"GIRL, YOU'LL BE A WOMAN SOON" URGE OVERKILL (1992)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 21

The idea of covering a Neil Diamond song isn’t anything new. Long before Urge Overkill did it, others tried their hand at the task and created covers that were even more iconic than the originals. UB40 brought “Red Red Wine” to the masses. And The Monkees made “I’m A Believer” a classic. But Urge Overkill was a bit of an unlikely participant in the Diamond cover caravan. They rocked a lot harder and opened for Nirvana and Pearl Jam at the time they recorded the song. But their cover of “Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon” is a cultural icon, ushering the song into the mainstream consciousness as part of the Pulp Fiction movie soundtrack.

There’s more to “Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon” than the catchy chorus. The song thrives on several tempo changes and strumming styles and the underlying flamenco persona on Diamond’s version is still there though slightly toned down. In the song, it feels like the girl rushes through the red muleta and emerges as a woman on the other side. The guitar certainly plays a prominent role in Urge Overkill’s music. But here, it. takes a backseat and the vocals take centerstage, making it a perfect track for the heroin overdose scene.

“Can't count all the ways I'd die for you, girl. And all they can say is "He's not your kind".”

"THE LESS I KNOW THE BETTER" TAME IMPALA (2015)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 20

At one point in 2015, it felt like Tame Impala was the hottest band on the planet. I remember listening to Currents nonstop that year – at home, on the go, in the office. I was working in a creative bullpen atmosphere that year, and Currents was one of the few albums we could all agree on. “The Less I Know The Better” was one of the staples from that album which introduced me to the world of Tame Impala. The video was weird and perverted. The musicality was distinct.

“The Less I Know The Better” is a musical study in contrasts. Rock elements smashed together with disco accents. Ethereal vocals and keys hand in hand with that devilish guitar riff. It seemed like everything it was trying to do musically couldn’t and shouldn’t work. These pairings don’t inherently belong together. But it’s their juxtapositions that make the song so gripping and infectious. It’s the contrasts that form the song’s identity.

“She was holding hands with Trevor. Not the greatest feeling ever. Said, "Pull yourself together. You should try your luck with Heather."

"PAINTED BIRD" SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES (1982)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 19

Not exactly a deep cut, but far from the obvious Siouxsie pick, today I’m going with “Painted Bird” off 1982’s underrated A Kiss In The Dreamhouse. There are some household tracks here: “Melt”, “Fireworks” and “Slowdive” are the biggest ones. The album before – Juju – is perhaps more recognizable. But A Kiss In The Dreamhouse was more daring and more experimental. Exactly the reasons why I chose “Painted Bird” of all Siouxsie tracks.

“Painted Bird” rewrites the rules on just about everything. It uses unconventional time signatures and seems to adjust its tempo mid-track. McGeoch experiments with various guitar riffs, from soaring hooks to shuffled arpeggios. Budgie’s drum kit is transformed into a percussion playground. Severin lends a hand on organ. Siouxsie turns in yet another vivid, gut-wrenching vocal performance. And the last 15 seconds of the song are a testament to the gripping power of an unexpected close.

“On lead-poisoned wings – you try to sing. Freak beak shrieks are thrown – at your confusing hue. The peacock screaming eyes – show no mercy no mercy.”

"CRIPS" RATATAT (2004)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 18

The debut album from Ratatat was like a rabbit hole for me. A journey to discover a new electronic expression where guitars are still relevant. They are almost computerized for the better. And rhythms are highly infectious, yet super simple. And the tracks are largely all instrumental. That was the Ratatat formula. Over the years, that formula has largely stayed intact from the start. It all began with an unexpected debut album – and “Crips” was one of the key tracks.

It all starts and ends with the synth work. On “Crips”, the synth chords and riffs are simultaneously mesmerizing and invigorating. I always felt like the song was ushering me into some kind of new dimension with a different space and time. At the 2:30 mark, the distinctive bass line takes things over and ushers the listener back from the new dimension into reality. It’s a short, memorable, unexpected trip that you never have to plan for.

