"THE BABY SCREAMS" THE CURE (1985)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: The Head On The Door (1985) - Track 6

Ranking: 28

This is my first entry from the album that turned me on to The Cure in the first place. For me, The Head On The Door was palatable. It was 100% Cure, but it. had this ease and accessibility about it. It’s common to deem this trait as a weakness. But nothing could be further from the truth. It isn’t so much a mainstream album, and it certainly isn’t The Cure selling out. The album explores a number of different genres and influences, conjures up a dozen different emotions, and it just happens to be danceable. Just maybe you’re dancing in a cemetery, not at prom. The unheralded track “The Baby Screams” clocks in at #28 on my list.

Here’s proof that the quintet works. It thrives. Smith, Tolhurst, Thompson, Gallup and Williams sound like they’re having a ball playing this. To this day, I still don’t know what the song is about, although it’s definitely not about colicky babies. Like many Cure songs, it’s not about what the song is telling you, it’s about how it makes you feel. When I play “The Baby Screams”, I wanna play air bass to those chunky bass hooks from Gallup. I wanna play air keys with those ironic flourishes from Tolhurst. I wanna get behind Boris’ kit and wail on the drums all afternoon and skip work. I wanna crush those guitar riffs side by side Porl. And I want to scream like a hyena with Robert. But the headphones will do just fine for now.

“Heaven, give me a sign. Waiting for the sun to shine. Pleasure fills up my dreams and I love it, like a baby screams.”

"JUMPING SOMEONE ELSE'S TRAIN" THE CURE (1980)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Boys Don’t Cry (1980) - Track 6

Ranking: 29

For me, the golden years of The Cure occurred with the first three studio albums after the band became a quintet, starting with 1985’s The Head On The Door. But I find many of their recordings as a trio – and even the shortlived moments as a duo – to be fascinating in their own way. The quintet years allowed the instrumental layering to shine. But the trio years allowed each individual element to shine, not simply blend into the ether. One of the best examples of this are the individual performances of Smith, Tolhurst and Dempsey on the early single “Jumping Someone Else’s Train”.

“Jumping Someone Else’s Train” is a wry observation of the things people will do to steal the spotlight from each other. The trio seem to be almost competing against each other for the spotlight on this one. And it’s not a bad thing. It sounds almost as if they’re trying to jump each other’s train by outdoing one another instrumentally. Listen to it and you’ll realize that “Jumping Someone Else’s Train” is a three-way duel between Smith’s cutting and slashing guitar notes, Tolhurst’s drum chops that mimic the sound of a train steamrolling over tracks at the 2:20 mark, and Dempsey’s bass lines that snake around at the :15 mark and never, ever let up.

“Everyone's happy. They're finally all the same 'cause everyone's jumping everyone else's train.”

"CLOSEDOWN" THE CURE (1989)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Disintegration (1989) - Track 3

Ranking: 30

I’m starting off with a song from Disintegration. And by the time this countdown is over, I’ll be covering off on many more from the same legendary album. The process of choosing my top 30 Cure songs is both exhilarating and excruciating. How do you narrow down from such a rich, vast catalog as The Cure’s? The very act of rating my favorite songs seems almost futile when I look at “Closedown”, the song that barely made the list at #30. Here’s a song that on any given day might be the only song I really need. It’s always been this way for me – from the very first time I heard it.

I was one of the lucky ones to hear “Closedown” before May 2, 1989, the day Disintegration was released out into the wild. My local alt rock station, WDRE, got its hands on the track and was playing it on heavy rotation despite its non-single status. “Closedown” is the anti-single. It has seven lines of lyrics in total. Just one verse without a chorus. But those seven lines are something else. The common interpretation of Disintegration – and most Cure albums, for that matter – is that the subject is dark and gloomy. But on “Closedown”, there’s a glimmer in the final line. In his final hours, the protagonist (Robert himself?) utters what he truly longs for: love – above all else.

“If only I could fill my heart with love.”

