverse as Wonder’s has been. Look at the two songs from him in your top one hundred so far – a sentimental ballad and a funk rave-up. And even that doesn’t express his full range. You can go even more sentimental with something like ‘Sunshine of My Life’ and into something approaching hard rock with ‘Higher Ground.’”

“Speaking of hard rock, you know that ‘Superstition’ was supposed to be Jeff Beck’s song, right?”

“Jeff Beck?”

“Yeah, Beck was starting Beck, Bogart & Appice, and Wonder wrote this song for them. Then Beck’s new band had delays getting their album out and Wonder released ‘Superstition’ on Talking Book. The BB&A version is really good, though it’s hard to imagine it would have been anywhere near that hit that Wonder’s version turned out to be if it had come out first.”

“Great songs can go in lots of different directions.”

“Exactly. Actually, that was one of the standards I used for putting this list together. The song had to have the potential to work in multiple arrangements. I was specifically thinking that it had to work with one instrument, since that would get to the essence of the song.”

“I’m not sure I see this song working with one instrument.”

“Really? I could imagine a sleek version on acoustic guitar. That wasn’t really the point in this case, though. The ‘multiple arrangements’ thing applies here.”

Peggy laughed, but didn’t say anything else.

“What?” I said.

“You’re still a rock geek after all these years, aren’t you.”

It would have been silly to protest that.

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Apr 23, 2015
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The 100 Greatest Songs of the Rock Era: #89: Wide Open Spaces

By lousiteadmin

Lyrics

Dixie Chicks from Wide Open Spaces (1998)

“This is your first big chorus song,” Peggy said. “That’s surprising, because I always took you to be a big chorus guy.”

I heard what Peggy wasn’t saying. Back when we were close, she’d use musical preferences as a form of psychoanalysis. She strongly believed that people who liked songs with soaring choruses with multi-layered harmonies – songs like “Wide Open Spaces” – were the kinds of people who loved their families and had responsible jobs. People who liked songs that were less immediately “singable” contributed something to the world. I’d never been able to convince her that a person could fall into both of those categories. It’s unlikely I had a better argument for her now.

“We’ve only just gotten into the top ninety,” I said. “I think it’s safe for you to assume there will be more.”

“Glad to see you haven’t changed too much on me. This is a really good song, though. It was the first time I’d ever heard Dixie Chicks. I’d kinda written them off from their name. Who knew back then that Natalie Maines was such a badass.”

“Yeah, it took a few more years before that became obvious. ‘Wide Open Spaces’ made it clear that they were primed for mainstream pop stardom, though.”

“No argument there. She had the plaintive/spunky vocal thing down, the fiddle carries you through the song without latching it to a genre . . . and then there’s that big chorus thing.”

“And you know how much I love those. I’m just that kind of guy.”

Peggy chuckled. “You know the line that gets me in this song every time?”

I answered instantly. “The one about checking the oil.”

“Yeah, that one. How’d you get it right away?”

I knew that Peggy had had a complicated relationship with her late father. They’d always had trouble communicating, and he never seemed to understand what mattered to her. He was the kind of man who would have yelled, “Check the oil” as he was driving away rather than “I love you.”

“Educated guess. I remember an old friend once telling me that you could use musical preferences as a form of psychoanalysis.”

 

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Apr 21, 2015
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The 100 Greatest Songs of the Rock Era: #90: Beast of Burden

By lousiteadmin

Lyrics
The Rolling Stones from Some Girls (1978)

“Well, so much for the romance,” Peggy said.

“Hey, we talked about how hard it is to get that right. I think this sentiment is much easier to express.”

“Maybe so. But it’s always going to sound cool coming from Jagger’s mouth.”

“Indeed. Though Bette Midler did an awfully good job with it. Sent the message in an entirely different direction.”

“Yeah, that was a great cover. I always thought the guitar part was what made this song unforgettable in the original, though, and that’s definitely missing from the Midler version. Did you ever notice that nearly all of Keith Richards’s riffs are built around strummed chords? That’s a pretty distinctive thing.”

“Well, ‘Satisfaction’ or ‘Gimme Shelter,’ but I get what you’re saying. He riffs in a different way than someone like Eric Clapton or Jack White or Prince, who usually use notes or runs.”

“This is a tough lyric, though. Definitely not a pretty relationship.”

“Remind you of anyone?”

Peggy laughed, but tentatively. “That girl is long gone.” She paused, and her voice modulated. “It’s hard to see any of myself in this song now.”

That last exchange was perhaps the clearest indication of the gulf the years had created between Peggy and me. It dawned on me that the woman I was envisioning on the other end of the phone was my good friend at twenty – and that I was much younger in my own head. And here was the thing: I couldn’t tell whether these phone calls were bringing us closer again, or just showing us how far we’ve drifted apart.

“The Edge,” I said, moving us toward safer ground. “He uses strummed chords for his riffs a lot, too.”

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Apr 10, 2015
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The 100 Greatest Songs of the Rock Era: #91: You and I

By lousiteadmin

Lyrics

Stevie Wonder from Talking Book (1972)

 

“Do you know this is the first truly romantic song on your list?” Peggy said.

“You don’t consider ‘Whole Lotta Love’ romantic? It even has ‘love’ in the title.”

“Yeah, I consider it romantic the way I consider the Big Mac to be food.”

I laughed. “‘You and I’ is a crazily romantic song, though, isn’t it?”

“You aren’t kidding. I listened to it this morning in advance of our call and I wouldn’t let my Stevie out of the bedroom.”

“I’ll skip the rest of the details, if you don’t mind.”

There was a moment of silence that felt odd to me. Then Peggy said, “Why do you think it’s so hard to write great love songs?”

I gave that a little bit of thought. Most of us have had at least some experience with love – maybe not as much experience as we’ve had with lust, or rage, or betrayal, but some. Why, then were there so few songs that captured the essence of love the way “You and I” did? I remembered a conversation I had a few years back with a music industry lawyer. He told me that after representing pop stars for so many years he became convinced that he was as capable of writing a hit as they were – until he tried. He figured the easiest kind of song to write was a love song and he spent a couple of days churning out one cliché after another until he went back to his day job.

“I think it comes down to there being a very fine line between banality and universality.”

“Translation, please.”

“I think it’s super easy to say the same thing that everyone else is saying, because there’s some level of truth to what everyone else is saying. To write a great love song, though – one that really gets through to people and lasts a long time – you need to find a way to capture the universals of love instead of stringing together a series of tired phrases. That’s what makes this song so brilliant.”

“That, and Stevie Wonder’s voice.”

“Well, yeah. And his mastery of melody.”

“So, really, all you need for a great love song is the ability to tap into universals, write gorgeous melodies, and sing like Stevie Wonder.”

“I think you just answered your question.”

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Apr 07, 2015
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