Casio poke you me

10
"Chicago"
Sufjan Stevens


With a little luck, the greatest song ever will soundtrack a moment of your life like a glove

It's like this: either you had a crush when this song came out, and the song very briefly became your entire world. Or you didn't, and you may have casually listened during the mid-decade Sufxplosion with or without particular interest.

If you are of the latter camp, then count yourself among the lucky: good songs should never be caught up in the unforgiving grasp of a fling, as you will never hear them the same afterward (word up Rob Fleming).

There will be a precious break-down into a vocal solo.

Sufjan was crying in a van! Poor Sufjan. At least his friend was there. The 3:00 bridge is produced like the tender third-act fulcrum of a Wes Anderson movie: the voice is warbly and repentant, the strings shimmer in the background like shy fairies, the choral background vocals pipe up and lift up the whole teary mass on a cloud. But if you shut your eyes and listen, you can pretend that neither the year, not its soundtrack, got put away some time ago. You're good, Suf: we made a lot of mistakes.

9
"School Spirit"

Kanye West

School must be hated on

Higher learning and pro music do not mix. Getting blazed and grinding out a killer beat tends to occupy the timespan concurrent with that last minute paper, or the sleep requisite to a successful exam. Or perhaps you were one of those people that got your work done early, leaving ample afternoon and weekend time to practice music. If so, I have nothing to say to you. You are probably an excellent jazz soloist.

I wonder how Kanye feels about Paul Simon's country banger "Kodachrome", which famously rolls in with the line "When I look back on all the crap I learned in high school, it's a wonder I can think at all." Lacunal genre disparities aside, I personally feel that School Spirit echo's Paul's sentiment nicely, while accounting for the inflationary educational benchmarks of the last three decades. I don't think a photographer could make it very far today without a high school diploma, however checking out of college to start an entrepreneurial effort, today, is a feasibly pimp equivalent to the prodigal 1970s dropout.

8
"The Rat"

The Walkmen

The beginning must blaze like a wall of fire

Or the whole thing, if you like. It was tricky, this decade, to turn everything to eleven and let the bile come up, without sounding pitifully like the worser parts of the last decade. Chris Cornell and his smarmy super-friends (among many others) demonstrated that angry music ages badly without a commensurate amount of self-deprecation and doubt. These important ingredients act as a sort of douche-repelling preservative. Without this, the doucheyness rapidly takes over the whole palate, drowning out the subtler bittersweet flavours (spleen, bloody spittle), and drying out the tongue.

Good thing Hamilton Leithauser apparently couldn't bear the sound of himself during the recording of Bows and Arrows. The narrator in The Rat alternates between browbeating a certain someone and mewling for pity, twisting his voice into hoarse kinks, seemingly tired of every self-righteous hat he wears. A laudable performance, sir. All that whiskey gargling should keep it fresh for some time.

7
"Bounce That"

Girl Talk

The greatest song ever will cause the reflexive raising of hands at least once during

The few DJ friends I have really dislike Girl Talk. Basically, they think that he is pedestrian. The impression I get is "yeah, I could spin those obvious mash ups, or I could hone my craft with brilliantly chosen and technically challenging cuts and crossfades." I've said something essentially similar regarding byzantine classical guitar pieces when someone asks me to play Hotel California. You see, I have no idea how to play Hotel California, yet I never get requests to play my once respectable rendition of Tàrrega's "Prelude". Oddly enough, the only sympathy I have is my own.

So here's to you, unsung local DJ's: people never crowd your decks with their sweaty naked torsos, but at least you have (lots of) room to dance to the beat of your own dubstep. I bet Paul Okenfold & Tiesto think you're way more fun than Greg Gillis.

6
"Over and Over"

Hot Chip

The greatest song will launch the greatest kitchen dance parties

Only the most experienced of house party hosts will do the right thing and put the PA next to the kitchen. Unless you are graced with hardwood floors, nothing else will let you slide in your socks quite like the sweet sweet linoleum of your average land-galley.