"FOOL'S GOLD" THE STONE ROSES (1989)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels

The Stone Roses was one of those bands that made me want to be in a band myself. They didn’t last long, but for a couple of years, it seemed like they were almost larger than life. They paved new musical territory and are considered by many to be the catalysts of the Madchester scene. The debut album is one of my Top Ten albums of all time, and several of the songs are among some of my favorites. At the top of that list is the infectious “Fools Gold”.

Highly unusual, the album version of the song clocked in at nearly ten minutes. It was the last song on the debut album, serving as the coda to a brilliant record. It was all funk, all beats. While many rhythm sections do their thing in the background, Mani and Reni were often thrusted into the foreground — and “Fools Gold” was their song. The bass line cascades down and the trippy snare hits are relentless. John Squire adds the funk with his wah-wah effects while Ian Brown murmurs a story about the unlikely perils of searching for gold with friends. Every song on the band’s debut album seemed to be a brash statement — and on “Fools Gold” the band used the rhythm to deliver it.

“Sometimes you have to try to get along dear. I know the truth and I know what you're thinking.”

"INCENSE AND PEPPERMINTS" STRAWBERRY ALARM CLOCK (1967)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery

The 60’s sounded like a concoction of different genres – soul, doo-wop, garage rock, folk, proto-punk, straight-ahead rock and, of course, psychedelic rock. The latter is probably the genre that comes to mind first for many of us. The style of music was almost secondary to the culture, which included mind-expanding drugs and movements like Woodstock. This was the playground and realm for many big acts, including Jefferson Airplane, Jimi Hendrix, the Yardbirds, the Dead and a lesser-known band by the catchy, peculiar name of Strawberry Alarm Clock. They had a few songs on the radio, none bigger and more popular than “Incense and Peppermints”.

The first time I heard the song was 30 years after it hit the radio waves. The movie Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery was a mocking celebration of the 60’s – its spirit, fashion, vernacular and music. “Incense and Peppermints” is one of the soundtrack highlights, maybe only trumped by Quincy Jones “Soul Bossa Nova”. There’s a YouTube video of Strawberry Alarm Clock performing the song where something off is noticeable right away. Mark Weitz’s organ riff might’ve been the musical highlight of the track, but the drummer stole the spotlight. The drum kit was situated at the front of the stage with the guitarists, bassist and organist in the background. A few bars into the song we hear drummer Randy Seol delivering the first verse. It’s not the only time we heard a drummer sing by any stretch – Phil Collins, Don Henley and Roger Taylor all shared this somewhat unusual claim. But Seol’s setup created an unforgettable inverted poise for the song and the era.

“Occasions, persuasions clutter your mind. Incense and peppermints, the color of time.”

"SHAPE OF MY HEART" STING (1993)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Leon: The Professional

By the release of Ten Summoner’s Tales, Sting had veered from his rock roots with The Police and toward a softer, quieter musical expression. His previous record. Soul Cages was highly introspective. I much prefer the demeanor of The Dream of the Blue Turtles and Nothing Like the Sun to Soul Cages and Ten Summoner’s Tales. But there are some real treasures on the latter. In the wake of the grunge era, Sting turned to jazz and blues for inspiration – and even flamenco, as he did on my favorite track off the album.

If songs like “Shape of My Heart” prove anything, it’s that, no matter how slow or quiet the music gets, Sting’s exploration of different genres continues to inform his own approach. While The Police found inspiration from reggae and punk, “Shape of My Heart” dabbled in flamenco. It’s a beautiful, classical guitar-driven track with some of the artist’s finest lyrics ever written. Sting used the metaphor of a card player to describe life and love, which gave Leon: The Professional more gravitas as the song unraveled over the end credits.

“I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier. I know that the clubs are weapons of war. I know that diamonds mean money for this art. But that's not the shape of my heart.”

"ONE HEADLIGHT" THE WALLFLOWERS (1997)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Excess Baggage

I’m bringing back my favorite Wallflowers track on the heels of featuring my favorite Dylan song the day before. Truth is, my impression of The Wallflowers was really low at first. I saw them in ‘92 as the opening act for a band that literally exploded overnight: The Spin Doctors. I think we all had unfair, yet high expectations for the band, which seems to come with the territory when you’re the son of a legend. Jakob’s band just wasn’t quite together. But that all changed for me five years later. That’s when Bringing Down The Horse was released, a pub rock record that seemed right at home in smoke-filled rooms in the wee hours. The standout track was “One Headlight”.

