"WHITE WINTER HYMNAL" FLEET FOXES

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

By no means is Fleet Foxes on the same level as CSN&Y. CSN&Y are music legends, the kind that maybe come around once every 20 years or so if we’re lucky. But Fleet Foxes isn’t that far behind. What Fleet Foxes have done in today’s musical climate is impressive. They put power harmonies center stage once again. And they did it with a folk-inspired sound that’s earthy and natural, a far cry from post-punk, dream pop or any of the key genres of their contemporaries. And, in the spirit of Christmas, I have to go with “White Winter Hymnal” as my go-to Fleet Foxes track.

Like many Fleet Foxes songs, “White Winter Hymnal” feels like a cascade of echoing melodies from the mountains. The song is sung in rounds, a traditional form of singing that seemed to be given a new lease on life through the ban'd’s trademark harmonies where each vocal part comes in round after round. This approach has a way of sweeping me up and away, regardless of circumstance. And the words overdelivered. They felt more like classic literature than song lyrics, leading me to believe the character Michael was an allegory for something far greater.

“I was following the pack. All swallowed in their coats with scarves of red tied 'round their throats.”

"THIS FIRE" FRANZ FERDINAND (2004)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

When Franz Ferdinand’s debut album came out, it seemed like the full force of post-punk revival was coming down hard. 2004, in particular, was a year of influential albums from that genre, including Interpol’s Antics, The Killers’ Hot Fuss, The Strokes’ Reptilia and, of course, the self-titled debut album from Franz Ferdinand. That’s some pretty impressive company, yet Franz Ferdinand not only stayed on par, some would say they were the ones with the post-punk revival album of the year. The album was stacked with plenty of strong tracks, including “This Fire”.

I think “Take Me Out” will forever be the magnum opus for the band. That song is hard to surpass in every way. But right there behind it is “This Fire”, a song that was overlooked on the charts, but revered by indie rock fans. The heart of the song is Nick McCarthy’s guitar chords frenetically creeping upward. The soul is the chorus rant where the entire band joins in. While their Glasgow counterparts Belle & Sebastian wrote songs that were perfect for lounging in bed, Franz Ferdinand shoved us out of bed and never failed to get a party started.

“Eyes burning the way through me. Overwhelm, destroying so sweetly. Now there is a fire within me.”

"ALWAYS A RELIEF" THE RADIO DEPT. (2006)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

When I was first introduced to The Radio Dept., I realized that all the other music that I was listening to at the time was characterized by bold, brash guitar riffs and hard edges. Most of it probably had some association with post-punk revival. So when I first heard the Lesser Matters and Pet Grief albums, it felt like a soft landing into a new world. Less mind-numbing than the shoegaze pioneers, The Radio Dept.’s brand of dream pop seemed perfect for lazy music discovery days or the kind of thing you’d put on in the background for ordinary days. I could’ve picked any song off of Pet Grief to highlight, but I’ll go with the exceptional closing track “Always a Relief”.

The tones on the opening drum sequence are a warm welcome, feeling reminiscent of the opening drumbeat in Joy Division’s “Disorder”. “Always a Relief” then slips into its gorgeous minor guitar chords, with. progressions that are almost as resistant to movement as one might be lying in bed on a rainy day. Like many Radio Dept. songs, the lyrics aren’t extensive, and the instrumentation isn’t exactly the most versatile display of the band’s abilities. “Always a Relief” is like a mood piece. A perfect ending to an album full of similarly dreamy moments.

“It feels like our time has gone to waste.”

"TRYING YOUR LUCK" THE STROKES (2001)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

I discovered Is This It and the garage rock-drenched world of The Strokes on I-80 East, the freeway that connects S.F. to Lake Tahoe. I was in my high school buddy’s beat-up car with our ski gear on top and the tunes blasting from all sides of the rickety car. We talked about life, listened to old favorite bands of ours, and also relished some of favorite new ones, including The Strokes. Is This It was a tight, consistent album with many renowned post-punk revival anthems vying for our attention, including the title track, “Someday”, “Hard to Explain” and, of course, “Last Nite”. But one of the more underrated tracks on the album is the second to last song: “Trying Your Luck”.

I’ll take “Trying Your Luck” over any of the aforementioned classics any day. It was perfect mid-tempo malaise, perhaps the saddest, slowest song on the album. But it was genius in that The Strokes didn’t compromise their trademark sound in recording a song that some would say is extremely counterintuitive for the band. It still peaked and rocked. Casablancas’s distortion-soaked vocals go from somber to tortured as he launches headlong into the chorus, which is a perfect handoff for the song’s signature rhythm guitar riff and the iconic bass line. After all these years, “Trying Your Luck” is the one Is This It track that I look back at most fondly.

