"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.”

"SIGN 'O THE TIMES" PRINCE (1987)

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 my last rock block pick for Prince, I thought it would be appropriate to choose the one Prince song that has grown on me more over time. This is the one that I was least drawn to growing up. It was the one Prince single that I was too dismissive of because it was way too simple, way too minimal, not melodic enough. But the thing about “Sign ‘o the Times” is it’s actually full of hooks. It just happens to be more psychedelic and more blues than pop.

Over the years, “Sign ‘o the Times” has become more and more intriguing to me because it shifts in and out of different worlds. It goes from spoken word verses to a beautifully sung chorus. It traverses across funk, blues, electronic and minimal like a thief in the night. And it covers a gamut of socio-political ills, from AIDS, to gang violence to natural and manmade disasters. While it was truly a sign of its own times, it has held up remarkably well and is as relevant as ever today — both musically and thematically.

“You turn on the telly and every other story is tellin' you somebody died.”

"AMERICA" PRINCE (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.

With Prince running around on stage without his shirt or dressed in elaborate purple-colored wardrobe, it was often hard to take this artist seriously. But that would obviously be a huge mistake. Prince was a genius. Bested by no one else in music. Over the years, a very underrated aspect of his musical contributions were the depth of his lyrics, which often took a turn toward political commentary. The album Around the World in a Day seemed to cover a lot of ground, from teenage romance on “Raspberry Beret” to depression on “Pop Life”. But “America” is the one song on the album that has held up the best in my opinion.

Musically, “America” was quite unlike most of Prince’s catalog. It strung together a series of minor guitar chords and seemed to exist in a non-melodic universe. It wasn’t catchy or accessible, but it was mesmerizing. This was Prince’s personal critique and disillusionment with America, with topics ranging from nuclear war and communism to corporate greed and poverty. By releasing it as a single, Prince proved he was often more interested in making a statement than he was in making more money.

“America, America. God shed his grace on thee. America, America. Keep the children free.”

"LET'S GO CRAZY" PRINCE (1984)

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.

Half of the Purple Rain album invaded the radio airwaves in 1984 as Prince explored varying tempos, genres, instrumentation and lyrical themes. The title track, “When Doves Cry”, “I Would Die 4 U” and “Let’s Go Crazy” all felt like they righfully belonged on the same soundtrack, but each had their own distinct personality. And for the latter, you can make the argument that there were multiple personalities at play.

Potent, intense and epic. These are a few of the words that come to mind when I look back at one of my favorite Prince anthems of all time. The song is structured in three key movements: an introduction that’s written like a eulogy, a middle that runs at full throttle and an ending that’s nearly apocalyptic. It’s as if those first few bars on organ seem to reel you into a cathedral. Next, the Linn LM-1 drum machine and the first of two Prince guitar solos knock the pews over. Lastly, one more guitar solo burns the whole thing down.

“Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to get through this thing called life.”

"1999" PRINCE (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.

Prince is one of those artists that’s more impressive to me in retrospect. Looking back, it is simply mindblowing how much ground he covered musically. He ruled in so many different genres, from synth pop to funk to rock to R&B. And, in many cases, he was a pioneer, being the first to do many music firsts. “1999” is one such song, pushing the lyrical boundaries of pop and paving the way for the Minneapolis sound.

This was a song that I heard and viewed constantly on MTV. The video simply didn’t give it justice because it only reinforced the fact the musicians wanted to “party like it’s 1999”. But the impressive thing about this early hit was that it was a protest against nuclear proliferation. It was a politically charged piece, but people saw it as a party song. On the entire 1999 album, Prince played almost all of the instrumental tracks — and his synth work on the title track was especially impressive on two fronts. First, it sounded like nothing else out there. Second, it helped create a divergent synth pop path away from new wave and into a new genre that bared Prince’s hometown name: the Minneapolis sound.

“War is all around us. My mind says prepare to fight. So if I gotta die I'm gonna listen to my body tonight.”

"THE ROVER" LED ZEPPELIN (1975)

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.