The tinny, yet emphatic snare hits drew me in quickly. And the guitar work is exceptional and underrated, in my opinion. Its bluesy demeanor seemed to thrive in space, creating these incredible intermittent moments before going full force at the 4:15 mark. Then, there’s Jakob, of course, whose voice is much less nasal and much more raspier than his father’s. “One Headlight” has a fantastic vocal performance. The heartbeat of the song, however, is that steady, insistent and unforgettable bass line, which carries the song along in this groove from beginning to end. I remember one night dancing to “One Headlight” at a house party on repeat until nearly dawn. There just aren’t many songs out there that can grab us like that.

“Me and Cinderella, we put it all together. We can drive it home with one headlight.”

"HURRICANE" BOB DYLAN (1975)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: The Hurricane

Dylan’s songwriting prowess has always been his strongest suit. Say what you will about his voice. But it’s hard to argue that there’s a lyricist as profound, prolific and poetic as Dylan. On the instrumental side, most of his music is characterized by his acoustic guitar playing – and quite a few songs are graced with his harmonica. That’s why a song like “Hurricane”, as core to Dylan’s catalog as it is, is a bit of an anomaly.

This brilliantly composed protest song isn’t just about a boxer, it’s about racism and injustice. “Hurricane” is my favorite Dylan song for two reasons. Vocally, it’s one of his more palatable recordings. The forward thrust of his vocals from the verses to the chorus keep Dylan’s natural nasal intonations to a minimum. And then there’s the violin. Played by Scarlet Rivera, it’s hardly a secondary instrument. On “Hurricane”, Rivera’s violin is pushed to the spotlight, behaving like a guitar — an electric one at that.

“Here's the story of the Hurricane. The man the authorities came to blame for something that he never done. Put in a prison cell but one time he could-a been the champion of the world.”

"WHERE'D YOU GO" THE MIGHTY MIGHTY BOSSTONES (1992)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Clueless

For many of us, college is where we experienced some of our fondest encounters with music. When I first headed off to university for my freshman year, the alt rock landscape was going through a monumental shift known as the grunge era. Everyone was listening to Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins and the like. But, because I was in Boston, I also got exposed to a thriving era for ska punk through the local outfit The Mighty Mighty Bosstones. My best friend from college – who later became one of my groomsmen – was a big-time Bosstones fan. The culmination of our experience with the band was a concert at Boston’s The Middle East, a basement club that seemed to only book excessively loud, hard rocking bands. I had my first experience in the mosh pit there, but there were also plenty of afternoons in our dorms where we’d crank up the Bosstones on our stereos – and “Where’d You Go” was one of our go-tos.

I’ve never seen the movie Clueless, and I likely never will. But I’ll tip my hat to whoever was in charge of the music. There are some gems on that soundtrack. “Where’d You Go”, even at its peak, was a bit of a minor alt rock hit. But for those who knew it, it has become an endearing song. Repetitive as hell, you can’t help but sing along to it. “Where’d You Go” doesn’t do anything unusual for the ska punk genre – but everything it does it does extremely well. Dicky Barrett’s vocals are practically swimming in gravel. The dueling saxophones and trumpet fly high, while the unforgettable trombone takes nosedive after nosedive.

“Any minute you will show and I'm wondering where did ya go?”

"SOUL TO SQUEEZE" RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS (1993)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Coneheads

As a casual fan of the Chili Peppers, I’ve witnessed a band that was never uncertain of who they are, even as their sound evolved. Their roots were steeped in a funk rock that allowed everyone in the band to rock out hard. Flea’s frenetic and funky bass work on those pre-Mother’s Milk albums are impressive. By Mother’s Milk, the band lineup changed and things got a little more melodic with staples like the Stevie Wonder cover “Higher Ground” and the alt rock anthems “Taste the Pain” and “Knock Me Down”. By the time Blood Sugar Sex Magik and Californication rolled out, the funk elements were diminished considerably. But the band’s sound was still somehow 100% Chili Peppers. A critical part of the band’s evolution was the slowed down number “Soul To Squeeze”.