“I know this is surreal, but I'll try my luck with you. This life is on my side.”

"NANTES" BEIRUT (2007)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

One of my deep regrets as a music fan is not having discovered the unique world of Beirut sooner. Many artists have made a name for themselves crossing genres, but Beirut has surpassed that claim by crossing generations. The music of Zach Condon seems to live in two different worlds: old world influences with new world interpretations. The Flying Club Cup album is said to have been inspired by a photograph of a hot air balloon festival in Paris during the early 1900’s. It’s these types of references that make each Beirut song feel like a postcard from an earlier era — a greeting from another time and place. Each song on the album represents a different French city, and “Nantes” is one of my favorites.

An accordion. French horns. Euphoniums. And a string arrangement by Arcade Fire’s Owen Pallett. These are the instruments that paint the picture of the coastal city of Nantes. It’s Beirut’s magnum opus from The Flying Club Cup album. The song brings us back more than a century. The accordion lures me through the streets of Nantes, while the horns beckon me to the port. “Nantes” is a reminder that music can transport us to another era. It can introduce us to new places. And, on occasion, it can be unexpectedly romantic.

“I'll gamble away my fright. And I'll gamble away my time.”

"THE WAY WE GET BY" SPOON (2002)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

Growing up, I was fortunate to have the opportunity to take piano lessons. Looking back, I realize it was one of the inroads that led to my deep passion for music. The way those keys could be played together to make beautiful sounding things, it was therapeutic. I played celebrated composers like Bach and Brahms and did piano renditions of movie soundtracks like Rocky and E.T. But I think I would’ve stuck with piano longer and enjoyed it more had I been given the opportunity to play it like Spoon does on “The Way We Get By”.

The unusual sound of Spoon is characterized by an inversion of the standard rock formula of guitar as lead and piano or keys as secondary. Spoon has carved out a prolific and incredibly consistent catalog over the years with the piano at the forefront, sometimes with guitar as a rhythm instrument or, in some cases, no guitar at all. With “The Way We Get By”, they string together these piano chords and hand claps to create something that feels like it could’ve been written in the 1950’s. I have a handful of favorite Spoon tracks, and this one’s near the top of my list.

“We found a new kind of dance in a magazine. Tried it out, it's like nothing you ever seen.”

"NO ONE'S GONNA LOVE YOU" BAND OF HORSES (2007)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

In my senior year of high school, there was a place that I ran off to a handful of times with classmates of mine. It was called Rockwood Park, a scenic state park that was always closed well before the hour we sneaked in. We’d park off to the side of the road, late at night and scurry through a trail with beer and whisky in backpacks. Our destination was a clearing, a big meadow that overlooked the Hudson River. The reflection of the moon on the water was magical. It was like a sepia-tone photograph for us to remember these years before we all went our separate ways to college. The Cease to Begin album cover — and the aura of Band of Horses — remind me of those nights, particularly the song “No One’s Gonna Love You”.

The instrumentation, pacing and melody force a reflective mood on me every time I hear this track. It doesn’t matter how distracted or busy I may be, “No One’s Gonna Love You” slows me down and commands my attention. Ben Bridwell’s tenor vocals have this way of soaring through the air, creating room for the guitars to establish the mood underneath. One guitar riff runs steadily and insistently, while the other delicately trickles upwards and downwards. Like much of the Band of Horses catalog, the strength of “No One’s Gonna Love You” is the atmosphere it creates for the listener.

“We're reeling through an endless fall. We are the ever-living ghost of what once was.”

"OVER MY HEAD (CABLE CAR)" THE FRAY (2005)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

As long as I can remember, pop charts in the U.K. and U.S. have told very different stories. The U.K. is the poster child for openness to alternative and experimental approaches in popular culture, while the U.S. is more of a story of vanilla musical expressions. Sure, there are exceptions, but overall there’s a very wide gap in terms of what makes the pop charts in the U.K. compared to the U.S. One of the rare exceptions has been the popular embrace of The Fray, who became universally embraced on both sides of the pond for “How to Save a Life” and the subject of this post, “Over My Head (Cable Car)”.

You might like the song for different reasons than me. But what the track did for me was provide this rare balance of highly accessible and somewhat unpredictable. It starts off easy and catchy, relying on that simple, great melody and lyrics that are equally simple, making it a song you want to sing along to. The unpredictability happens in tempo slowdowns and upticks and gorgeous instrumental interludes, including the breakdown at the 2:45 mark, where the rhythm guitar dances as the bass line nosedives.

