"JACK & DIANE" JOHN MELLENCAMP (1982)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

As an MTV kid, I heard a lot of John Mellencamp growing up. John Cougar, actually, as that was his artist name at the time. “Jack & Diane”, “Small Town”, “Pink Houses”, “Hurts So Good”, “R.O.C.K. In The USA”. His version of America was different than mine. But what kept me from changing the channel was that Mellencamp always told captivating stories of the everyday. He’s an underrated storyteller in the music medium.

“Jack & Diane” are just “two American kids growing up in the heartland”. The song is a personal portrait of, well, nothing in particular. “Oh yeah, life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone.” And that’s the hook. Musically, it adopts a quiet-loud-quiet dynamic to give the song a bit more edge. The ultimate example of this is the bridge. And what a bridge it is. Thunderous drums and unyielding vocal harmonies for an unforgettable refrain.

“Suckin' on chilli dog outside the Tastee Freez.”

"SUPERSONIC" OASIS (1994)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

I have mixed feelings about posting this one. Oasis is not my favorite band by any stretch. It did seem like requisite listening for anyone interested in a real rock sound during the early to mid nineties. But the whole sibling feud between Liam and Noel seemed too immature and ridiculous, even to me, a college kid during the band’s hey day. I also don’t like Liam as a person in general. That said, the guy is a talented songwriter. Some of those melodies are Beatles-esque. One prime example: “Supersonic”.

I remember when “Supersonic” hit radio. How could you not? There really wasn’t anything that sounded quite like it? It was frankly a breath of fresh air. This Manchester rock sound seemed to tell all the Seattle grunge bands to go shove off – in so many notes. “Supersonic” also has the distinction of being the band’s very first single. Like most of the songs from Oasis, this one was sung by Liam, but written by Noel. Noel’s guitar work is pretty solid on this one, but Liam’s lead vocals carry all the swagger.

“I know a girl called Elsa, she's into Alka-Seltzer. She sniffs it through a cane on a supersonic train.”

"SUGAR MAGNOLIA" GRATEFUL DEAD (1970)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

American Beauty holds a special place in my album of music memories. It marks one of my “a ha” moments. What I mean by that is that I didn’t understand the Dead for quite a few years, but then one day it just clicked. I can’t really explain the shift. I’ve never seen them live. And for a band whose identity is so closely tied to the live performance and touring, that probably presents quite a gap in understanding and appreciation for their music. In eighth grade, Jimmy Karger tried to turn me on to the Dead and played me some of their songs. I just didn’t get into it, and preferred “heavier” rock like Rush, Zeppelin and Rush. But at some point, the gateway album American Beauty climbed its way into my consciousness and one of the standouts was “Sugar Magnolia”.

I first heard “Sugar Magnolia” on the compilation album, Skeletons From The Closet. Jerry Garcia plays a pedal steel guitar on this one, which gave the song an ethereal quality that balanced well with the more grounded Dead qualities anchored by the vocal harmonies and rhythm guitar. The song helped me to see what all the fuss is about. This is a band whose identity cannot be pinned down to one style or approach. They are an amalgamation of folk, country, blues, bluegrass, rock, and psychedlia.

“She can dance a Cajun rhythm. Jump like a Willys in four wheel drive.”

"OLD TOWN ROAD" LIL NAS X, BILLY RAY CYRUS (2019)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Hard to think of another song that got as much airplay as this one back in 2019. It had an unusually high universal appeal, attracting rap fans and country fans alike. Not exactly the most common of genre mash-ups. Generation-wise, there was also tons of appeal from a wide range of ages. Seemed like the elderly loved this one just as much as the kids. Not many songs can pull off that level of acclaim.

I have a love-hate relationship with this song. I find it extremely irritating at times. But I also find it incredibly catchy. It’s inventiveness through its combination of rap and country elements is inspiring. But the song also feels somewhat contrived in its pop-ness. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know what to do with it. Part of me wants to stop listening, the other part of me can’t stop listening. “Old Town Road” is just that kind of song.

“Ridin' down Rodeo in my Maserati sports car. Got no stress, I've been through all that.”

"PRIVATE DANCER" TINA TURNER (1984)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

The passing of Tina Turner is one of the heaviest losses in the music world that we’ve experienced during the last few years. There is nothing but respect, admiration and gratitude for the Queen of Rock & Roll. One of the most distinct voices on radio and one of the most dynamic performers on the stage. Musicians and fans alike revered her. An old girlfriend of mine even went as Tina Turner for Halloween once. She’s Asian. One of Tina’s songs I’ll always remember is “Private Dancer”.

