30 at 30 (1-15)

Have you ever conceived a project in your mind that you’ve draped in profundity only to realize, after much consternation, that the importance you attributed to it only serves to make it agonizing to complete?

For me, the 30 at 30 – a list of my 30 favourite songs to celebrate my 30th birthday – fits the bill.

Initially, I dived in with enthusiasm and much relish, thinking it would be a way for me to make a definitive statement about the music that represents who I am today; a soundtrack to three decades saturated with music. Unfortunately, I learned all too quickly that narrowing the list down to 30 songs that evoke something integral about myself and capture the music I love is not only tremendously difficult but inescapably precarious. After all, what if I choose a song that, two weeks from now I’d rather wish I hadn’t and ten years from now I’m embarrassed to justify including in the first place?

Such has been the burden on my mind over the last month as I’ve compiled, revised, revisited and reconstituted the list in myriad ways. Up until yesterday I couldn’t get the list down to anything less than 33 songs. Fortunately, this evening, I’ve conjured up the necessary ruthlessness and mustered the requisite courage to get over culling the last three songs from the list.

Here is, in iTunes alphabetical order, the first fifteen of my favourite 30 songs at the age of 30. (Note: no more than one song is permitted from a band/recording artist.)

1. …And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead – “Source Tags and Codes” (from Sources Tags and Codes, 2002)

A haunting and affecting song to bring to an end a haunting and affecting album. Sit back and indulge any thoughts you might have about leaving behind a place (physical, temporal, or psychological) you fear is no longer sustainable.

2. Andrew Bird – “Anonanimal” (from Noble Beast, 2009)

A cleverly written and well crafted song from an immensely talented musician. Listening to Andrew Bird makes me envious and appreciative of his under-appreciated genius. This song reminds me how intelligent and beautiful music can be.

3. The Beatles – “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” (from The Beatles, a.k.a. ‘The White Album‘, 1968)

George Harrison has always been my favourite Beatle and this song is, in my mind, George’s masterpiece.

4. Big Star – “September Gurls” (from Radio City, 1974)

The recently deceased Alex Chilton is widely praised for his seminal influence as the master of power-pop, and this song confirms the reputation like none other. If you’ve never heard Big Star, I can’t imagine a better place to start than here.

5. Blur – “Coffee and TV” (from 13, 1999)

To me this song encapsulates everything I love(d) about Blur, which might seem strange considering it was written and largely sung by guitarist Graham Coxon rather than the ubiquitous Damon Albarn. However, Coxon’s verses interspersed with Albarn’s choruses make it clear, at least for nearly six minutes, how special Blur could be when the two creative forces of the band worked in harmony. I never tire of hearing this song. “Sociability, it’s hard enough for me.” Indeed, Graham. Indeed.

6. Buzzcocks – “Ever Fallen In Love?” (from Love Bites, 1978)

There was once a time when punk rockers could write love songs that didn’t seem contrived and dramatized for effect. Pete Shelley was one of those punk rockers. This might be the quintessential Buzzcocks song and it forever reminds me that melodic punk rock and earnest feelings about love gone wrong can be done well when mixed together.

7. The Clash – “London Calling” (from London Calling, 1979)

My favourite track one, side one ever. Also, in my opinion, the best rock song ever recorded. From Topper’s opening drum beat to Paul Simonon’s captivating bass line into Joe Strummer’s emphatic declaration of imminent catastrophe, the opening 25 seconds of this song make me fall in love again with rock music, and punk rock in particular, every time I hear it.

8. Constantines – “Young Lions” (from Shine A Light, 2003)

No matter how disenchanted, disaffected, dejected,  discontented or disconnected I feel, this song always re-imbues a sense of self-belief and passion about making my own way in the world. Whether it’s to “Make your love too wild for words” or “Loosen the collar, shake off the wires”, I’m always inspired to want to.

9. Cursive – “The Great Decay” (from Burst and Bloom, 2001)

Do you ever take a look around, take stock of the world you see and loathe the deplorable state of it? This might be how you describe the process and this song might just capture, in part, what that feels like. Tim Kasher and Ted Stevens work themselves (and likely you) into a frenzy and then abruptly pull the chute, leaving you with an ominous organ outro. There is no cure for the social sickness, but at least there is comfort in being able to diagnose it, right? Right?!?!?!

10. Echo and the Bunnymen – “Do It Clean” (from Crocodiles, 1980)

If you only know Echo and the Bunnymen based on brief forays into their later work (e.g., Ocean Rain and songs like “The Killing Moon”) you may be excused for failing to appreciate how much these brooding Scousers could rock. “Do It Clean” is an irrepressibly toe-tapping, head-bobbing, post-punk gem.

11. Elliott Smith – “Bled White” (from XO, 1998)

Musically this is a much more upbeat Elliott Smith song, though lyrically it retains a characteristically rueful tone. That said, the song is surprisingly assured and optimistic, e.g., “I’m never going to become what you became” and “I may not seem quite right but I’m not fucked, not quite”. Even now, I take some comfort in knowing that, once upon a time, Elliott still had that fight in him.

12. Hüsker Dü – “Pink Turns to Blue” (from Zen Arcade, 1984)

Strange as it may seem, Minneapolis was the crucible for some of the most influential American punk/indie bands of the 1980s- and Hüsker Dü was the scene’s early standard-bearer . In fact, Hüsker Dü was so highly regarded in the American punk/indie scene that they were the first band from outside California to be signed by SST Records (Black Flag, Minutemen). When it comes to Hüsker Dü, there is a noticeable duality – there are Bob Mould songs and Grant Hart songs. (Incidentally, that duality manifested in the eventual disintegration of the band and Mould and Hart’s relationship.) Whereas Mould songs tended to be gruff and aggressive, Hart songs tended to be melodic and introspective.  Personally, I’ve always been into Hart’s songs more and this one is my all-time favourite.

13. The Jam – “That’s Entertainment” (from Sound Affects, 1980)

Although arguably not a quintessential Jam song, I think “That’s Entertainment” is the quintessential Paul Weller song. “That’s Entertainment” vividly exemplifies Weller’s ongoing reflections on working-class life in England and, in particular, emphatically (and ironically) refuses to be seduced by the tendency (especially at the time) to romanticize the depiction of its drudgery, difficulty and desolation.

14. Jawbreaker – “Do You Still Hate Me?” (from 24 Hour Revenge Therapy, 1994)

In my late teenage years, I couldn’t stop listening to Jawbreaker. In my late teenage years and well into my mid-20s, confused about love and longing for love lost as it frays away and dissolves, I couldn’t stop listening to this song. Now, as I turn 30, I look back on the journey from there to here and fondly remember how important this song will always be to me.

15. Jets to Brazil – “I Typed For Miles” (from Orange Rhyming Dictionary, 1998)

Quite simply the best song about breaking up with someone who means something to you. Ever. Self-doubt and loathing? Check (“I have been kissed between the ears by human error”). Life in disarray? Check (“Living in a hotel but I’m not traveling between two points”). Feeling bombarded by other peoples’ blissful love? Check (“They’re playing love songs on the radio tonight, I can’t relate to that right now”). Desperately searching for ways to write/talk yourself out of it? Check (“In worried piles I typed for miles and you just stood there”). Misguided hope for reconciliation? Check (“Leave me here to my devices, the call could come at any time”). Rueful rage directed at the person who broke your heart? You damn well better believe it (“They’re playing love songs on your radio tonight, I don’t get those songs on mine. You keep fucking up my life”). On that note, the best ending to a break up song you’ll ever hear.