There are so many things to respect about Led Zeppelin’s artistry and musicianship. But the one thing that was always the most appealing aspect to me is Jimmy Page’s seemingly infinite well of guitar lines. This is the strength of the album Physical Graffiti which, in my opinion, contains the greatest collection of guitar riffs in one album, including quite a few on “The Rover” alone.

“The Rover” is one of Zeppelin’s most underrated songs. It’s never mentioned in the same breath as “Kashmir”, “Immigrant Song” or “Black Dog”, but it’s not far behind that upper echelon of the Zeppelin catalog. There are four memorable riffs that define “The Rover”: the intro, the chorus, the bridge and the epilogue, making it one of Page’s single greatest masterpieces. Bonzo’s percussion attack was nothing to sneeze at either, not to mention a sound that seemed to inform and inspire the hard rock Aussie outfit AC/DC.

“And our time is flying, see the candle burning low. Is the new world rising, from the shambles of the old.”

"DANCING DAYS" LED ZEPPELIN (1973)

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.

Back in high school, a friend of mine and fellow track runner introduced me to Houses of the Holy. He told me it was better than all the other Zeppelin albums. Better than II, IV and Physical Graffiti. I approached the album with some trepidation. The album cover made me feel like if I gave in to it, I would perhaps be swayed into some kind of evil cult. But there’s nothing evil about Houses of the Holy. It really is one of the band’s strongest albums, and “Dancing Days” created a bright, euphoric middle for the album.

Houses of the Holy was bookended by two tour de forces: “The Song Remains the Same” and “The Ocean”. But right smack in the middle, “Dancing Days” — together with “D’yer Mak’er” — formed a bit of an odd anomaly. As the lesser known song of the duo, “Dancing Days” is that underappreciated, feel-good rocker where Zeppelin entered a rare moment of nostalgia, both thematically and musically. It proved that no matter what genre the band explored, Page’s muscular riffs would always find a way to drive the song forward.

“Crazy ways are evident by the way you wearin' your clothes. Sippin' booze is precedent as the evening starts to glow.”

"WHEN THE LEVEE BREAKS" LED ZEPPELIN (1971)

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.

The blues can bring you down. Rock can bring you up. That’s the wild dynamic at play throughout a good portion of Led Zeppelin’s storied catalog. Their songs take your soul in both directions. It can feel like your innards are being torn apart. But it can feel so good. Zeppelin is far more than hard, headbangin’ rock. It’s why they’re still one of my all-time favorite bands. Led Zeppelin IV was an epic recording with an epic ending: “When the Levee Breaks”.

Not as celebrated as the monster tracks on Side 1, “When the Levee Breaks” is largely remembered because it came out in an era of album oriented rock. Back in 1971, the majority of people listened to albums from beginning to end. In this format, “When the Levee Breaks” was a powerful, mind-numbing finale. It was one of the most bluesy songs ever recorded by the band, but it also brought immense power thanks to Bonzo’s thunderous beats and Page’s electric interpretation of the blues.

“When the levee breaks, I'll have no place to stay.”

"RAMBLE ON" LED ZEPPELIN (1969)

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.

By the time I reached the exciting, yet incredibly awkward ninth grade, I was knee deep into Led Zeppelin. Physical Graffiti, Led Zeppelin IV and Houses of the Holy were on heavy rotation on my Sony cassette player. No other band had figured out such a natural and powerful way of bringing together hard rock and blues as well as Zeppelin. I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time, I just really liked the music. Killer vocals. Killer riffs. Killer lyrics. It wasn’t unusual to be a Zeppelin fan in my high school. In fact, “Ramble On” went on to become our graduation song.

John Paul Jones has always been the least talked about and the least celebrated member of the band. But his bass line on “Ramble On” is truly iconic. Some even call it the best bass line ever written. It’s both melodic and rhythmic — and in a rare moment Jonesy steals the spotlight from Jimmy Page. The other irresistible thing about “Ramble On” is Robert Plant’s soulful cry. It just doesn’t get any more rock ‘n roll than those monster vocals in the chorus.

“Got no time for spreadin' roots. The time has come to be gone.”

"HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF" MUSE (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.