Listening to the track for the first time in decades, I’m enthralled by Turner’s vocal range – going from those low sultry notes in the verses to hitting those high notes in the chorus with vigor and ferocity. The song was written by Mark Knopfler, but he decided it couldn’t be sung by a male – so Dire Straits took a pass. “Private Dancer” wasn’t written for Tina Turner, but somehow it seems just right for her vocals. Here’s to a great song. Here’s to a legend.

“Deutsche Marks or dollars, American Express will do nicely, thank you.”

"SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT" NIRVANA (1991)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Nirvana certainly suffers from that spell of commercialization that covers up just how pivotal they were as a cultural phenomenon. They were, in fact, the band that made an outsider music genre palatable for the masses. Their album covers – especially Nevermind – were the stuff of college dorm posters. And the smiley face t-shirt is ubiquitous. With the resurgence of 90’s rock music, it is kinda cool seeing kids latch on to bands like Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins. Just this week at my daughter’s concert, a three-piece band (hello Kurt, David and Krist) played “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and I felt like I died and went to heaven.

“Smells Like Teen Spirit” suffers from being probably the band’s most overplayed song. This has diminished the genius of the song. It rocks – and every element is absolutely iconic, the drums, the bass, and every single guitar hook. But it’s the lyrics that put the song in a whole separate class. This was my soundtrack – or at least a decent portion of it – to my freshman year in college. It was fun, rebellious and angry – and everyone from metalheads to alt rock fans got into it. “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was the great equalizer.

“With the lights out, it's less dangerous. Here we are now, entertain us. I feel stupid, and contagious. Here we are now, entertain us.”

"ASHES OF AMERICAN FLAGS" WILCO (2002)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

One of my favorite Wilco songs happens to reside on an album full of outstanding tracks. On Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, “Ashes Of American Flags” falls on the more languid side of the spectrum, a change of pace from the “I’m The Man Who Loves You”, “Heavy Metal Drummer” and “War On War” type-fare. The song’s identity is steeped in that unique Wilco maneuver of pairing super simple melodies with unexpected, experimental musings, which is why I love it so much.

The words on this song feel like a stream of consciousness. I can’t quite follow or make sense of Tweedy’s lyrics. But it seems to work despite that fact. The lyrical ambiguity matches the instrumental approach of starting with simple guitar strums and drumbeats before these elements are taken over briefly and unexpectedly by an alien-like arrangement at the 2:26 mark. Wilco has become so good at this that whenever another band tries to do something similar it just feels fabricated and fake. “Ashes Of American Flags” is the real thing.

“I could spend three dollars and sixty-three cents On Diet Coca-Cola and unlit cigarettes.”

"THUNDER ROAD" BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN (1975)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Songs that are covered by several legendary acts are few in and far between. “Thunder Road” is one of those rarities, a song that was also recorded by Tori Amos, Cowboy Junkies, Phish and Melissa Etheridge. It’s also spotlighted in Nick Hornby’s book, “31 Songs”. All this to say, it’s as clear as day that the opening track to Born To Run is absolutely revered by both musicians and fans alike.

I heard that “Thunder Road” started as a bit of an unwieldy affair, like its hinges are a bit loose. This prompted the producer to ask Springsteen and the band to streamline the sound a bit. Thankfully, this didn’t seem to diminish the song at all. “Thunder Road” is a full song, a rocker with unforgettable lyrics that was born out of combining sketches of multiple songs into one seamless track. Bruce’s vocals, as the often are, feel like he’s pushing himself to the max, and so do all the instrumental elements, including the piano, harmonica and sax. “Thunder Road” hits like thunder.

“They haunt this dusty beach road
On the skeleton frames of burned out Chevrolets.”

"MAN ON THE MOON" R.E.M. (1992)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

There was plenty of buzz going around about the new R.E.M. record. Up until that point, the band had already recorded several landmark albums. But the most recent one “Out of Time” was considered sub-par by their own lofty standards. Automatic For The People was a significant return to form, widely considered to be one of their best – resolutely R.E.M. even with its wide commercial appeal. Pulling that off was quite a feat in itself. And “Man On The Moon” is one of its many standouts.

