Maestropolis, Continued.

Disc Two:

01. Wilco “I’m the Man Who Loves You”
That spastic, stuttering guitar opening is, I think, the best possible way to open a disc. If we must have guitars, let them stammer. The saxophones and other assorted brass are pretty kickass, too. It’s just a great song. From the Nonesuch LP Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, 2002.

02. The Music “Take the Long Road and Walk It”
They didn’t pan out over an album, or indeed for another three minutes, but in the space of this song, the Music almost live up to their ridiculous name. Baggy Stone Roses beats, U2ish rise-and-ebb dynamics, a yelping British frontman who can actually hit a note, and Zepplin-fondling guitars (especially when they break out the bottleneck slide at the end), for once, add up to a track as cool as that makes it sound. From the Hut LP The Music, 2002.

02. Interpol “NYC”
It was just after 9/11. America was gearing up for Iraq. There was a vague possibility, to someone who spent time on the paranoid left of the Internet, that we might actually go to war with France. In that context, Joy Division rumblings with Smiths atmospherics and the line “the subway is a porno” made perfect sense. From the Matador LP Turn on the Bright Lights, 2002.

04. Beck “Sunday Sun”
I’d never really listened to Beck before this. Sure, I’d heard “Loser” and “Where It’s At,” but I hadn’t really listened to them; they seemed to share sonic space with Sugar Ray and those guys who did “How Bizarre.” But with Nick Drake arrangements and a mumbled baritone, suddenly Beck was personal. I think of this song as sunshine pop for manic-depressives. From the Geffen/Interscope LP Sea Change, 2002.

05. Ivy “Edge of the Ocean”
I don’t remember how I heard of Ivy, or what made me think it would be a good idea to check them out. But I fell in love with this song, or perhaps with the idea of what this song seems to say: fall in love with a French woman and head out towards the beach. The northern beach, for preference; the trip-hop backing is pretty chilly. From the Bitter Sweet LP Long Distance, 2001.

06. 16 Horsepower “Flutter”
The piano stabs like a clumsy serial killer; the guitar picks so softly you can barely hear it, like some dread thing scratching at the door. And yet the scariest thing in the song is when all the instruments die and the indie version of a high lonesome croon says “all our colors agree … in the dark.” From the Jetset LP Folklore, 2002.

07. Supergrass “Grace”
So of course we need a pick-me-up now, and who better than the boys who’ve taken all the friendliest parts of the the Kinks, T. Rex, the Buzzcocks, and Blur, and just want to urge you to save your money for your children? I defy you not to grin to this song. From the Parlophone LP Life on Other Planets, 2002.

08. Marianne Faithfull “I’m on Fire”
Everything she does is full of interest, and this wasn’t even my favorite song from this album, but it’s got Billy Corgan’s nasal whine on backing vocals, so of course I had to include it. To be fair, I can’t really imagine any other song here at this point. It’s a glossy, studio soufflé — it would fall at a breath. From the EMI LP Kissin Time, 2002.

09. Steve Earle “Amerika 6.0 (The Best That We Can Do)”
This remains about the only Steve Earle track I’ve ever gotten to know well. And somehow it feels like the only one I need; its combination of righteous country-rock swagger and outraged indictment of establishments everywhere makes me wary; surely anything else couldn’t be as good? Special bonus: he quotes T. Rex on the outro. From the Artemis LP Jerusalem, 2002.

10. The Libertines “The Good Old Days”
They were my favorite working band, and this song is the reason why. From the Rough Trade UK LP Up the Bracket, 2002.

11. The Flaming Lips “In the Morning of the Magicians”
Funny story. I fell in love with this song thinking it was “Do You Realize?” because some schmuck on KaZaA had mislabled his mp3s. Then I heard “Do You Realize.” I like this better; it just seems more Lippy to me. From the Warner Bros. LP Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, 2002.

12. Sam Phillips “Wasting My Time”
I listened to Sam Phillips when she was Leslie Phillips; I thought she was a badass hard-rocker. (I was ten.) She’s still badass, even with just a string quartet behind her. The quality of her voice makes me think, for no reason I can pinpoint, of Madeline L’Engle. This is a compliment. From the Nonesuch LP Fan Dance, 2001.

13. Paul Weller “Written on the Wind”
I’d never gotten into the Sex Pistols, and the Clash were too generally revered. The Jam became my favorite punk band by default, because the Kinks were my favorite British Invasion band. Paul Weller’s solo career has been hit-and-miss since, but this song is a perfect slice of his neo-soul-psychedelia dadrock. With a Booker T. sample, yet. From the Independiente LP Illumination, 2002.

14. Johnny Cash “Personal Jesus”
It was Solitary Man, the previous record, that buried deep within me, with its gallows-humor version of Nick Cave’s “The Mercy Seat” and its dignity-in-the-gutter reading of blackface vaudevillian Bert Williams’s “Nobody.” In comparison, this is tossed-off, just a fun, Deltafied run-through of an Eighties-Night staple. In retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t choose “Hurt” instead. From the American LP American IV: The Man Comes Around, 2002.

15. Bryan Ferry “Hiroshima”
Radiohead was still one of my favorite bands when I picked this because that’s Johnny Greenwood doing the guitar explosions behind Ferry’s ageless croon. And then Ultravox’s “Hiroshima Mon Amour” gets referenced, and it’s all magnificently downhill from there. From the EMI LP Frantic, 2002.

16. Tom Waits “I’m Still Here”
Another one of those short songs that gets picked to round out a disc, this is also perhaps one the most simply beautiful songs in Waits’ catalogue. When he reaches for that high note, it’s enough to move me to tears; but perhaps that’s because the album is one of my all-time favorites. From the Anti- LP Alice, 2002.

17. The Coral “Shadows Fall”
Many of these songs seem to have dropped onto the list because a new British band was being hailed in the British press as the Greatest Thing Ever. I would give it a listen, and decide I liked it. When I used to play this at work, my co-worker would always look up and grin, “Pirates!” From the Deltasonic LP The Coral, 2002.

18. Pulp “The Trees”
The last Pulp single, frothy and “organic” (that word must have been in the press-release package) and kind of orchestral, but still totally wicked, romantic pop. I don’t really love this song, but it feels right to have Pulp represented on such a disc. Good placement, too. From the Island LP We Love Life, 2001.

19. Peter Gabriel “Signal to Noise”
Nusrat Fateh Ali Kahn’s last Western recording, apparently. It’s a good one, too; he jumps from note to note with the speed and grace of a cat. Oh, and there’s some white guy going on about something over a bunch of electronic pomp and circumstance, too. But this song is all about the Nus-man. From the Geffen LP Up, 2002.

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