“With eight seconds left in overtime, she's on your mind.”

"AN HONEST MISTAKE" THE BRAVERY (2005)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

These guys were from my hometown. And they say this about New York City: if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere, Well, that certainly worked out for The Bravery. They started out as scrappy, hard-working musicians. Handing out CDs, playing in small clubs and plastering posters all over the Lower East Side. They eventually earned a residency at Arlene’s Grocery, produced an EP and opened for Yeah Yeah Yeahs. They hit their stride during what was probably the height of the post-punk revival scene in the city. Fortunately, global success didn’t take too long to find the band — and a big reason for that is “An Honest Mistake”.

It had elements of Interpol’s dark edges, The Killers’ new wave vengeance, and The Strokes’ garage rock sound. That opening synth hook is irresistible. It pulls you in, and before you can try to release yourself from it, another synth hook layers on top of it with this soaring motif. We’re now sandwiched by two slabs of reimagined 80’s synth pop. But the guitar solo at the 3:10 mark give the song some extra muscle just as the track is about to wrap up. It ensured “An Honest Mistake” was just as much a rock song as it is a dance song. However you want to categorize it, this wonderfully catchy song is one that I will forever associate with 2005.

“Don't look at me that way. It was an honest mistake.”

"MY GIRLS" ANIMAL COLLECTIVE (2009)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

For several decades, various bands have often been compared to the creme de la creme. Are you progressive enough like early Floyd? Can you combine various genres like Hendrix? Can you write melodies and experiment instrumentally like The Beach Boys? The latter comparison seems to be one of the most common ones. Seems like the minute Pet Sounds was released, critics wanted to see who could match it or even exceed it. Merriweather Post Pavilion certainly has earned a right to be in those discussions. It’s like a modern-day Pet Sounds and “My Girls” is Animal Collective’s own “That’s Not Me”.

The song opens with an audio sample from the Cassini-Hyugens spacecraft which explored Saturn, its rings and its moons. From there, the iconic and mesmerizing synth hook trickles in like a waterfall. The percussion elements are sparse, but powerful with every hit. The primary strength of “My Girls” is undoubtedly the vocals. The verses are sung in rounds. The buildup into the chorus features these background falsetto blips. And the chorus is anchored by Panda Bear and Avey Tare’s harmonies. A song about family and settling down, “My Girls” is experimental to the bone, as evident in its instrumentation, vocals and song structure. It is truly deserving of the lofty Pet Sounds comparisons it drew.

“I just want four walls and adobe slabs for my girls.”

"MELODY OF YOU" SIXPENCE NONE THE RICHER (2002)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

One of the more underrated original songwriters of our time is Matt Slocum of Sixpence None The Richer. It’s a bit unfortunate that most people recognize their covers more than their originals, most notably their renditions of The La’s “There She Goes” and Crowded House’s “Don’t Dream It’s Over”. But I’ve always found their original songs to be much more intriguing. Slocum’s songwriting and arrangements and Leigh Nash’s whimsical vocals make for one of the most unique pairings in pop. If you’re not that familiar with it, a good place to start is “Melody of You”.

Divine Discontent has the feeling of a comeback album, even though their previous album release was their most successful. The five-year period in between albums certainly contributed to that feeling, but songs like “Melody of You”, “Breath Your Name”, “Tonight” and “A Million Parachutes” felt like they came from a band on a mission. The former is my favorite because of how it uses a 25-piece orchestra to create something deeply personal and intimate. “Melody of You” feels more like a love letter than a string-infused anthem.

“I only write variations to sooth the mood. A drink that will knock me down to the floor. A key that will unlock the door. Where I hear a voice sing familiar themes then beckons me weaves notes in between.”

"COSMIC LOVE" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2009)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

When Florence first came onto the scene her sound was so incredibly polished, confident and distinct it felt like she had already been at it for years. Just look at Lungs, probably one of the greatest debut records of all time, greatness that most artists hope to achieve even just once in their career. For me, that greatness all starts with Florence’s voice. No one else sounds like her. She cites Kate Bush, Stevie Nicks and Siouxsie Sioux as influences, but she has her own unique sound. She sings like a siren, howling with this incredible ferocity one moment and singing laser-sharp falsetto interludes effortlessly in another. There isn’t a mediocre track on Lungs, but one of the strongest, in my opinion, is “Cosmic Love”.