It’s significant that “Soul to Squeeze” has no ounce of funk in it from beginning to end. It’s bluesy and melodic. Its strength isn’t its rhythm, but its flow. Everyone in the band shines on this one, but the key word here is subtlety. Kiedis’ vocals flow freely and smoothly. Flea’s bass lines are understated, but beautifully melodic. Frusciante’s guitar ushers us into the fold in those first 20 seconds, then becomes an exercise in restraint. And Smith, he’s just keeping time. Subtlety is more than enough here.

"ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER" JIMI HENDRIX (1968)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Forrest Gump

As legendary as Bob Dylan is, I understand that he’s not for everyone. Some people just can’t listen past Dylan’s nasal-infused vocal delivery. Jimi Hendrix wasn’t exactly the most vocally gifted musician either. But whatever he lacked as a singer he more than made up for as a guitar player. The thing about his rendition of the Dylan classic “All Along the Watchtower” is he lit every strand of folk and Americana roots from the song on fire, burned those elements to the ground and then made the fire rise even higher with an electric reboot.

Throughout my middle and high school years, I lived next door to a Jimi Hendrix fanatic. My brother introduced me to Jimi’s impressive catalog, which was incredibly prolific given his short life span. The thing that immediately drew me in to his music was a guitar playing style that almost sounded otherworldly. It wasn’t rock. It wasn’t blues. But it was this crazy blend of the two that seemed to be so effortless to Jimi but impossible for others to emulate. You can’t simply play the same notes that Jimi played and expect it sound the same. It was the way in which he navigated back and forth between those two genres so easily that makes “All Along the Watchtower” one of the greatest cover songs of all time.

“No reason to get excited. The thief, he kindly spoke. There are many here among us. Who feel that life is but a joke.”

"DEAD MAN WALKING" DAVID BOWIE (1997)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: The Saint

Few soundtracks have the cohesion felt and heard on The Saint. It took very different artists — Bowie, Moby, Duran Duran, Duncan Sheik, Daft Punk, The Chemical Brothers, Luscious Jackson, among others — and somehow miraculously put them all together on the same sonic wavelength. There are a ton of great tracks on the album. But my favorite is still Bowie’s “Dead Man Walking”. Fans have often commented that the eighties were not Bowie’s best years. But it appears that in the nineties, the famed artist had regained his form.

As we’ve seen throughout his career, Bowie evolved with each recording — always changing, but always distinctly Bowie. With “Dead Man Walking”, his music went into hyperdrive. There are a ton of delicious electronic layers to this thing. And while it works marvelously as an electronic symphony, something in me wants to pick out and isolate each individual layer. Each one captures the mood and frenetic pace of the film in its own unique way. One of those layers is a guitar riff that Jimmy Page handed over to Bowie on a platter. Page said: “I've got this riff and I can't do anything with it. Do you want it?” Bowie answered the call.

“And I'm gone through a crack in the past like a dead man walking.”

"IRIS" THE GOO GOO DOLLS (1998)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: City of Angels

I once read that if a guitar and a banjo were to have a baby, that baby would be a mandolin. Sounds about right. You can hear hints of both in this instrument that seems to be saved only for the right occasion rather than used as a regular instrument. Of course, the mandolin was always around – even hard rockers Led Zeppelin found a way to incorporate it on their slower, softer classics in the seventies like “Going to California” and “The Battle of Evermore”. In the eighties, the instrument fell by the wayside as synthesizers and loud, power chord-driven guitar hooks took over. Then, in the nineties, it returned, most famously with the R.E.M. hit “Losing My Religion” at the beginning of the decade – and then again with The Goo Goo Dolls’ “Iris” toward the end of the decade.

While the mandolin plays a prominent role and serves as the entry point for the song, what’s great about “Iris” is that it’s joined later in the song by a full string arrangement and the electric guitar through these sweeping, soaring hooks. Written specifically for the movie City of Angels, “Iris” was one of the most memorable anthems of late nineties alternative rock. The tide had already turned abruptly away from grunge and splintered off into dozens of directions, including the guitar-driven angst of early Radiohead, the indie musings of Yo La Tengo and Belle & Sebastian, and the accessible, mid-tempo recordings of The Goo Goo Dolls.