The trick for kitchen dance songs is having several tiers of dropped beats, vocal solos and instrumental freakouts with which to progressively force the listeners onto the lino. On this track, it could be the initial kick/clap of those wicked wicked limey drums (that's two drum voices; we are on track for earlier requirements), it could be the all-in thud of the zombie-voiced chorus, or the pre-break-down psychedelic whale-mating calls, or (if you have held out this far), it will definitely be the raunchy guitar freakout at 3:26 (oh, the times I have lost my shit at the raunchy guitar freak out at 3:26. I have inadvertently swiffered entire kitchen floors).

The greatest song ever will feature a spelling bee

Remember those? Weren't those supposed to be the meme of the aughties? Oh wait, spelling bees are incredibly boring. And we only got into them for that half year because we will watch anything on YouTube. Anyway, spelling words in songs is way more fun, because they are sort of like dirty cheerleader chants. I'm pretty sure The Go! Team succeeded to the extent that they did because a) we seldom saw pictures of them; and b) we hoped they were all dirty cheerleaders. In fact, they are mostly hairy English guys. But then again, so are Hot Chip. So, all together now:

K I S S I N G S E X I N G

C A S I O P O K E Y O U M E I

Veepgasms, candy bars, yeah.

15
"Hope there's Someone"
Antony & the Johnsons


The greatest song ever will not permit pausing or skipping

Should this song come up on your ipod and you don't want to/can't handle hearing it, you have approximately 10 seconds to do so. Otherwise it is flatly impossible. It would be like getting up and leaving a wedding, funeral or 50th anniversary. So be careful when you play it.

14
"Archangel"

Burial

The greatest song ever will cite the past and flip the script

Last one wasn't too precious? Ok, check this out: the greatest work a sample can do is to speak as a memory in a new and different context. Turns out Burial samples the minor R&B hit "One Wish" by one Ray J--a syrupy love parade probably best played whilst making a mini me . Pulled through Burial's autotune, cut to ribbons and tied around the stuttering two-step, the vocals are echos of some happier past, fuzzy and diffused through liquor and time. Bad breakup, sad black & white English coffee shop man? Memories of a fonder time seem to sting today: the smooth Ray J croons turn to ice over whatever cold lonely street Burial is walking down. Turn up that collar.

13
"Livin' your Life"

T.I. feat. Rihanna

Truisms must be sung like pearls of wisdom

Girl Talk and his kin will remind us to toss nods in the general direction of all the heads that gave us the great crunk moments of this decade: the "heeeeeeys", the "hoooooooos", the "ay yay yay yay yay yays". But Just Blaze and T.I. were the ones to distill those chestnuts (of questionable moral content) into a universally agreeable aphorism, bursting with glittery triumph. "Carpe diem" comes off as a surprisingly fresh idea when listening to this carousal (as does "T.I. thinks highly of himself"). Everyone is celebrating: Rhianna; T.I.; all the "heeeeeey" dudes in the background; the pillow-jowled Numa Numa kid on Youtube. Of course, it is to that precocious lad and a few Moldovans named O-Zone where credit is due. How could a sample from the decade's greatest viral video (besides Yule Burn) not translate into a chart topper?

Note to self: start writing power pop ballad "Eatin' your Greens", featuring music sampled from Keyboard Cat.

12
"The Commander Thinks Aloud"

The Long Winters

The refrain must contain an easily-sung affirmative monosyllable

The Grunge era owes a lot to the word "yeah": it's a generally agreeable sentiment; it can function as a stand-in for any number of complex concepts; it can be ported easily to other languages and it repeats well (among my honourable mentions is a band that has three of them in their name). The Long Winters employs liberal "yeah"-use in this song, to great effect. Mind you, technically theirs is more of a "yeeeeaaaaaiii". Some may hear this as pretentious or a sign of impaired motor functions, but I like to think that John Roderick has boiled the word down to a prehistoric war-cry: a wail/affirmation of feeling. "Life is like a crashing spaceship; important things seem more important if sung very slowly. Yeeeeaaaaaiii". Can you not help but concur?

11
"Ambulance"

TV on the Radio

At least one musical trope of yesteryear will be born anew

Cheerleader chants, angelic church choirs, barbershop quartets. What will we recycle next? Every time a musician repurposes an old trick instead of just tossing it away into a landfill, Al Gore gets a petit mort. Not only did TVOTR have the gall to bring back barbershop with balls: fuzzy, huggable Kyp Malone spends most of the whole album wailing away in an upper falsetto that would make most sopranos reflexively cover their groins. Playfully derivative, full of space and delicious, this music is the Coffee Crisp of indie rock.