When I play it, I feel like I have left this universe. Florence + The Machine was one of the first acts to pioneer the use of the harp in rock — and on “Cosmic Love” the angelic stringed instrument delivers these gorgeous treble notes from the heavens. It’s enough to transport you. But Florence’s vocals took us even further, soaring and swirling its way through space. The music was otherworldly, the melody was divine and the lyrics were transcendent.

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

"CONCERNING THE UFO SIGHTING NEAR HIGHLAND, ILLINOIS" SUFJAN STEVENS (2005)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

Sufjan Stevens’ Illinois album is one of my favorite records from the 2000’s. Combining Stevens’ unique storytelling ability, orchestral musicality, vulnerable exploration of Christian themes and the promise of a state project (which turned out to be a joke), Illinois had this sense of gravity and boldness that’s missing on so many albums of that era. It wasn’t trying to be great. It just was. A perfect example is the understated and subtle opener, “Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois”.

Google says there was an actual UFO sighting in Highland five years before this song was released. Whether you believe that or not, “Concerning the UFO” is probably Sufjan Stevens at the height of his state project. The song welcomes you into the moment. One of the most imaginative vignettes on the Illinois album, there’s a quiet wonder to every musical layer—vocals, piano, flute, recorder. Play it outside at night and the music might be just enough to help you imagine the sighting.

“Incarnation, three stars delivering signs and dusting from their eyes.”

"MER DU JAPON" AIR (2007)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

Air got its leggings from soundtracks off of three Sofia Coppola films: The Virgin Suicides, Lost in Translation and Marie Antoinette. They are chill-out at times and dance floor-ready at other times. But all of their musical output is subtle, intricate and sophisticated no matter which end of the electronic spectrum they choose to lean into. Pocket Symphony is one of my favorite Air albums because it adds an unexpected layer of traditional Japanese instruments beyond the drum machines, synthesizers and assorted percussion instruments that are part of Air’s known arsenal. My favorite track off the album is “Mer Du Japon”.

Rather appropriately, many Air tracks create a sense of buoyancy and depth. On “Mer Du Japon”, it feels like we’re cruising along the surface of the Japanese Sea at breakneck speeds in one moment, diving deep toward the sea floor in another, and gasping for air in another. The koto, a Japanese floor harp, joins forces with the shimmery synth waves, pristine piano arpeggios and menacing bass line. The sound of waves sashaying along the shoreline can be faintly heard toward the end, signifying that our little trip has also come to an end. We have reached land.

“J'en perds la raison dans la mer du Japon.”

"WHATSERNAME" GREEN DAY (2004)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

Before American Idiot, I had nearly written off Green Day. They had some solid songs over the years, but they all felt like these one-off expressions that were great for just a moment in time. American Idiot changed all that. It was the antithesis of everything that turned me away from the band. As a concept album, American Idiot presented the narrative of a disillusioned teenager following 9/11 and the Iraq War. These weren’t two-minute punk rock songs. It was a story. And the songs were often combined into longer pieces, taking on the form of an opera, not a traditional rock album, which closed with the oft-overlooked “Whatsername”.

American Idiot is full of great moments, like “Holiday”, “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”, “Wake Me Up When September Ends” and the title track. But “Whatsername” had this wit and charm to it that the other tracks didn’t. It’s a reminder that the simplest of chord progressions can still do powerful things in music when other dynamics within a song are shifting. It had this quiet-loud dynamic thing happening that launched the song out of its romantic daze into the bridge, almost out of nowhere. “Whatsername” is a modern-day punk rock song because it captured all these complicated states: anger, despondence, regret.

“The regrets are useless in my mind.”

"MAP OF THE PROBLEMATIQUE" MUSE (2006)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

I think the reason why Muse has gained a massive following is because their music touches on so many different genres. Genres that usually have no business being associated with each other. Muse has used electro pop, prog rock, metal, classical, industrial rock and other musical expressions as springboards to create these epic-sized sonic statements for more than 25 years. I’ve never been to a Muse concert, but I can imagine how it might push one’s senses into overdrive. “Map of the Problematique” is a case in point.

The Black Holes and Revelations album was supercharged with some of Muse’s most renowned tracks, including ”Knights of Cydonia”, “Supermassive Black Hole” and “Starlight”. This made a song like “Map of the Problematique” drift slightly under the radar. It has drawn many comparisons to “Enjoy the Silence” in terms of musical arrangement and chord progressions. And Bellamy has unabashedly cited Depeche Mode as an influence on the song. The end result, however, I think it is much more epic than the aforementioned synth pop anthem. “Map of the Problematique” highlighted what Muse does best: effortlessly smashing genres together and eliciting an emotional response from a cerebral theme.