“When everything feels like the movies, you bleed just to know you're alive.”

"GANGSTA'S PARADISE" COOLIO (1995)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Dangerous Minds

The very reasons why people love hip hop and gangsta rap are the same reasons why I’m not crazy about these genres. Many of their most well-known tracks rely on samples from existing tracks for their riffs – and even for their melodies and lyrics. I just prefer originality when it comes to these core music elements. But I understand the significance of a samples-heavy approach. It’s a reminder that the artists themselves are fans just like us. Samples also serve as an ode to the past and to key musical influences. And if you’re going to sample someone else’s music, you may as well use the best, like Coolio did in “Gangsta’s Paradise”.

Stevie Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life is a great listen. But I have to admit, I heard “Gangsta’s Paradise” before I even knew about “Pastime Paradise”. Hearing the songs in this order allowed me to appreciate the latter that much more. Coolio had the groove and his finger on the pulse of the new reality. But Stevie had the vision and musical creativity, being one of the first to use a synthesizer to create string sounds. “Gangsta’s Paradise” made the groove and rhythm more palatable for everyone – from black kids in the hood to white suburban kids to parody kingpin “Weird Al” Yankovic. “Gangsta’s Paradise” is that rare track that is both a cultural statement and a cultural phenomenon.

“As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I take a look at my life and realize there's nothin' left.”

"WICKED GAME" CHRIS ISAAK (1989)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Wild At Heart

In 1989, a lot of girls wanted Chris Isaak. And a lot of boys wanted to be like Chris Isaak – to be able to seduce a girl the way he was able to through a song. Things is, before “Wicked Game”, a lot of boys and girls never even knew who Chris Isaak was. Most of his never heard his music – and many of us didn’t even recognize his name. But then, just like that, he was almost larger than life. A lot of it has to do with the movie Wild At Heart – and the fact that “Wicked Game” is just a really, really good song.

“Wicked Game” delivered a single punch in the gut to all the other love songs. In under five minutes, Isaak raised the standards for ballads and seduced half of the song’s listeners in the process. Pushing his rockabilly agenda into the mainstream radio consciousness, the track grips you with these lingering, hanging sliding guitar notes. “Wicked Game” also benefits from one of the greatest male vocal performances ever – bearing striking resemblances to Elvis and Roy Orbison. Quietly delicate, yet strangely powerful.

“What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.”

"BRIGHT AS YELLOW" THE INNOCENCE MISSION (1995)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Empire Records

It goes without saying that a movie about music should have really great music. And the Empire Records soundtrack is truly a great album. Stacked top to bottom. Made to listen from beginning to end. But “Bright as Yellow” is the one song that I’ll listen to solo, detached from its soundtrack counterparts. It’s a song easily overlooked by the mid-tempo contributions from The Cranberries and Gin Blossoms as well as the louder, brasher tracks from Edwyn Collins, Cracker and Ape Hangers, among others. But it must not be overlooked. “Bright As Yellow” is a quiet beauty.

It’s a song that creates an immediate warmth and a mood that extends far beyond the reaches of the movie scenes. The kind of song that feels right at home on a warm summer evening or a cold winter night. “Bright As Yellow” can move you with its quiet, understated power whether it’s blasting from your speakers or you’re playing it quietly on your ear buds. Karen Peris’ vocals are inviting and unusual, yet eerily similar to The Sundays’ Harriet Wheeler. Next to her, her husband Don Peris wields his guitar to merge moody with melodic.

“And you live your life with your arms stretched out. Eye to eye when speaking. Enter rooms with great joy shouts. Happy to be meeting.”

"ALL I WANT IS YOU" U2 (1988)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Reality Bites

When you think of the Reality Bites soundtrack, the first song that probably comes to mind is “Stay (I Missed You”, the song that launched Lisa Loeb’s career. Ethan Hawke first heard Loeb playing her guitar in his apartment building – and evidently thought she was talented enough for more people to hear her music beyond their building. He played her music for director Ben Stiller – and the rest is history. The soundtrack is also supported by classics from The Knack, Squeeze and New Order, and lesser known treasures from Dinosaur Jr. and Arrested Development. And right smack in the middle of the track list is U2’s “All I Want Is You”, which is my favorite song from the soundtrack.