What's old is new

Looking back on this polyphonic decade, it occurs to me that a balanced top-twenty song list should provide sufficient evidence with which to induce the necessary qualities of the greatest song ever.

This hypothesis depends on two suppositions, namely (1) that my choices aren't misjudged, wanky, or overly personal, and (2) that there is enough fragmented greatness suspended in the aughties' technicolour musical spew to warrant this sort of treasure hunt.

No matter. Commence blog gimmick!

20
"Fell in Love with a Girl"
White Stripes


The greatest song ever should sing to the hopelessly in love and the brokenhearted, in equal parts

Which is why the songwriter must NEVER refer to his love and/or partner in the present tense. It's got to be "FELL in love with", not "I'm IN love with", dear god, but Jack would never do that (or if he did, she would come home late at night with a bottle of rye having just murdered the milk man, etc.) Plus, announcements of love are best couched in bawdy pre/post/neo rockism, guitars ajangle. As such, you can sing along drunkenly either way, with tears of joy or endless sorrow leaking into your drink.

The greatest song ever needs a chorus refrain in wordless syllables.

Here, the Stripes favour "nah nah nah", which is an excellent choice (thank you John L), but there are lots of options, eg. "bah bah bah" (thank you Joey R)

19
"Weak Become Heroes"

The Streets

The greatest song ever should lyrically span at least five years of life

Preferably such that the narrator jolts out of a sodden stupor mid-song to discover that "five years went by, I'm older". Exactly. But that same piano loops over and over. Good thing that loop evokes miles of extinct brit house vinyl, trampled smooth and shiny by legions on e's. Like many parts of life, if it weren't so infectious, we might wish for it to stop.

Perhaps one of the few grimies to produce some truly memorable lines, The Streets put most of this them in this early track, slightly before Mike Skinner got rich and boring. Including one of my all time favourites: "Imagine the world's leaders on pills. And imagine the morning after!"

18
"Tunnels"

Arcade Fire

The greatest song ever must be a bildungsroman

See above. Five years is a minimum. It's no musical accident that they slathered Funeral all over the trailer for Where the Wild Things Are. The sell with that film was that it was going to tell the coming-of-age story like they do in this song: tunnels between bedroom windows, crying parents, eloping into the forest. What I once thought of as a twerpy immature warble from Win Butler is sounding awfully good five years later. Must be getting old and whimsical about being young. More on that below.

17
"Ms. Jackson"

Outkast

There will be no more than two drum voices

This was not a good decade for drummers. Shiva-armed Carter Beauford and his bromancer Dave Matthews got trampled by the rockists and The Neptunes around 2003. Notable mentions like Battles' John Stanier get props from several young men in their twenties, but they otherwise get relegated to the back of the stage and studio, well away from any rainbow-legging groupies. It's not really fair. There is a true exception in a man called ?uest, and truly I love him, however it bears mentioning that he is basically the ONLY hip hop drummer that has ever existed as far as most people are aware, and furthermore, he is able to mime a turntable deck while adjusting his headgear. Sometimes an artist's greatness is eclipsed by his awesomeness.

So Ms. Jackson has a kick and a snare, and the two hits repeat alternately again and again (forever ever?), and Outkast jump around them like football players doing that training thing with the tires. It's tireless, possibly timeless, and lo, they're saying really reasonable things about dealing with the responsibility of parenthood after divorce. AND they're talking about Eryka Badu, and--did you know?--the child in question is alive and well and his name is Seven. Which resonates with me particularly well, as that is my name transliterated into Thai. Which is why this song is the 17th best song of the decade.

16
"Losing my Edge"

LCD Soundsystem

There will be whinging about getting old

Which is a natural counterpoint to the coming-of-age requirement (I said at least five years). The trick is to do it in such a self-deprecating and youth-positive way as to not come off as stogy, and James Murphy nails it with "they're actually really nice". Fuck, exactly! I could hate so much easier if they didn't seem like better evolved versions of our younger social selves. The internet is apparently making the kids more annoying in writing, yet more congenial in person. Oh, to have their bionic minds.

I suppose adding a requirement about an amazing synth beat is too obvious, but have you heard the start of this song lately? Go ahead and play it, it's up there. This song made me wiggle in my seat a lot in around 2005, and it's still doing it. Still got the edge! Just can't stand up too fast anymore.

