Kevin Devine
I've been asked to write a list of ten songs that mean something to me, so far as I understand the assignment.
It'll be a kind of random collection, not necessarily significant in a, "these are my favorite songs" sort of a way but more that they're rattling around for whatever reason right now. They'll be in no special order. On any given day they could be 10 totally different songs. - K.D.
- "Lithium," Nirvana: I love the 5th "yeah" of each chorus, the descending one that gives away his Beatles jones, the trump card that separates their band from all their peers. I like perfect songs, in whatever genre, and this qualifies. Alienation as celebration, rallying cry.
- "Cupid," Sam Cooke: Such a sweet and simple song. The otherworldly mysteries of love, the drama of unrequited yearning. You ask the gods for help because nothing else works. So beautifully sung, especially the vampy bits over the fade out.
- "Visions of Johanna," Bob Dylan: "The ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face." That's why.
- "County Line," Cass McCombs: A lot of his most recent record feels kind of impenetrable, baroque, something more to be admired than maybe enjoyed, but this song is a serious exception, might be my favorite song this year. Creeping, haunted, slow jam.
- "The 'Go' In The Go For It'," Grandaddy: Sumday is probably my favorite record of theirs. The sounds are more adventurous and the songs stronger and more realized than Sophtware Slump. In my mind, this is what pop songs sound like. My mind and Billboard don't tend to share that opinion.
- "Sick Of Myself," Matthew Sweet: Another perfect power pop song. Such a weird and particular-to-a-certain-subcultural-moment expression of love: "You're so perfect it makes me feel shitty about myself in comparison, and it's frustrating to me that you don't see it." You either relate to it or you don't. I do.
- "California English," Vampire Weekend: I totally get why people love AND hate this band; I was won over by the 2nd record and the simple joys of their intensely hummable, urbane pop music for a demographic that doesn't represent me, but I can recognize and enjoy regardless. The singer's a smarter lyricist than credited, as well, as exhibited by this song's bridge, a potentially embarrassing but ultimately winning analysis of a generation's mistaking brand consciousness for activism and even identity. Or maybe I'm listening too hard.
- "Famous Blue Raincoat," Leonard Cohen: "Jane came by with a lock of your hair, she said that you gave it to her that night when you tried to go clear." Typically affecting, mysterious, unlocks something elemental in you about love, fidelity, the spirit, what people are like…another run of the mill Leonard Cohen song, where you're left staring into the center of the universe.
"Long Gone Lonesome Blues," Hank Williams: I can't sing this song. I always try to sing along with it in my car and I can't fucking do that falsetto bit in the choruses. It's amazing. His voice is such a pure instrument; the sound of it almost says more than the actual words do.
"The Last Day Of Our Acquaintance," Sinead O'Connor: "This is the last day of our acquaintance; I will meet you later in somebody's office. I'll talk, but you won't listen to me - I know your answer already." It's that 2nd line that's the killer one to me. You see it. I see sweetnesses shared on a couch, watching movies, decay over time into cold silence in a divorce lawyer. Love, muted, warped. And her voice, strong, vulnerable, the embodiment of