One of the gems from Rattle and Hum, I was always drawn to this track since the moment I heard it. I didn’t have to warm up to it. And, more notably, I never got sick of it. The song had never lost its edge for me (no pun intended). “All I Want You” isn’t one of the band’s greatest instrumental efforts by any means, but there’s room for an Edge guitar solo in there and an unexpected string arrangement. The best thing about the song is that it takes you somewhere and then brings you back home. It starts off quiet, builds up to a crescendo, and then dies down to a near whisper.

“But all the promises we make from the cradle to the grave, when all I want is you.”

"SWEET JANE" COWBOY JUNKIES (1988)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Natural Born Killers

Cowboy Junkies and The Velvet Underground could not be more different from each other. Margo Timmins’ voice is highly melodic and delicate, while Lou Reed’s is much more rock & roll, brash and often more speaking than actual singing. The early Cowboy Junkies work was a place you could turn to for solace., while the VU canon is characterized by rants and occasional moments of cacophony. The differences between the original “Sweet Jane” and the Cowboy Junkies cover reflect these divergent musical approaches to a T.

VU famously opens the song with a shimmery cacophony. It jolts you. But Cowboy Junkies omit the opening and lull us into a placid space by jumping straight into the main chord progressions. VU made the song sound like the start of a party, while Cowboy Junkies made it feel like the end of the night. They definitely played it their way with no intention to sound like VU. This is probably the cover version’s best trait. It’s almost a completely different song that we’re hearing. Aside from the chords, everything else is different: the pacing, the vocals, the instrumentation and the aura.

“But anyone who ever had a heart, they wouldn't turn around and break it. And anyone who ever played a part, they wouldn't turn around and hate it.”

"WHERE IS MY MIND?" PIXIES (1988)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Fight Club

While it may not be in the upper echelon of my personal Pixies favorites, “Where Is My Mind?” has cultural implications that far outweigh the rest of this great band’s catalog. That’s, of course, because of Fight Club, which was not just a terrific film, it was a cultural phenomenon. Controversial and influential, Fight Club ended with this song — and then continued on in public discourse and in private fight clubs across the U.S.

“Where Is My Mind?” is an introduction to the irresistible, jarring world of the Pixies. It’s a coming out party of quiet-loud-quiet dynamics that mimicked the cinematic rhythms of the movie and that would define the Pixies imprint on the music world. They weren’t Nirvana. Or Radiohead. Or Smashing Pumpkins. But they were the ones that influenced all three. We may not have any of those bands without this song. What I’m drawn to on this track: Black Francis going from tentative to full-blown insane. I also think the simple, pervasive guitar riff trumps the mini guitar solo.

“With your feet on the air and your head on the ground, try this trick and spin it, yeah.”

"SAX AND VIOLINS" TALKING HEADS (1991)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Until The End Of The World

This was the last Talking Heads song ever written. In the context of modern rock history, it had a lot riding on it. And the band truly delivered. When they were asked to contribute a song for the movie Until The End Of The World, they were advised to create something that sounded like the near-future. Something that could fly for the year 2000. This was actually an ask for all the soundtrack contributors. But Talking Heads managed to accomplish the task, while staying true to their sound and to who they are.

“Sax and Violins” has Talking Heads written all over it. It has plenty of worldbeat undertones, with its complex rhythms and nuanced instrumentation that evolves throughout the song. It’s also cheeky as hell. Even with the song title. It’s. a twist of the phrase “sex and violence”. Every time I hear the song, I feel this sense of urgency to the experience. I wait with bated breath – with an anticipation that I’ll discover something new from it. Something that Byrne, Weymouth, Harrison and Frantz perhaps wanted to pass along to their fans. The last time I heard it, my ears were more attuned to the samples that appear throughout the song. I can’t even make out what they are. Shrieks? Machinery? Feedback? Maybe all of the above.

“Love keeps us together. And love will drive us insane.”