In the past 20 years, the 80’s have made quite the comeback. The decade’s sound was prominent in bands like The Killers, The Bravery and Franz Ferdinand. Then later, 80’s covers started going from nostalgic filler to new musical dimensions from some of most established artists around. Weezer’s “Africa” and Johnny Cash’s “Personal Jesus” come to mind. But Muse’s lesser-known rendition of Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf” also caught my attention recently on Spotify.

The original was utterly infectious and highly emblematic of the decade. It was all about those juicy instrumental elements. Nick Rhodes’ celestial syynthesizer swirls. Andy Taylor’s laser-sharp guitar riffs. John Taylor’s octave leaping bass lines. Rather than turn the song upside down, Muse took all the likable elements and simply turned them up a notch, giving each instrument a little more sonic edge. It’s predictable in the sense that this is Muse in its comfort zone, but the most unpredictable aspect of the track is the song selection itself.

“Darken the city, night is a wire. Steam in the subway, earth is afire.”

"THE 2ND LAW: ISOLATED SYSTEM" MUSE (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.

The natural pacing of a band’s music tells you a lot about their approach. It’s a lot like basketball where some teams prefer to push the ball up the court and play fast while other teams are better at slowing things down and playing in half-court sets. Muse is almost all run-and-gun. Their natural inclination is to go hard and fast, which makes a track like “The 2nd Law: Isolated System” a real test of their capabilities. This is where they downshifted without stepping on the brakes.

Together with its companion track, “The 2nd Law: Unsustainable”, this track helped wind down the album to a contemplative, other-worldly state. It’s more science, less fiction. It’s cinematic. And it’s the kind of track that can double as a film score because its vast, orchestral soundscape works in layers. Each of the layers are worth unpacking and enjoying on their own. Muse has always amazed me at the sheer amount of sonic bliss that they’re able to create from just three musicians — and “The 2nd Law: Isolated System” is no exception.

"UPRISING" MUSE (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.

The thing about Muse is that just about every song is instantly recognizable as a Muse track. The instrumentation is always ambitious, even on the poppier Black Holes and Revelations. The sounds are drenched in full distortion to the point where Bellamy’s guitar often sounds nothing like a guitar. And there’s something otherworldly about the music. In one track you feel like you’re being abducted by aliens. On another you feel like you’re leading a revolution against evil. Which is exactly what I feel every time I hear “Uprising”.

I’ve yet to see Muse live, and it’s songs like “Uprising” that make me rightfully feel like I’ve missed out completely. This song was meant to be played hard, loud and live. It rips your guts out and rebuilds your innards even stronger. It blows your mind and then reprograms you to be ready for the revolution - at least in your head. It’s not just a hard rock song with a sci-fi edge. It’s a transporter for your soul. And you can’t ask for more from music.

“They will not force us. They will stop degrading us. They will not control us. We will be victorious.”

"STOCKHOLM SYNDROME" MUSE (2004)

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.

I first discovered Muse on a car ride. My in-laws asked me if I heard the band Muse and then proceeded to play what I think might’ve been Black Holes and Revelations. I wasn’t hooked immediately, but I was intrigued enough because I had heard nothing like them before. Muse is a genre masher. They’re not metal, but they use heavy distortion and emphatic beats as well as anyone out there. They’re not classical, but classical structures and styles from Chopin to Rachmaninov are imprinted all over their music. And they’re definitely not punk, but many of their songs are anti-establishment at their core. “Stockholm Syndrome” is one of them.

“Stockholm Syndrome” lifts you up and then shoves you down. Every single note and word seemingly unleashes a fit. You might just be casually listening to the music when you feel the slightest bit of insanity taking over. Interestingly, the song personifies the abuser in a Stockholm Syndrome scenario, not the victim. Like the abuser, the music feels like it’s trying to sway you. Convince you. “Stockholm Syndrome” wants you to keep on listening and never leave its side.

“And we'll love, and we'll hate and we'll die. All to no avail.”

"A RUSH AND A PUSH AND THE LAND IS OURS" THE SMITHS (1987)

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.

Strangeways, Here We Come is an album that has grown on me over time. It has gotten better with time. Strangeways didn’t feature the vintage Smiths sound, but instead it expanded and explored more than the other three albums combined. Interestingly, it also gave us a glimpse into some of the sounds that Morrissey would later lean on in his solo career. It all started with their unusual opening track from the band.