R.E.M. is in their sweet spot here. Mid-tempo, jangly pop with non-pop lyrics. Substitute Stipe for another lead vocalist, and it’s just not the same song anymore. His unique sound gives the track its character, from the verse’s doldrums to the yearning chorus refrain. Midway, Peter Buck’s guitar solo teases the listener with a potentially monstrous guitar riff that becomes suddenly subdued and snuffed out by Stipe’s vocals. And I just love how the song ends. So perfectly R.E.M. down to the last, somewhat abrupt note.

“Let's play Twister, let's play Risk, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.”

"THE QUEEN IS DEAD" THE SMITHS (1986)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Any time is a good time for The Queen Is Dead. But with Andy Rourke’s passing, I think it’s important to remember and celebrate how integral both he and Mike Joyce were to the sound of The Smiths. They were the engine room. Johnny Marr has commented on how significant a music moment it was when he first heard Rourke play the bass line for this title track from my favorite Smiths album. I felt the same way the first time I heard it.

It is an album opener that makes other album openers seem so inadequate. “The Queen Is Dead” kicks off with the sample from “Take Me Back To Dear Old Blighty”. It was magnificent. Before long, Mike Joyce launches a barrage on the drum set and Andy Rourke creates a slinging, cutting bass line, both of which make you hate yourself for ever thinking The Smiths were all about Morrissey and Marr. They’re all firing on all cylinders here. And this title track sounds like nothing else that we’ve heard before. It’s luring us in. And our lives are never the same again because this is The Queen Is Dead.

"I say, Charles, don't you ever crave To appear on the front of the Daily Mail
Dressed in your Mother's bridal veil?"

"MY OWN WAY" DURAN DURAN (1982)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

When I was 9 or 10 years old, a teenaged family friend played an album for my younger brother and I in his basement. That album was Rio. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was a pivotal moment in my discovery of music. Most fans don’t think of Rio as album rock mainly because it contained monster hits and music videos in the title track, “Hungry Like The Wolf” and “Save A Prayer”. But this friend of ours didn’t draw our attention to these obvious tracks. He pointed to the depth of the album, and specifically called out the sublime beauty of “The Chauffeur” and the fan-favorite banger “My Own Way”.

Is there a better way to describe this track than disco-tinged new wave banger? I don’t believe so. It’s a collision of worlds. That old late seventies sound of Japan and Roxy Music fueling our beloved Track 2 with one of John Taylor’s finest bass lines (and there are a lot of them). The lesser celebrated Taylors – Andy and Roger – do their thing with some unconventional, seemingly off-key guitar chords and a Brit rock barrage on the drum set. Nick’s synth hooks as always aren’t overdone. Shimmery and perfectly occupying the treble range. And Simon sings with a swagger that makes him the dynamic frontman he is. “Cause I’ve got my own way, ay-yee ay-yee ay-yee ay-yee ay-yee ay-yee ay-yee.”

“I'm on 45tH between 6th and Broadway. 7-UP between Sixth and Broadway.”

"BONES" RADIOHEAD (1995)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Music fans have mostly heralded the originality and ambition of OK Computer and Kid A over all the other incredible Radiohead albums. OK Computer is one of my favorite albums of all time, no doubt. But it’s not even my favorite Radiohead record. That distinction belongs to The Bends. I love innovation just like any semi-serious music fan, but at the end of the day, I just want a great collection of bangers. Like the first six studio albums from Zeppelin, The Bends is an album built on monster guitar riffs, not monster ambitions. There’s not a weak link in the bunch. “Street Spirit (Fade Out)”, “Fake Plastic Trees” and “(Nice Dream)” are perhaps the most well known songs on the tracklist, but “Bones” is one of those that makes me wish Radiohead would keep rocking out a little more.
How about Jonny’s guitar chops on this one? On “Bones”, this makes me think of all the kids out there who want to play guitar. I think most of them want to play like Jonny. Thrashing, screeching and motoring his way across a three-minute piece de resistance. Everything else rides on this monster wave, that grooving bass line and Thom’s vocals that fluctuate from straight-ahead underground to falsetto in the heavens. “Bones” is the kid in Thom, Jonny, Ed, Colin and Philip jamming in the garage because there’s nothing remotely better to do with their time.

“Now I can't climb the stairs. Pieces missing everywhere. Prozac painkillers. When you've got to feel it in your bones.”

