"RABBIT HEART (RAISE IT UP)" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2009)

I generally gravitate to the music first before the lyrics. But as a writer, I still marvel at well-spun verses and choruses. This month, I’m joining the music Twitter community in #SeptSongLyricChallenge

Day 8

The vocal performance, tempo shifts and slippery meanderings of the harp make “Rabbit Heart” one of my all-time favorite Florence anthems. Florence stormed onto the scene in a hurry with one of the best debut albums in years. “Rabbit Heart” was one of many tracks that made Lungs the amazing album it is, but it was the one song that gave us a peek into Florence’s mindset amidst the band’s newfound success. The words are equally imaginative and personal.

“This is a gift. It comes with a price. Who is the lamb and who is the knife? Midas is king and he holds me so tight. And turns me to gold in the sunlight.”

"SISYPHUS" ANDREW BIRD (2019)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

While My Finest Work Yet, as an album title, supposedly started as an inside joke, it wouldn’t be far fetched to suggest it’s Bird’s best. But more impressively, is the fact that he continues to write, record and perform at such a dizzying pace — without showing any signs of slowing down or losing his touch. The wondrous thing about “Sisyphus” is that, twelve albums in, it feels like the quintessential Andrew Bird song.

This was one of the new songs that I had the privilege of hearing live before the pandemic began. In Greek mythology, the figure Sisyphus cheated death twice, but was ultimately sentenced to eternal punishment by Zeus. His sentence: to roll a boulder up a hill in Hades for eternity. In some ways it feels like Andrew Bird has cheated a professional death. Every album has been strong from beginning to end with no lemons. Instead of rolling the boulder up the hill, Bird just keeps rolling along.

“Did he raise both fists and say, ‘To hell with this,’ and just let the rock roll?”

"TRUTH LIES LOW" ANDREW BIRD (2016)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

Andrew Bird’s music primarily resides in an acoustic world filled with strings, guitars, vocals and his trademark whistle. It’s a world that I escape to often. Lyrically, Bird’s songwriting had been cryptic by default for many years, but by the time Are You Serious came out, Bird got married and his lyrics became more personal. “Truth Lies Low” reflected this significant shift as well as a departure from his natural musical tendencies.

I’ve seen Bird play “Truth Lies Low” twice — once at Brooklyn Steel, once at Terminal 5. The one thing that was clear from both performances is that the song established a different vibe each time, ushering the audience into a different musical realm. The song starts out sounding more like Toro y Moi than Andrew Bird. It has these gorgeous, moody, muted synthesizer sounds and are later joined by a set of sparse guitar riffs. It’s not the typical formula for Bird, but it has become one of my favorite tracks from his last five years.

“So here's another game you can play along where you empty all your blame from your guilty bones.”

"LUSITANIA" ANDREW BIRD (2012)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

Break it Yourself is one of those albums that I can listen to over and over again. In fact, there have been times when I simply lost track of time and didn’t realize that I was listening to it on repeat. After long, busy, stressful weeks, it’s an album that I can get lost in and find some reprieve. And that’s especially the case with a slow-paced and unassuming track that helps bring up the rear, “Lusitania”.

One of Bird’s finest and most distinct whistling intros kicks off slow and dreamy. The song meanders into the night. Close your eyes and you might just see a ship slowly sinking on a moonlit ocean. But in this case, the Lusitania isn’t a boat, it’s your soul. And even while it sinks, the song seems to lift you up every single time.

“If you loosen liable lips, you keep sinking all my ships.”

"TENUOUSNESS" ANDREW BIRD (2009)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

For me, Andrew Bird is one of those artists who has never put out a bad album. It seems like he’s comfortably in his own element every single time — even as he explores new instruments and influences album by album. He never goes too far beyond his own natural musical inclinations. Noble Beast is still considered one of his banner LPs, and more than 10 years later he still plays “Tenuousness” pretty regularly on his set lists.

