My Top 100, No. 1: "Hard Way Home" by Brandi Carlile

Somehow Brandi Carlile was a thing for about six years before I found out about her. Nobody told me, and I'm still holding a grudge against everyone I know because of it.

I came across "The Story" about two years ago, and having enjoyed that, I turned on what was then her latest album, Bear Creek, and at this point in my music-consuming life, Bear Creek inhabits almost precisely the point in space where I want to be.

My Top 100, No. 2: "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)" by Arcade Fire

I didn't like Arcade Fire that much when Funeral first came out. This was high school contrarianism talking--my friends who were, like, really into Arcade Fire tended to like whatever Pitchfork (it might not have literally been Pitchfork, but it was probably literally Pitchfork) told them to and I felt like pushing back against an externally imposed orthodoxy. 

After 10 years, four albums, a Grammy, a backlash, and a backlash to the backlash, it's hard to remember Arcade Fire representing anything new, particularly when it feels like a lot of the reasons not to like Arcade Fire have less to do with the band itself and more to do with people who like the band, or with other bands that were inspired or enabled by Arcade Fire's success. But we were all young once.

My Top 100, No. 3: "Reptilia" by The Strokes

All along I've been making the distinction between my liking a song subjectively and thinking the song is great objectively. And because I have, I can say this, even though I'm only ranking "Reptilia" third.

 

"Reptilia" is the best rock-and-roll song written and released in my lifetime, probably the best in any genre of popular music, and possibly the greatest piece of music released in any Western genre in that time. Its only fault is that because time itself is linear the song does not extend forever.

My Top 100, No. 4: "Freedom '90" by George Michael

I've got an intellectual appreciation for so many of these songs, but "Freedom '90" is just so much the fuckin' jam it makes me regret wearing out the phrase "the fuckin' jam" on so many lesser songs throughout this project.

A while back, a friend of mine moved away for a year and started showing up in Facebook pictures with a girl, whom he never said anything about until he got back. When asked who she was, he just giggled nervously and said, "Well, she's the light of my life." And that's pretty much how I feel about "Freedom '90," as songs go.

My Top 100, No. 5: "Make Our Garden Grow" by Leonard Bernstein

"Make Our Garden Grow" was the second movement of my high school's marching band show when I was a sophomore, and boy oh boy is it so much better with an orchestra and a choir than with a high school marching band.

I have the same problem picking apart Bernstein as Beethoven--this is way more complex than, say, a Gwen Stefani song, and I just don't play on that level. So I'll do the best I can to explain why I like this song so much.

My Top 100, No. 6: "Steal My Sunshine" by Len

This song has gone down, upon 16 years' reflection, as something of a joke, and by accepting that label, we do ourselves an unfathomably grave disservice.

"Steal My Sunshine" is a historical relic, a portal through which we can look back at the moment of greatest potential in American history, and wonder what life would be like if we hadn't thrown it all away.

My Top 100, No. 7: "Waltz #2 (XO)" by Elliott Smith

This song is slow and dark and it is a jam. I mean, it is not a jam, per se, but it is a fuckin' jam.

First of all, it's in 3/4. Because it's a waltz, you see. And waltzes are in 3/4.