"KODACHROME" PAUL SIMON (1972)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Thanks to countless yearbook write-ups, one of the most quoted songs of all time belongs to Paul Simon. “Kodachrome” took a friendly, lighthearted approach to rebellion. And musically, Simon was also his same rebellious self on this track. Daring to cross genres. Daring to even defy them. With every percussive beat. With every uplifting note. Sounds a lot like the Simon & Garfunkel canon – like a continuation of those musical and lyrical themes, standing in stark contrast to his world music-influenced solo work that would manifest in the eighties with Graceland.

“When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school, It's a wonder I can think at all. And though my lack of education hasn't hurt me none, I can read the writing on the wall.”

“MONEY" PINK FLOYD (1973)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Dark Side of The Moon has triggered very polarizing reactions to it. On one end of the spectrum, fans consider it to be the holy grail of prog rock converging with jazz. On the other end, a sizable population of music fans think it’s grossly overrated. I lean toward the first end simply because I don’t think there’s anything else like it. What’s great about it? Plenty. There’s the creative ingenuity first and foremost, which is prominent in the unconventional song structures, the improvisational nature of the instrumental solos, and the new dimension of sound design and effects.To the naysayers, I say this.You might not like the sound of it, but you have to recognize the magntiude of creativity of Dark Side. Like a Pet Sounds, Aja, Psychocandy or OK Computer, it sounds like nothing that came before it. Just take a listen to “Money” if you don’t believe me.

While “Money” belongs in the annals of classic rock history, the song seems to be more at home inside a tiny jazz club than a stadium. The track begins with the iconic sound of the cash register. This is genius, not gimmick. There was no established template telling rock bands this was the way to kick off a song. This is the ingenuity of Pink Floyd from the very first second of the track. Next, the bass line kicks in, one of the most memorable ones ever crafted. You don’t have to be a rock fan to instantly recognize it. But I think what brings “Money” over the edge is the combination of sax and guitar work. Trippy psychedelic guitar licks during the verses surround the sax solo that improvises in the gaps. Like I said, rock seamlessly blended with jazz. And like any good jazz outfit, one solo leads to another. The song’s climax is Gilmour’s guitar solo exploding greedily for nearly half the song.

“I'm in the high-fidelity first-class traveling set, And I think I need a Lear jet.”

"REBEL YELL" BILLY IDOL (1983)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Time keeps ticking. Years go by. Yet, an eighties hard rock / new wave blend icon like Billy Idol has managed to stay relevant and evolve. Last year, he and longtime collaborator Steve Stevens did a live performance of “Eyes Without A Face” for SiriusXM. The rendition was priceless and has garnered millions of views. Stripped down and reworked with a little flamenco flair, somehow the song was still 100% Billy Idol. Few artists have been able to pull off that level of staying power. Still, Billy’s reign of the eighties is what matters most. And “Rebel Yell” might be the epitome of that era.

The Billy Idol snarl and howl is ever present on this title track. The Billy Idol blend of hard rock and new wave is also ever present – from the monster guitar riffs that turbo-charge the verses and chorus to the synth accents that occupy the treble range. “Rebel Yell” is a clinic on doing it the Billy Idol way. It’s a powerful reminder that he wasn’t just a fixture on the eighties music scene. In many ways, he also helped shape it.

“I live in my own heaven. I collect it to go at the 7-11.”

"JESUS OF SUBURBIA" GREEN DAY (2004)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Super simple song structures. Basic three-piece layering. What Green Day may lack in terms of instrumental complexity they more than make up with Billy Joe Armstrong’s lyrical prowess. Truly an underrated songwriter, the Green Day frontman is the writer of two critically acclaimed rock operas. I’ve covered other songs from American Idiot on Mental Jukebox, and now’s the time to pick one more.

If “Jesus of Suburbia” feels somewhat constrained musically, maybe it’s because it’s solely based on four chords. Fortunately, the sonics help, particularly with Armstrong’s guitar riffs throughout the track. But, like most Green Day songs, the best part is the words. The character known as the Jesus of Suburbia seems not too far fetched. The lyrics paint a picture of a suburban antagonist through three movements – from angsty to idyllic to angsty once again over the course of nine glorious minutes.

“I'm the son of rage and love. The Jesus of Suburbia. The bible of none of the above On a steady diet of Soda pop and Ritalin.”