Listening back to “Tenuousness” I’m reminded that Bird has made a living doing things that are slightly off center. His melodies land offbeat. He uses whistling and humming, not as vocal interludes, but as instrumental accompaniment. And for his primary riffs, he replaces the guitar with pizzicato plucking on violin. There have been imitations over the years, but to this day there’s still no one else like Andrew Bird.

“Here's where things start getting weird.”

"SHIP TO WRECK" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2015)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

After Ceremonials, four years passed without another Florence album. So when How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful made its way into the world, there were enormous expectations. And in my mind, the album overdelivered. It was not only better than Ceremonials, it was wiser. More mature. It was still distinctly Florence, but there was an evolution of her sound and approach without any doubt. And “Ship to Wreck” showed that she was becoming increasingly open to singing about her personal demons.

It’s a perfect opening track in many ways. We had waited so long for this, so on “Ship to Wreck” Florence wasted no time and got right to it. It starts off at full speed, barreling through to an opening verse about how we sometimes end up destroying the things we love the most. The irony of it all is that this song about self-destructive behavior is very much a vessel that Florence used to build up her influence in the music world.

“My love remind me, what was it that I said? I can't help but pull the earth around me to make my bed. And, my love remind me, what was it that I did?”

"NO LIGHT, NO LIGHT" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2011)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

Rock is rough. Rock is personal. Rock is emotional. “No Light, No Light” exhibits all of these things. There’s nothing delicate about it. In it Florence hits on themes that seem so core to the human condition, yet it’s a little surprising that no other artist has been able to articulate it as clearly and poignantly as her.

While Ceremonials isn’t one of my favorite Florence albums, it contains at least four or five of my favorite songs from the artist. What’s particularly impressive about “No Light, No Light” is the level of versatility and creativity from a then relatively young artist. One moment, she’s unleashing angst-ridden wailing, the next moment she’s barely whispering to us. Florence and music partner Isabella Summers concocted a melody and words that are easy to ingest. At a Florence show you’ll belt every single word, and then the very next day you’ll find that they’re all still there inside your head.

“It's so easy to sing it to a crowd. But it's so hard, my love, to say it to you, all alone.”

"COSMIC LOVE" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2009)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

Some music acts take a couple of albums to get going. Some start strong, but fizzle out just as quickly. Then there are a select few that begin with an overly impressive debut and only keep getting better. Florence + the Machine is one of the few acts that have been able to accomplish this impressive feat. Lungs isn’t just a superb debut album, it’s one of the greatest albums of the 2000s period. And “Cosmic Love” is arguably the best track on the LP.

Florence was one of the first acts to pioneer the use of the harp in indie rock — and “Cosmic Love” is a shining example. The harp ended up being the perfect instrumental choice. They’re like treble notes from the heavens. There’s a swagger and confidence in Florence’s vocals in this song — and throughout Lungs — that’s almost unfathomable for a debut recording. But as my #RockBlock series on Florence continues, we're reminded this is only the beginning.

“I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map, and knew that somehow I could find my way back.”

"LOVE AND ANGER" KATE BUSH (1989)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

From my middle to high school years, I was fortunate to catch the end reaches of WDRE’s radio waves soaring across Long Island Sound. WDRE was my gateway to great music beyond the obvious artists. Where I grew up, it was easy to play Billy Joel, Zeppelin, the Dead, GnR and U2 to death. But no one was pointing me to Kate Bush. No one except my British cousin and WDRE. There was a four-year studio absence between Hounds of Love and The Sensual World, but when “Love and Anger” hit the airwaves, it was like Kate Bush made up for all that lost time overnight.

Bush has stuck with many of the same recording musicians over the years. Such was the case with “Love and Anger” where Bush enlisted David Gilmour to play guitar. Gilmour noticed her talent early on before she signed with a record company. He ended up paying for a few of her demos. And he has also let his producer mind and guitar playing abilities on various Kate Bush recordings over the years. In “Love and Anger”, we hear Gilmour’s distinct soaring riffs combined with the maturation of Kate Bush’s voice from less whimsical to more wise.

“Looking for a moment that'll never happen. Living in the gap between past and future.”