"NO ONE KNOWS" QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE (2002)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 17

Had to dig a little deeper here. Everyone will pick a Queen song for the 17th day of this challenge, and I wanted to do something different. That said, I’m not a fan of either Queensryche or Quicksilver Messenger Service. Couldn’t even name one song from either of those bands. I’ve always liked the name Queens of the Stone Age. So I found myself flipping through some of their more well-known tracks on Spotify. Full disclosure: I’ve never heard a single song from Queens of the Stone Age until today. “No One Knows” stood out immediately.

Having no idea what the band’s sound is characterized by, I was welcomed by this almost Spoon-esque rhythm created by short, frenetic guitar riffs. It made me feel a bit at home and less out of my element even though this is typically not my kind of music. “No One Knows” also makes great use of quiet-loud-quiet dynamcis, which my ears always love. Looking further into it, I also found out that Dave Grohl plays drums on this track, in addition to most of the songs on the album Songs For The Deaf. My verdict: I may not keep listening to this band, but I thoroughly appreciated the pit stop.

“Heaven smiles above me. What a gift here below. But no one knows. A gift that you give to me. No one knows.”

"TIME" PINK FLOYD (1973)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 16

There are only a small handful of albums that shook me to my core when I first heard them. Dark Side Of The Moon is one of them. I didn’t need the mind-expanding drugs to help either. It was always about the music. It was unlike anything that came before it, and I would argue that nothing else after it comes close. Calling a track on this album a song simply isn’t doing it justice. Each one is a sonic experiment, engineered by Alan Parsons and brought to life by one of the most experimental rock bands in history. “Time” is a natural choice for so many reasons.

Clocking in at nearly seven minutes, “Time” starts with its iconic soundscape of clocks and wind chimes, indicating the passage of time in a simple, yet captivating way. This is the only song on Dark Side that includes all four band members as co-writers. Each member brings something powerful to the track. Gilmour’s vocals are among his best. “Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day.” Waters and Mason lay down a rhythmic bed that accentuates the passing of time. And Wright’s organ hooks and the exhilarating backing vocals are the gateway between the song’s firm rock stance and bluesy demeanor.

“Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time. Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines. Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way. The time is gone, the song is over, thought I'd something more to say.”

"MESSAGES" O.M.D. (1980)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 15

My introduction to OMD was by way of the Brat Pack. I recall the first song I heard from the band being “If You Leave” from the Pretty In Pink soundtrack. I liked it back then, but I almost can’t stand it now. That said, without Pretty In Pink, I may not have ever discovered the impressive back catalog to one of thee greatest synth pop pioneer duos of the 80s: Andy McCluskey and Paul Humphreys. The music from the first three albums are among my favorite OMD anthems. And it all starts with the hypnotic U.K. single, “Messages”.

“Messages” is more than one thing for me. In one listen, it’s an abstract sonic expression. In another, it transforms into the perfect chill-out accompaniment. Still in another, it’s an SOS. It’s a song whose hypnotic synth lines give it different expressions for different moments. The synth lines almost become harmonic accompaniments to the main vocals. I’ve never had the opportunity to see O.M.D. live in concert, but if I did I’d want this song to be on the setlist.

“But memories are uncertain friends when recalled by messages.”

"THE HAND THAT FEEDS" NINE INCH NAILS (2005)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 14

Well after the hey dey of Nine Inch Nails, particularly the Pretty Hate Machine and Downward Spiral years, this song and album were off my radar. If anything, “The Hand That Feeds” is a reminder not to give up on a great band and assume they’ve done their best work already and can’t get back to form. In recent years, we’ve seen that can be a mistake. Bands like Pearl Jam and the Chili Peppers continue to be relevant – and this track proves Nine Inch Nails was able to accomplish the same feat more than a decade after it exploded on the scene.

“The Hand That Feeds” still captures the same angsty essence of NIN. The tempo-driven, percussion-barraged, distortion-soaked instrumentation is all there. But something feels different. While the seminal songs from Pretty Hate Machine and Downward Spiral seemed to reveal Reznor’s wallow in self-pity and self-destruction, this newer version of NIN flips the switch. The song comes across as a warning from a protagonist that is largely in control. It’s a band reinvented, but one that never lost its musical identity.