The Smiths were often either morose or mopey, but “A Rush and a Push and the Land is Ours” was almost menacing. And it was a sign of a band that was doing a little pushing of its own into new musical territories. For a band that was driven largely by Marr’s jangle-pop infused guitar riffs, this song stuck out like a sore thumb. There wasn’t a guitar to be found on the entire track, instead Marr went with a keyboard sound that created a circus-like environment. Then there was Morrissey, singing, humming and even growling his way through the song, demonstrating incredible versatility on lead vocals.

“A rush and a push and the land. That we stand on is ours. It has been before so it shall be again.”

"THE BOY WITH THE THORN IN HIS SIDE" THE SMITHS (1986)

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.

I still remember the day I picked up The Queen is Dead from Tower Records in Manhattan's Upper Westside. My family had a day trip in the city and I wisely convinced my parents to stop off at the then mecca of recorded music before heading back. I remember pressing play and knowing right away that the album deserved all the hype and acclaim that it got. It’s rightfully considered one of the greatest albums of all time, and it’s certainly the greatest Smiths record in my mind. I also believe that Side B was the greatest Side B of the 80’s — and “The Boy With the Thorn in His Side” is a big part of it.

Morrissey has stated that it’s his favorite Smiths song. It’s probably one of my favorites too because it was personal. I think Morrissey’s greatest lyrics are either about him or about The Smiths. In this case, the thorn is the music industry. And the boy is representative of Morrissey and the band. This was a song about an industry that wouldn’t and couldn’t accept The Smiths and just believe in them. The irony is that the song and the entire The Queen is Dead album went on to achieve critical acclaim. “The Boy With the Thorn in His Side” proved the naysayers wrong.

“And if they don't believe us now, will they ever believe us?”

"BARBARISM BEGINS AT HOME" THE SMITHS (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.

There are more natural choices when it comes to choosing a song off of The Smiths second studio release Meat is Murder. On the U.S. version, “How Soon is Now?” forever remains a monumental achievement in alt rock history. The melodramatic “That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore” is, in many ways, the quintessential Smiths anthem. And “The Headmaster Ritual” is is one of Morrissey’s biggest and most beautiful poetic statements. But I deliberately picked “Barbarism Begins at Home” because it seems like the antithesis of The Smiths’ aesthetic.

When I play it, the first band I think of is Duran Duran, a band that could not be more different from The Smiths. “Barbarism Begins at Home” showed us that these boys were willing to step far beyond their comfort zone and, dare we say, have a little fun in the process. Play it along with Duran Duran’s “Girls on Film” and the similarities are noticeable and downright eerie. Andy Rourke’s bass line sounds just like John Taylor. Joyce is in lock step with Roger Taylor. Marr mirrors Andy Taylor. And while Morrissey may not sound like Simon Le Bon, the melody that he totes around certainly feels like something Le Bon would’ve sung in all his new wave splendor.

“A crack on the head is what you get for asking.”

"REEL AROUND THE FOUNTAIN" THE SMITHS (1984)

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.

The juxtaposition of Morrissey and Johnny Marr made for one of the most unique unions in music. On paper, it didn’t make sense. Mopey vocals and lyrics. Jangly guitar riffs. But upon hearing it, there’s no denying that together they’re far greater than the sum of their parts. Sadly I never got to see The Smiths live, given the fact that they disbanded two years before I first heard “This Charming Man”. From the same debut album, “Reel Around the Fountain” was often overshadowed by the aforementioned classic as well as other Smiths staples over the years. But I’ve come to enjoy it with a newfound sense of appreciation.

“Reel Around the Fountain” isn’t Morrissey’s best work. Nor is it Marr’s best. But the two came together almost in lock step here. In many Smiths songs, Morrissey and Marr often seem at odds with each other, which creates that beautiful tension that is so irresistible. But on this opening track, they seemed more in sync than on any other track on their debut album - or on any of their remaining albums, for that matter. It seemed that, for one brief moment in time, these two extremely talented music artists were on the same wavelength.

“I dreamt about you last night and I fell out of bed twice.”