There will be shout outs

In moderation, in moderation. But, if the whinging old people are correct that all song prototypes have been written and now are only reproduced, then clearly the least we can do is drop more bibliographical references. Especially vintage references, like The Sonics, who Murphy shouts out three times. Way to show your age.

Hand in Unlovable Hand

	Mendoza Line - Catch A Collapsing Star
	Found at skreemr.com

5. The Mendoza Line - Catch a Collapsing Star

Brooklyn/Athens, Georgia indie rock group and one-time married couple The Mendoza Line released nine albums since 1997 to very little notice or acclaim, possibly because dumb and dancey trumped resigned and literary all decade. In 2007, the self-fulfilling prophecy that baseball fans will recognize in the band's name finally came true, as both the band and the marriage broke up. I'm not sure if "Collapsing Star"'s full-throated cry of "it's our limitations that make us what we are" endorses gracefully accepting defeat or just rages against the dying light, but I know the line just keeps ringing truer. The song recounts the ups and downs of a relationship that's doomed to fail, beginning with romantic vacations speaking "in riddles no one got" but knowing "it was always ever gonna end the same." But the song is just written in character, right? Maybe so, but when Shannon McArdle gorgeously sings "no one's sorrier than I am," you just can't help but believe her.

4. Geto Boys- G-Code

Warning: In this blurb be Wire spoilers.

Not to get too Omar Little up in this blog, but a man's gotta have a code. Scarface is secretly the greatest rapper of all time, with a voice that's somehow both booming and elegiac. In "G-Code" he explains his personal code, and incidentally makes my favorite rap song of the decade (not the best, mind you, just my favorite). It shouldn't be that surprising, considering Scarface and the Geto Boys made the best rap song of the last decade (again, not my favorite, but the best.) His code is all about hating snitches worse than Stringer Bell does, which for the record is morally questionable (The Mountain Goats' John Darnielle explains my feelings about this song better than I can, as usual). But as much as that pure floor banger of a chorus celebrates never talking to police, the verses lay out the toll the drug war has taken on ghetto communities with David Simonesque specificity. Besides, better alive and streetwise than headed to heaven hanging with 'Pac (and D'Angelo and Stringer and Bodie and Wallace, too).




3. Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley - Welcome to Jamrock

Ok, so we have here yet another ode to the problems of your hometown, but unlike those ones about Winnipeg and Tacoma and the Deep South (see above), you can dance to this one. You can also wildly gesticulate while making various truth-telling prophet poses when this song comes on, so it's versatile. Marley fils attacks the Jamaican education system, its lying politicians, and best of all the American tourists who "pose like dat man Chuck Norris". "Welcome to Jamrock" breaks hearts, wrecks dance-floors, and afflicts the wicked.

2. R. Kelly - Ignition (Remix)

R. Kelly had a decade filled with, for lack of a better word, superlatives. He made the best autotune song this decade, the best twelve part R&B opera that featured a midget and subtly preached acceptance of homosexuality this decade, and inspired the funniest Chappelle parody song this decade too. With the help of some very highly paid lawyers, he came up with the "you can insert all kinds of celebrities into sex tapes with Photoshop" defense, beating out even Dick Cheney turning the Vice-Presidency into a new branch of government as the most absurd yet successful legal argument of the decade (incidentally, the Slate article about the Kelly trial is definitely the most entertaining legal article I read this decade.) "Ignition" itself inspired my favorite piece of music criticism in yonks, John Darnielle's message board thread about the 100 Reasons Why "Ignition - Remix" Is So Damned Great. Read it, because it will probably explain why I love this song more accurately than I will.

The moral of the R. Kelly story is, if nothing else, this: if you're going to videotape yourself peeing on a fourteen-year-old girl, you had better make an absolutely fucking fantastic comeback song. "Ignition" floats by on a cotton candy melody and a lovely vocal, which go a long way in letting R. get away with some of the most clever and absurd lyrics ever committed to record. Kelly uses a form of simile so literal it's practically its own form of poetry ("there was food everywhere/ as if the party was catered" or, "the way you do the things you do/ reminds me of my Lexus Coupe". Why was there food everywhere? What exactly is the similarity between the girl and the car? Music poses more questions than answers, friends). Another mind-boggler is the line "It's like Murder She Wrote/ once I get you out them clothes". Is this a reference to Kelly's perverse desire to see Angela Lansbury naked? Or is it another way of saying "that's all she wrote"? Or is it a shout-out to Chaka Demus, whose soft dancehall sound is an undeniable inspiration for "Ignition"? I guess I just have to embrace the mystery like the Coen Brothers.