“Just how deep do you believe? Will you bite the hand that feeds?”

"RITCHIE SACRAMENTO" MOGWAI (2021)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 13

Now onto a band that I was much too late getting into. Somehow these largely instrumental post-rock geniuses evaded my radar for far too long. Some of my favorite music come from bands that make songs I can get lost in. Songs that make me forget about my circumstances, or the opposite, help me to see my circumstances with even greater clarity. Mogwai’s music does this for me. I’ve mostly been drawn to the instrumental stuff. But on As The Love Continues, an album born out of the pandemic, Track #4 has vocals, and the song is just so good.

“Ritchie Sacramento” is a track that I treat just like all of Mogwai’s great instrumental tracks. The vocals are pretty spot on, and they even make me wish Mogwai sang more and wrote more lyrics. But I also listen to those vocals like they’re an instrument, interwoven with those shimmery guitar hooks. The vocals and instruments are like soulmates on this one. It may not happen often, but when Mogwai adds lyrics like they did on “Ritchie Sacramento”, the results are absolutely worth it.

“Rise crystal spear flied through over me. Suddenly gone from here, left alone on the road. What brings you back? Promises of a memory. Your own ghost running away with the past.”

"SO ALIVE" LOVE AND ROCKETS (1989)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 12

Simple. Repetitive. And addictive. It just worked. It was the summer of 1989 when “So Alive” came strutting on to the airwaves. This radio darling was accessible and infectious, but still a near perfect embodiment of the band’s unique sound and persona born out of mishmash of gothic and motorcycle culture - which stretched across everything from album art to videos. In “So Alive”, Love and Rockets pulled off something rarely achieved in music: they sold out without selling out.

Let’s break it down. Steady, hypnotic snare hits from Kevin Haskins. Keyboard chords that envelope and swarm, nearly choking the listener. Daniel Ash doing his best leather-clad cross between a whisper and a growl. And that soulful trio on backup vocals. It was so effortlessly cool. And, for a high school teenager crazy about music like me, well, that was almost all that mattered.

“Wish I could stop. Switch off the clock. Make it all happen for you.”

"EVERYBODY'S CHANGING" KEANE (2004)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 11

2004, for me, was a prolific era for music. 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.”

"JUST LIKE HONEY" THE JESUS & MARY CHAIN (1985)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 10

Songs are peculiar little things. They make us feel things. Happy feelings. Sad feelings. Angry feelings. And sometimes they prompt rather extreme emotions, like sheer euphoria or utter outrage. The lyrics, of course, play a big role in this. Words have power. But words aren’t always necessary as we’ve seen throughout music history – from Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” masterpiece to The Doors’ “Moonlight Drive”. The musical arrangements and instrumentation can be just as powerful. This is especially true with the 80’s anthem “Just Like Honey”.

I discovered The Jesus and Mary Chain a good four years after “Just Like Honey” was released. My favorite radio station WDRE (formerly WLIR) was giving the frenetic, electric “Head On” decent airplay and I just couldn’t get enough. My introduction to the band immediately gave me the feeling that they wanted to take me on a ride. “Head On” was like a demon-possessed roller coaster – and the thing wouldn’t stop. But “Just Like Honey” was more like a carousel of bliss. It seems to swirl around indefinitely in a hazy slo-mo daze. And once I’m on, i don’t ever want to come down.

“Walking back to you is the hardest thing that I can do.”

"UPWARD OVER THE MOUNTAIN" IRON & WINE (2002)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 9

Production – or a lack of it – sometimes can be the defining statement of an album. Some of my favorite albums of well-known established artists are the ones that take a minimalist approach. Beck’s Sea Change. Sufjan Stevens’ Seven Swans. And, of course, Springsteen’s Nebraska. Iron & Wine’s debut album follows a similar path, recorded initially as a demo on a 4-track, and stayed that way all the way through the album release. If you ever need to be convinced that less is more, the song “Upward Over the Mountain” is all the proof you need.