"THE BIG SKY" KATE BUSH (1985)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

Hounds of Love contains some of my favorite songs of all time. Collectively they represented a vibrant evolution of Kate Bush’s music. It had many parallels to So, the album from her longtime collaborator Peter Gabriel that came out the very same year. What Hounds of Love — and “The Big Sky” in particular — did was beat her peers at their own game. She made pop better and more progressive.

“The Big Sky” is vast, grand and full, riding on the back of that relentless bass slap. It rocked a lot more than much of Kate’s previous catalog, but the vocals and the epic instrumental arrangements were still a nod to her musical past. “The Big Sky” is simultaneously a great introduction to the world of Kate Bush and a great example of her musical versatility.

“They look down at the ground. Missing but I never go in now. I'm looking at the big sky.”

"SUSPENDED IN GAFFA" KATE BUSH (1982)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

Listening to a Kate Bush track feels less like pressing ‘play’ and more like pulling a book off a shelf and diving in. Her songs are stories put to music. Like an exquisitely crafted musical. In 1982, the music world was enamored with synthesizers. But with “Suspended in Gaffa”, Bush went in a completely different and unexpected direction than her peers.

She chose the mandolin and synclavier instead of synths. Opted for stick hits instead of snare hits. And crafted a story about someone catching a glimpse of God. The melody makes the vocals a musical feat as there are barely moments for Bush to breathe in between certain lines. “Suspended in Gaffa”, in many ways, is a divine encounter — from its gripping storytelling to its musical ingenuity.

“I won't open boxes that I am told not to. I'm not a Pandora.”

"ARMY DREAMERS" KATE BUSH (1980)

Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.

To enter Kate Bush’s world is to have one foot stepping back into history and one foot firmly planted in the future. It’s the way she straddles the role of historian and pioneer that makes her so unique and respected in music circles. The fact that she was commercially successful in England with several hit singles tells you how much more sophisticated fans and critics are on the other side of the pond. Because these songs, including “Army Dreamers”, are not exactly the most accessible things for your ears.

Listening back to “Army Dreamers”, I’m struck by the fact that there is nothing contrived about this music. Nothing else sounds like it. Kate Bush didn’t merely write music lyrics, she wrote a post-war epic. She didn’t merely record a rock song, she composed a musical masterpiece. She showed us another way beyond synths and electric guitars, making magic out of mandolins and bodhrans.

“The weather warmer, he is colder. Four men in uniform to carry home my little soldier.”

"VIDEO GAMES" LANA DEL REY (2012)

“Video Games” is one of the more unusual pop songs of the era. But it’s also one of the most defining tracks of our time as well. While everything else went electronic, Lana Del Rey went with string arrangements. They went ecstatic, she went melancholic. Her vocals brought us back to another era. Her lyrics brought us into a vulnerable, awkward picture of a one-sided relationship. It’s these tensions within “Video Games” that make me listen to it over and over again.

“Open up a beer and you say, ‘Get over here and play a video game’.”

"YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL" LANA DEL REY (2013)

Is this another case of the soundtrack outshining the movie? Tabbing Lana Del Rey to write and sing this song for “The Great Gatsby” just made total sense. Lana’s voice feels like it belongs in the roaring twenties. And she sang it like she could’ve been Daisy Buchanan herself. Except Lana escapes West Egg and shoves the narrative into a 21st century dystopian L.A. An unexpected interpretation of the film’s storyline. That’s the mark of a great soundtrack song.

“Dear Lord, when I get to heaven please let me bring my man. When he comes tell me that you'll let him in. Father, tell me if you can.”

"HUNGER" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2018)

Still rocking. Still doing it her way. But “Hunger” feels like a milestone. A checkpoint in Florence’s evolution as an artist. This is still distinctly Florence. Symbolic lyrics leave you deciding to interpret the song literally or figuratively. And you wouldn’t be wrong either way. But now here’s a Florence that pits downward despair with upbeat musicality. Reminds me of that little trick Morrissey has made a career out of.

“Oh, you and all your vibrant youth. How could anything bad ever happen to you? You make a fool of death with your beauty, and for a moment I forget to worry.”