"Ignition" is an ode an endless Saturday night, using the joyful repetition of "bounce bounce bounce bounce" or the insouciance of "but so what I'm drunk" to recreate that universal experience. It's impossible to feel sad while listening to this song, which is more than I can say for my top choice.



1. Radiohead - Dystopian Rhapsody

Thom Yorke captured the prevailing tenor of the decade with this stirring eulogy that laceratingly criticized the British response to the 9/11 attacks ("beep boop beep/ my eyes looks weird/ Tony Blair/ has a stupid beard.") "Dystopian Rhapsody" is the lead single of the album In Snowjobs, which was sold with a revolutionary twist: Radiohead actually paid online listeners to download the albums. Millions took the Snowjob Challenge, expensively proving once and for all that in this internet age, people like free money. But when one voice captivates a generation's emotional response to millennial techno-dread with lines like "alienation mastication/ beep boop beep/ big sheep blows/ the little sheep" the response is understandable. The experience and emotions tied to listening to "Dystopian Rhapsody" are like witnessing the stillborn birth of a child while simultaneously having the opportunity to see her play in the afterlife on Imax. Was there a better song recorded this decade? In fact, there was one.




1. Tracy Jordan - Werewolf Bar Mitzvah

Over a Jazze Pha beat that can only be describes as, for lack of a more accurate word, banging, Tracy Jordan catalogues the sacrifices inherent in becoming a man while vividly describing a "rocking werewolf zoo at Temple Beth-Emmanuel." While working late on his haftorah, Tracy is interrupted by a wolfman describing the other clan he needs to join ("tomorrow you will stand at the bimah and pray/ but tonight let's gaze at the moon and bay.") "Werewolf Bar Mitzvah " includes a tribute to the simple joy of circumcision jokes, a meta nod at novelty song conventions ("I don't think the premise of this song can sustain itself for that long") and a shout-out to his manager Harvey Lemmings for teaching him "all these Jewish words." Who knew that the African-American star of such movies as Who Dat Ninja? or Black Cop White Cop would write the song that best captured the Jewish-American experience this decade? No song better described both the agony and the ecstasy of a boy becoming a man, and of a man becoming a wooooooolf. Mazel Tov.






1. The Mountain Goats - No Children

	The Mountain Goats - No Children
	Found at skreemr.com

Ok, enough with the self-parody. I've been lucky enough to have had a relationship that just about spanned this decade, with a sweet and surly blonde girl who doesn't like anything, and after a drawn out process of elimination, we arrived at "No Children" as Our Song (my original suggestion of "Got Your Money" was shouted down). It somehow works, maybe because songs (or relationships) that last can't be built on trite or goopy foundations. Of course, if you click on that link above, you will see we aren't the only ones who've formed a personal connection to the song - it's the one skinny indie song that everyone knows all the words to. From the War And Peace of first lines ("I hope that our few remaining friends give up on trying to save us") to the big cathartic bang of "and I hope I never get sober,", "No Children" celebrates the freeing power of disillusionment. It's a litany of hope - hope for terrible things to occur, sure, but nobody ever said that the audacity of hope was always positive. How can John Darnielle sound so gleeful while singing "I hope I lie/ and tell everyone you were a good wife"? This is the song that I most often forced my friends to listen to Clockwork Orange-style (the aforementioned "Trapped in the Closet" was definitely number two), an experience that one day they will appreciate, even if they haven't explicitly thanked me for it as of yet. The most hateful song of this decade was also its most joyful. Get out as early as you can, and don't have any kids yourself. And I'm out.