"LIFE IN A NORTHERN TOWN" THE DREAM ACADEMY (1985)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

The Dream Academy is rarely mentioned among the great British synth-pop bands of the eighties. But they made more than just a splash via the Ferris Bueller’s Day Off soundtrack (“The Edge Of Forever” and their Smiths cover “Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want”) and this top ten hit, “Life In A Northern Town”. Their sound was bright, ethereal and dream-like. And there’s really no other band quite like them.

“Life In A Northern Town” was their U.S. breakthrough. This is most likely due to the catchy and unforgettable “hey ma ma ma ma” chant. It’s that radio-friendly hook that made the song a staple. It was just the sort of thing that was easily loved, but then reached a saturation point pretty quickly. It wasn’t until more than two decades after the single was released that I learned the song was an elegy for Nick Drake. This only increased my admiration for the song as 1985 was well before most of the world uncovered the great folk annals of Nick Drake’s music.

“A Salvation Army band played. And the children drank lemonade. And the morning lasted all day.”

"HASH PIPE" WEEZER (2001)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

The broad range of sound from Weezer never really occurred to me until the day I finally saw them live in 2018, a double billing with the Pixies. That was the night I saw how they turned to more pop sensibilities in recent years with songs like “Feels Like Summer”, which I never realized was a Weezer song. It was also the night I got to revel in the older, rock stuff, like “Say It Ain’t So”, “Undone – The Sweater Song”, “My Name Is Jonas” and “Hash Pipe”.

This song feels so old to me that I thought it came out in the nineties. The harsh, guitar-driven sound certainly feels like it was a product of that decade. Released as a single just five months before 9/11, “Hash Pipe” is a reminder that Weezer rocks it hard. It comes at us full force like Godzilla – standing in stark contrast to the other big track from the same album, “Island In The Sun”. River Phoenix’s falsetto reach on lead vocals is unforgettable. But it’s that crunchy, monster guitar riff makes it the phenomenal rock song that it is.

“I can't love my business If I can't get a trick
Down on Santa Monica where tricks are for kids.”

"THE BOYS OF SUMMER" DON HENLEY (1984)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Like the Dude in The Big Lebowski, I never was a fan of The Eagles. But as an 80’s kid, the solo work of Don Henley and Glenn Frey are permanently etched into my childhood. Frey’s “The Heat Is On” and “You Belong To The City” ruled movie and television show soundtracks. Henley made some noise of his own – with “All She Wants To Do Is Dance” and, more notably, “The Boys Of Summer”.

It’s been many years since the last time I heard this song. Coming back to it, I have a renewed appreciation for the songwriting craft. Henley wrote the lyrics, but the music was composed by Mike Campbell from Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Every important music institution from the Grammys to Pitchfork agree that “The Boys Of Summer” is a fantastic song. Together, the song’s opening snare rim clicks and synth riff created one of the best song intros of the 80’s. But what makes the song so good – even after all these years – are Henley’s lyrics and the guitar work.

“Out on the road today I saw a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac. A little voice inside my head said, ‘Don't look back, you can never look back’.”

"RED BARCHETTA" RUSH (1981)

This month on Twitter, @sotachetan hosts #BrandedInSongs – which is a head-on collision of my personal world of music and my professional world of branding and advertising. The challenge is to simply pick a song with a brand name in its lyrics or title. I added one more criteria to my picks, which is this: the songs themselves must be as iconic as the brands they mention. No filler here.

Growing up, every Rush album cover I gazed at was epic and teased the promise of something equally epic happening inside. One of the albums that I’ve played from beginning to end incessantly was Moving Pictures. In the streaming age, this ritual has lost its luster a bit, as I’ve ended up playing its individual tracks probably more often than the entire LP. But in recent years, this has only helped reinforce how much each of these songs mean to me — and none more so than “Red Barchetta”. A song that both the cool and uncool kids in my elementary school could all agree on.

“Tom Sawyer” had swagger. “YYZ” had prowess. “Limelight” had melody. But “Red Barchetta” had heart. About a joy ride turned car chase, it had all the musical trappings to further the narrative — from Peart’s cymbal crashes to Lee’s adrenaline-fueled vocals. One of my favorite Alex Lifeson guitar solos happens at the 3:20 mark. Often overshadowed by Lee’s bass playing skills and Peart’s prowess on drums, Lifeson more than held his own on “Red Barchetta”, a song that carries with it so much nostalgia.

“I strip away the old debris That hides a shining car. A brilliant red Barchetta From a better vanished time.”