“Life will flash before my eyes. So scattered almost I want to touch the other side.”

"HURT" JOHNNY CASH (2002)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

This is already the third time I’m featuring “Hurt” on Mental Jukebox. It’s one of my all-time favorite cover songs. When I think of all the great cover songs from the last 25 years, some of the best ones are adored and revered by the original writers and recording artists. Johnny Cash’s rendition of Nine Inch Nail’s “Hurt” is one of those songs. Of Cash’s rendition, NIN frontman Trent Reznor famously said, “That song isn’t mine anymore.” The crazy thing is it’s true.

Cash elevated “Hurt” into the stratosphere. Powerful. Gripping. Even more haunting than the original, which seems like an impossible task, as Nine Inch Nails already created a masterpiece with the original. Recorded the year before he died, this was like Cash’s swan song. There’s even a faint percussion element in the background of the recording that sounds like a clock ticking. Time was literally passing by. The days were numbered for Cash. The most impressive thing about the cover is that he took emotions and thoughts so deeply personal to Reznor and made them his own. Toward the end of his life, this recording represents one of Johnny Cash’s crowning achievements.

“What have I become? My sweetest friend, everyone I know goes away in the end.”

"TO BUILD A HOME" THE CINEMATIC ORCHESTRA (2007)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

Music discovery is often happenstance. At times, we can find music when we’re proactively searching for it. But most of the time, it’s about being in the right place at the right time with the right people when a song comes on and our minds are blown. A lot of the music I’ve discovered is thanks to the recommendations of friends and coworkers. One coworker, in particular, introduced me to The Cinematic Orchestra and “To Build a Home”. He called it the most beautiful song in history. And I don’t think that enormous claim is very far from the truth.

The track never charted in the U.S. or in the U.K. But it has become larger than life in many ways. Ironically, it has played a background role, serving as the soundtrack in countless television soundtracks, most notably in a gut-wrenching scene from This Is Us. It was also featured in a figure skating performance at the 2018 Winter Olympics. The irony is that it has been thrusted into the foreground, becoming intertwined with these TV show scenes and Olympic performances. It’s one of those songs that has the power to bring everything else around it to a standstill. Most beautiful song in history? I can get agree to that.

“Out in the garden where we planted the seeds there is a tree as old as me. Branches were sewn by the color of green ground had arose and passed its knees.”

"EVERYBODY'S CHANGING" KEANE (2004)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

I wrote earlier about the prolific musical era of 2004. It was a year when established bands like Interpol and Modest Mouse flexed their recording muscles, while up-and-coming bands seemed to make a splash almost instantly. The Killers and Keane were two of the latter. Keane, in particular, felt like a band that was on top of the world for a brief moment in time. I don’t think the follow-up record came close, but that debut album is a thing of perfection. Each song seemed to be encased in a different emotional state that represented a hope or a fear, from the nostalgic bliss of the album opener “Somewhere Only We Know” to the passionate flurry of the closer “Bedshaped”. And track 5 was my favorite: “Everybody’s Changing”.

This was a song written before Keane exploded on the scene. A song about self-doubt and the fear of not making it while everyone else has moved on with their lives. It was an incredibly catchy song with a musical paradox: the lyrics were drenched in fear yet the melody exuded hope. As well as any other rock song, “Everybody’s Changing” found a way to use the piano to negate any need for guitar. It didn’t sound weak, empty or unrock & roll. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

“Trying to make a move just to stay in the game. I try to stay awake and remember my name. But everybody's changing, and I don't feel the same.”

"I'M THE MAN WHO LOVES YOU" WILCO (2001)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

It’s hard to believe it’s already been 20 years since the release of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Released just one week after 9/11, the landmark album ushered in a new era for Wilco, one where they shed their alt country roots and embraced a new experimental rock bent that earned the ears of many music listeners, including mine. Songs like “Jesus, Etc.”, “Kamera” and “Heavy Metal Drummer” are timeless favorites of mine. But one track, in particular, from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot felt like the definitive statement of this new period of creativity: “I’m the Man Who Loves You”.

Like a cross between Jimi Hendrix, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and a mad scientist, this track felt more like a dangerous experiment than a song. Haywire guitar interludes and horn blasts headlined a series of instrumental cacophonies, which became trademark effects of Wilco. “I’m the Man Who Loves You” sounds like it was born inside a factory that maybe didn’t pass all its inspections. It’s a reminder that often the best rock music out there is the kind that pushes limits and creates moments that we never saw coming.

“If I could you know I would.”