More trouble than Trouble Man

10. Drive-By Truckers - Outfit

Jason Isbell, the third songwriter on the Drive-By Truckers' loaded batting order, made the best Springsteen song of the decade with "Outfit". Written in the voice of his working-class house painter dad, the song intersperses details of the compromises that the father made for his family with advice for his musician son. The advice ranges from the sly ("don't worry about losing your accent/ a southern man tells better jokes") to the heartbreakingly quotidian ("call home on your sister's birthday") to the linguistic ("don't call what you're wearing an outfit"), from mockery of rock star pretension ("don't sing with a fake British accent") to words to live by ("don't act like your family's a joke"). But unlike all those other songs about the singers' parents and their hard knock lives, the songs doesn't sentimentalize blue collar life. The most resonant piece of advice of all is "Don't let me catch you in Kendale with a bucket of wealthy man's paint." An absolutely killer guitar solo drives the point home: always remember where you came from, but try like hell to escape it.

9. Dizzee Rascal - Fix Up Look Sharp

For all the critical blather about grime mid-decade, I always saw Dizzee Rascal's bombshell of a debut album Boy in Da Corner as just some good old-fashioned rap music, albeit with a completely new sound, accent, and set of slang. "Fix up look sharp" is only (only?) two and a half minutes of glorious braggadocio about fake MC's, "staying true to your grammar" (school?), and what will happen to those who dare to step to him. He even raps over the same bonkers Billy Squier break that Run-DMC used in 1985, though for some reason their version doesn't make me want to stomp around like Godzilla (I'm pretty sure I accidentally injured people when this song came on at the Marble Arch). The vocals do verge on incomprehensibility, leading to a thorough mangling of the lyrics by internet sites. Britishisms like "Flushing MCs down the loo" or slightly outdated references like "best to act like Forrest Gump, best to run," are challenging to the internet world, though "Fix Up" is responsible for my favorite misheard lyric of the decade. I was convinced avowed Kurt Cobain fan Dizzee was threatening that suckers would get "their head split like Nirvana", though of course he was just talking about banana splits. I suppose when a song has given you so much joy, it's churlish to complain about a lack of tasteless Kurt jokes.



8. Missy Elliott - Work It

Probably the hardest decision I had to make while writing this list was which Missy song to choose. "Get Ur Freak On" is Timbaland's finest work and a contender for beat of the decade, a sleek little marvel of modern sound engineering with a bhangra twist. But "Work It" is just so darn likable. Besides also boasting a killer faux-old school Timbo beat, it's the sound of Missy Elliott putting it all together and rapping her badonkadonkdonk off in the process, reinventing the art of onomatopoeia to coin (or popularize) various terms for various female body parts. Missy's not exactly the first female rapper to brag about her sexual prowess, but she is definitely the first to brag about using Belvedere goggles to get action. On this song, she is likable, witty, creative, and (dare I say it) sexy. I hope she marries me.



7. T.I. - Rubber Band Man

"But these folks looking at me like they don't know who I is!" Tell 'em, Tip. "Rubber Band Man" is the breakout single of rap's best new star, a charismatic yet introspective Georgian with a marvelous inflection-fused drawl of a voice. T.I. wedded classic hip-hop lyricism to the visceral Southern rap that dominated charts all decade, giving fresh perspective to classic rap tropes like selling drugs as a day job, internal battles with your own wilder and less mature alter ego, and regrets for a lifetime of doing wrong (I knew I'd find a way to sneak in multiple T.I. songs). On "Rubber Band Man", T.I. rides David Banner's triumphant production job, comparing himself to the Taliban (in 2004!), positing the rubber band as a potent symbol of the attempt to escape from poverty, but conceding his ambition is just "tryna staying alive/ living how I say in my rhymes." Aren't we all?

6. Johnny Cash - One

Yeah, yeah, I'm picking a fucking U2 song, and one that was already overplayed by open mic dudes fifteen years ago at that. Johnny Cash spent the last stage of a long and glorious career turning songs by acts I never really cared about (NIN, Depeche Mode, U2) into little miracles of pain and longing. At that point he could have probably recorded, say, Britney's "Toxic" and turned it into a sobering meditation on mortality and life's hard choices. I still have no idea what "One" is about, or why Bono cares whether I've come here to play Jesus to the lepers in my head. All I know is that if you click on that link above, Johnny Cash's cover will become your sixth favorite song of the decade too.

That's how it starts

15. Ludacris - Area Codes

I'm turning over analysis of No. 15 to the internet genius that created the map above.