The song is all Sam Beam. The melody and whispery vocals highly reminiscent of Sufjan Stevens. The rhythm acoustic guitar that seems like it was made for fireside singalongs. And the distinctive slide solo that appears midway through the song, injecting a bright, optimistic disposition over the song. “Upward Over the Mountain” is two parts assurance, one part wallow, somehow capturing just the right balance.

“So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten. Sons are like birds flying always over the mountain.”

"THE LEBANON" THE HUMAN LEAGUE (1984)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 8

When music fans think of The Human League, some of the first traits that undoubtedly come up are Phil Oakey’s princely vocals, the shimmery synth chops and the call-and-response duo of Oakey and Sulley. Most fans don’t think of scorching guitar riffs or political statements first. But that’s what we have with “The Lebanon”, the lowest-charting single from the band in the U.S., which also failed to achieve the same success as the Dare singles. It is my favorite Human League song by far.

“The Lebanon” flies in the face of conventional synth-pop music. It’s dominated by that incendiary guitar riff, relegating the synth chords to a rhythmic role. The song looks back at the Lebanese civil war. It feels like the cities are on fire when you play the track. While synthesizers and Oakey’s vocals and songwriting gave The Human League its identity, its songs like “The Lebanon” that make me wonder what could’ve been had the band experimented a bit more on guitar.

“He left his home the week before. He thought he'd be like the police. But now he finds he is at war. Weren't we supposed to keep the peace.”

"BOX OF RAIN" GRATEFUL DEAD (1970)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 7

Many music fans will just never get the Dead. It took me a long time to get there myself. In high school, I was completely puzzled as to why the small nucleus of deadheads at my school loved these guys so much. In college, this bafflement turned into cynicism. I would just roll my eyes and continue on with my Smashing Pumpkins and Nirvana. But I eventually got to appreciating the Dead without even going to a single live show - the experience that they’re obviously most known for. A big part of this turnaround is due to listening more closely to the song “Box of Rain”.

My first observation was the year in which it was recorded. In 1970, the Dead recorded two classic, full-length albums: Workingman’s Dead and American Beauty. This band was on a tear. Creating and jamming at a furious pace. Another noticeable aspect of the song is that it’s not sung by Jerry Garcia. That’s bassist Phil Lesh on vocals, the guy who also composed the instrumentation on the song. “Box of Rain” is proof of the band’s penchant to behave and function like a true jam band. Then we get to the chord structure. Unconventional in its progressions and complex in its structure, “Box of Rain” comes together with nine different guitar chords. There’s a rigor to the craft here that I can’t help but admire.

“What do you want me to do, to do for you to see you through? For this is all a dream we dreamed one afternoon long ago.”

"QUEEN OF PEACE" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2015)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 6

I saw Florence perform at MSG a few weeks ago. She was unbelievable. A powerful force and presence, yet so approachable and relatable with her audience. The setlist was stacked with tracks from the new album Dance Fever, a record that admittedly is taking me some time to appreciate. But I’m getting there. I was hoping for more of the fan favs to appear on the setlist, including this one. “Queen of Peace” is still one of my favorite songs from Florence.

Ferocity. Emotion. Grandeur. These are some of the qualities that I love most about Florence. And they all come together on “Queen of Peace”, one of the key bangers from How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful. The track is perhaps most known for its tempo gear switches—from its regal and triumphant string arrangement prelude to the bold fierceness of the opening verse. Then up another notch to the emotional rampage of the chorus. It’s one of the most powerful songs recorded from one of the most powerful artists of the last decade.

“Like the stars chase the sun, over the glowing hill, I will conquer. Blood is running deep. Some things never sleep.”

"DO IT CLEAN" ECHO & THE BUNNYMEN (1980)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 5

Echo & the Bunnymen may be considered by many to be one of the preeminent post-punk bands. But in some ways, they didn’t sound anything like a post-punk band. The biggest influence on their sound is obviously The Doors. Much of the LA rock legend’s blues-inspired sound, organ hooks and vocal crooning were passed on to Echo. In fact, the band has even covered Doors classics, including “Soul Kitchen” and “People Are Strange”. But “Do It Clean” may be the perfect example of inspiration and originality.