"“I’m a female and a feminist. I dislike the usage of the word ‘ho’. However, as a geography major, I find this song hilarious, and had to map it,” says Stefanie Gray. “In this song, Ludacris brags about the area codes where he knows women, whom he refers to as ‘hoes’,” says Ms Gray, who plotted out all the area codes mentioned in this song on a map of the United States. She arrived at some interesting conclusions as to the locations of this rapper’s preferred female companionship:

* “Ludacris heavily favors the East Coast to the West, save for Seattle, San Francisco, Sacramento, and Las Vegas.”
* “Ludacris travels frequently along the Boswash corridor.”
* “There is a ‘ho belt‘ phenomenon nearly synonymous with the ‘Bible Belt’.”
* “Ludacris has hoes in the entire state of Maryland.”
* “Ludacris has a disproportionate ho-zone in rural Nebraska. He might favor white women as much as he does black women, or perhaps, girls who farm.”
* “Ludacris’s ideal ‘ho-highway’ would be I-95.”
* “Ludacris has hoes in the Midway and Wake Islands. Only scientists are allowed to inhabit the Midway Islands, and only military personnel may inhabit the Wake Islands. Draw your own conclusion.”

Anything else I need to say? The rapping is ferocious, the puns are abominable, and Nate Dogg's multi-syllabic singing of the word "hoes" nears divinity. I'm pretty sure this is the song I've sung to myself most frequently this decade.

14. Devin the Dude - Doobie Ashtray

Devin the Dude's specialty is songs about weed, pussy, and partying, distinguished by the knowledge that all parties do eventually end. "Doobie Ashtray" is the true prescient song of the recession, an acute analysis of rappers' spending habits ("You just went and copped the biggest car you could find /And a couple more just like it so your friends could follow behind"), and how they inevitably end with no gas, no girl, and a "yacht that won't sail or float". Most humiliatingly of all, he can't use the herb to forget about his problems, because someone took the roaches out of his ashtray. Over a gorgeous melancholy beat that might just be the last great one DJ Premier ever made, Devin makes the low points sound simultaneously like life's highest.



13. Neko Case - Thrice All American

As great as erstwhile Vancouverite and onetime Shindig! winner Neko Case's songwriting is, I like her covers even more. Hearing her turn overlooked classics by Bob Dylan, Tom Waits, or Cub into her own masterpieces make me wish she would record a version of the Great American Songbook, only with the great American (and Canadian) songs that never get covered. But my favorite Neko song is "Thrice All American," a people's history of the economically depressed mid-sized American city of Tacoma, where "the factories churn and the timber's all cut down." It's like watching Season 2 of the Wire in three minutes. The song ends with a goosebumps-inducing prayer for Tacoma to never be discovered.



12. LCD Soundsystem - All My Friends

Yup, it's that song that makes all the old ravers depressed (which considering our general lack of serotonin, is not a particularly difficult task). It's the inner monologue of that guy at the club who is just a little too old to be there, surrounded by kids who "look impossibly tan," and hates himself for it. James Murphy finally gets sincere, cataloguing the pros and cons of a lifetime spent on dusty dancefloors. It's like "My Way" with the capacity for self-examination. While the best song New Order never wrote keeps building and building and building, Murphy keeps thinking about all those people that aging turns into missing friends. Maybe you should call one of yours today.

11. Jay-Z - Izzo (H.O.V.A.)


There's been a million and one rap songs about celebrating personal success, but what separates Izzo from all the "went from negative to positive" songs out there is that it's about celebrating the exact moment when hip-hop achieved global domination. The ebullient Jackson 5 sample underlines the point: you no longer needed to make pop music to be the King of Pop. Jay walks the listener through Industry Rule #4080, crying vengeance in the name of record label victims The Cold Crush Brothers, and by doing so somehow makes us root for yet another rapper made good. It was that one shining moment when hip-hop seemed untouchable ("somehow, I beat those charges like Rocky"), universal ("that's the anthem, get yer damn hands up!"), and full of endless possibility, the moment when the world's biggest rappers were also its wittiest. What happened?

So Crazy Right Now

So, we each pick twenty songs released this decade (this decade will henceforth be known as "the decade" - I still can't believe that it's been ten years and nobody has figured out a name.) We are holding ourselves to a one song per artist maximum, to prevent Jedd from listing twenty Vampire Weekend songs (not that I should talk - if you want my all TI version of this list, just drop a note in the comments.) This list is not a list of the best songs, these are just our personal favorites. We cool? Here's 20-16. Let's get this popping.



20. Lil Mama - Lip Gloss

This decade in music was messy and glorious and (at least in my city) filled with mopey hipsters rediscovering the simple pleasures of getting wasted and hollering along with the monster pop song of the moment while a hairy stranger rubs up against you. Or something like that. Will Oldham made cameos in Kanye videos, Jay-Z showed up at Grizzly Bear shows, rockism was generally decried, and nerdy critic-types (like yours truly) learned to love the club banger. Music's pleasures became, for the lack of a less reductive word, simpler. Of course, some people probably spent the decade in a dark room listening to Bright Eyes and Radiohead and carving Dashboard Confessional lyrics into their arms, which I suppose is its own punishment. For the rest of us, there's a song by a teenage girl from Brooklyn who happens to be rocking a truly fantastic shade of lip gloss and wants to tell the world about it. The beat is just handclaps and footstomps arranged to sound like a drum machine preset. It's simple, banging, and effective, just like "Louie Louie." It's great to dance to, and almost as good to stand and holler along to. What else do you need?

19. Morrissey - First of the Gang to Die

Music's ur-mopey intellectual also decided to (marginally) lighten up this decade, writing what just might be the decade's finest gangsta rap song. "First of the Gang" is a bear hug to the Mozzer's adoring (and improbable) Chicano fanbase. But Morrissey never quite romanticizes or mythologizes the subculture he sings about, inverting tired Robin Hoodisms with "and he stole from the rich/ and the poor/ and the not-very-rich/ and the very poor." But he admits Hector stole our hearts away. That's important too.

18. Silver Jews - How Can I Love You If You Won't Lie Down

The Silver Jews' David Berman also had an interesting decade, emerging from bouts of drug addiction and mental illness to become a better Jew (!), write a fantastic essay about his teenage ecstasy use, and record a resonant country pisstake. The title's unanswerable question got at least a couple of my friends laid (which is all you can really ask for from music). Even if you have no use for beardo pickup lines, you can still take a moment to contemplate Berman koans like "Time is a game only children play well" or "fast cars, fine ass/ these things will pass/ and it won't get more profound." Definitely the most poignant rollicking fake country song of the last ten years.



17. The Weakerthans - One Great City!

A bittersweet tribute to Winnipeg, the city I was born in. I came back twice this decade, both times in the dead of winter, once for my grandparents' 60th anniversary, and the second time for my grandfather's funeral a few years later. My mother, like a lot of talented young Winnipeggers, fled West about as soon as she could. Downtown Winnipeg is filled with hollowed out storefronts and empty lots where thriving businesses used to be, but the local shows still fill the shitty bars even in minus-40 degree weather. The people are impossible to hate, but it is hard not to get depressed by the city. The song describes a few of life's routine humiliations, disses local heroes Burton Cummings and Dale Hawerchuck, and catalogues all the reasons to hate Winnipeg. I can usually hold out until the line about "watching the North End die" before I get misty.


16. Beyonce - Crazy In Love

The most ecstatic, triumphant, danceable, head-rushingly romantic song about having handles like brass-balled Lakers point guard Nick Van Exel ever. It's just a fucking awesome song, ok?

Listomania

It's important to remember that things that are hibernating aren't dead. They're just lazy. As with alpine mammals, so with us. It might snow on Friday, and you never know, there may be another snowjob around the corner.

We're thinking of making some lists of things we have put in our eyes and ears during the last decade. We would like you to hotly anticipate our choices, if you're not too busy.

Well anyway, I'm excited. A few predictions:

-Sym will list more R Kelly songs than some other lists. If his list features any skinny white indie rockers, it will likely be John Darnielle. Nonetheless he (hopefully) will favour us with some choice paraphrasing of Radiohead lyrics.

-I will get flustered over holes in my music library and pick a lot of skinny white indie rockers, likely b-sides, citing vaguely amusing personal anecdotes as sufficient cause for nomination.

-Christopher will cave, take two hours off studying, and come up with better choices and wittier write-ups than either of us.

Giddy up.