It starts off with a heavy, urgent dose of guitar and bass with a 70s rock vibe before settling into its confident, rolling mid-tempo. McCullough doesn’t sound like the second coming of Jim Morrison. He comes off like a frontman with his own distinct identity and agenda. But if that organ riff doesn’t remind you of Ray Manzarek, I don’t know what will. One of the first few Echo songs that I had the fortune of discovering through WDRE/WLIR, “Do It Clean” is a reminder of how good we had it with local alternative rock radio.

“I had a handful of this. What did I do with it? I had a barrel of this. What did I do with it?”

"DA FUNK" DAFT PUNK (1997)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 4

Now I’m bringing things back to early Daft Punk. When French house was taking form. And Daft Punk was already ruling the dance floor. In 1997, there was a New York City club called Au Bar that my crew frequented quite a bit. When I say “frequented”, I mean going Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday night within one week wasn’t exactly unheard of. We devoured the music. Daft Punk was a big part of that scene. The debut album introduced us to French house, a genre that most of us didn’t know even existed. It was the soundtrack for our nights for the next couple of years until we all settled down and got girlfriends. One of those tracks was “Da Funk”.

Simple synth hooks. Driving, bass-heavy break beats. Electromagnetic treble chords. And not much else. The beauty of “Da Funk” is that it wasn’t overly complex. This minimalist approach had a way of making you feel it so viscerally. And what is music’s job to do than allow you to feel it and experience it. Back at Au Bar, that’s all it was to us. And “Da Funk”, “Around the World”, “One More Time” and countless other Daft Punk tracks served their purpose. But what we didn’t realize was how pioneering the French duo was at the time, and how influential they would become.

"LORELEI" COCTEAU TWINS (1984)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 3

The world of Cocteau Twins is one of mesmerizing euphoria. A world where Elizabeth Fraser’s vocals soar like stardust, while Robin Guthrie and Simon Raymonde create these dreamy soundscapes for you to get lost in. These musical expressions would later become some of the early inspiration for shoegaze bands in the decade to follow. Cocteau Twins were way ahead of their time. And yet, their music is still fresh even today. The resilience of albums like Treasure, Blue Bell Knoll and Heaven or Las Vegas cannot be contested. Just listen to “Lorelei” and you’ll know why.

Cocteau Twins have always been more about the mood than the message. Often times, Fraser’s vocals are nearly indecipherable. I couldn’t tell you what “Lorelei” is about – or really what any other Cocteau Twins song is about, for that matter. But I can tell you what it feels like. Imagine being taken up in a cloud and brought into a kingdom of clouds where the sun shines like gold and angels float by you in slow-motion. A band is playing without a stage – just a musical trio in sync and fully buoyant in the bright, bright atmosphere. In other words, “Lorelei” feels a bit like heaven.

“We’re covered by the sacred fire. When you come to me, you come to broke.”

"HOLOCENE" BON IVER (2011)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 2

Some of the best songs we have aren’t the ones we immerse ourselves in. They’re the ones we get immersed by. “Holocene” has always been that way for me. I feel overtaken by it every time I hear it. Does that even make any sense at all? I don’t know. I wish I could explain it better. But I feel like I’m simply no longer in control when I listen to those disparate acoustic guitar strums, ethereal falsetto murmur and swirling synth lines washing over me.

The lyrics and musicality are joined at the hip in “Holocene”. The union of these two elements is so strong that Justin Vernon’s stunning vocals feels like another atmospheric instrumental element being played on the track, not sung. Like much of Bon Iver’s catalog, it’s the kind of song that contains a greater power and exudes a deeper resonance when you play it in the middle of the night. “Holocene” just seems to feel at home when there are no other sounds to distract it, or us.

“Hulled far from the highway aisle. Jagged vacance, thick with ice. I could see for miles, miles, miles.”