The Best Thirty Songs of the Decade

A great song can reverberate in our consciousness upon demand; we can not only recall the lyrics, but we can hear the song during the business or silence of our lives. In that same spirt, the following songs represent the finest achievements in popular music during the past decade; many of these songs will likely remain canonical, even among the shards from the collapse of our listening monoculture, and will be enjoyed for years to come, listen after listen. Over the next month, The D Man will unveil the Best Thirty Songs of the Decade, as the Aughts, or whatever we decide to call this decade, comes to a close.

Words. Stories. Refrains. Instruments and voices. Melodies and arrangements. The following are songs in their most basic sense, and all are well worth listening to on their own merits, their own tangible sense of being. Nevertheless, some songs on this list have been imbued with greater cultural resonance due to their interaction with the listening public in a wide variety of ways. Indeed, certain songs took flight by means the artist never imagined. As a result, they have thrust their way into inclusion by the shear force of their relevance.

The D Man attempted to be objective and democratic, but is also aware of the limitations of this type of exercise. Despite these difficulties, the following songs (and artists) must be included in any legitimate discussion of the decade's great music, lyrics, and songcraft. No artist is featured more than once, except for Sufjan Stevens and Radiohead, which is an intentional liberty taken by the list's curator, as they are arguably the two preeminent artists of the decade, and, admittedly, constantly vying for The D Man's fondest affection. Furthermore, some songs come in pairs, another liberty that seemed necessary at the time, and, presumably, will serve its intended purpose.

Please let The D Man know which songs you love, which songs you hate (although, hopefully, appreciate), and which songs should have been included. Before you do, please consider this: we have but one life, and cannot listen to everything. If we choose to listen, and I believe we must, as it allows us to enjoy or contemplate our mortality and prepares us for that final change that is universal, what shall we listen to? The songs on my list represent an attempt to answer this question. And since you value life and what you listen to enough to take part in this undertaking, that ultimately can expand your consciousness in ways that perhaps only reading can rival (and even trump), I thank you for your participation.

Indeed, perhaps music's prime concern, like reading, is to, in the words of Samuel Johnson, discover "what comes near to ourself, what we can put to use." We may likewise apply Sir Francis Bacon's solemn recommendation for reading to the realm of music: "[Listen] to not contradict and confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to find talk or discourse, but to weigh and consider." Finally, we may say as Emerson did of the best books, that the best songs "impress us with the conviction, that one nature wrote and the same nature [listens]." Pragmatically, all of this means the following: learn to listen deeply, not to believe, not to accept, not to contradict, but to learn to share in that one nature that sings and listens.

1. "Idioteque" by Radiohead (2000)

The sound of the world running, falling, cascading into the twenty-first century. A millenial masterpiece. There is no artist or group of artists that could replicate this song, let alone approach the strangeness of its aesthetic. Fill a room with the world's greatest lyricists, musicians, and beatmakers, and rest assured they would not come out with a song so exciting, so depressing, so listenable, so danceable, so devastating.

No other song united (and divided) throngs of musicheads more than "Idioteque." For many listeners between the ages of say 21-38, they haven't lived until they've heard this song performed live (yours truly included). Live, you say? Yes, it can be done. The song's spectral power is like watching human mediums channel sounds from some other world. Or maybe the future. Potent, strange, and altogether brilliant.

To this day, The D Man is still trying to figure out how the best guitar band of the Nineties was capable of conceiving and producing this song (and many others for that matter). The only answer: genius. Not genius like "That Star Trek film was genius," or genius like "That funny Youtube clip is genius." But bona-fide, of-the-ages genius. Like Shakespeare. Monet. Mozart. The kind of genius that demands a cognitive power greater than our own.

Women and children first. I laugh until my head comes off. Ice age coming. Let me hear both sides. Take the money and run. Never have such perfectly oblique non-sequiturs been set to such a chilling and moving musical backdrop. The pulsating lynchpin to the decade's most important album, "Idioteque" just may be the sound of the twenty-second century if we ever get there.

Album version:


Studio version:


Live version:


Why listen? We listen, if not frequently and often unknowingly, to find a mind more original than our own. Radiohead is that musical consciousness. This decade the band deconstructed the ego on Kid A and then reinvented the human on In Rainbows. Because "Idioteque" will expand your consciousness by the shear force of its apocalyptic sound and vision, you should listen. To not recognize the astonishing inventiveness of this song is a complete failure to participate in that one nature that sings and listens.

Something else? "There, There," "15 Step," "Weird Fishes/Arpeggi," "All I Need," "Videotape."

2. "Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes (2003)

Since 2000, no one has reinvigorated the tired notion of rock'n'roll more than Jack White. Our favorite Stripe has given us more authentic, steeped-in-blues, gut-busting rock'n'roll songs than any other artist this decade. Don't believe The D Man? Check out the following starter kit:

• "Fell In Love With A Girl"
• "Dead Leaves And The Dirty Ground"
• "Ball and Biscuit"
• "The Hardest Button to Button"
• "Blue Orchid"
• "My Doorbell"
• "Icky Thump"
• "Bone Broke"
• "Rag and Bone"

No song personifies The White Stripe's prolific downpour more than "Seven Nation Army." Equipped with the best guitar shred of the past ten years, this song battles with rock'n'roll gods, be it in Witchita or at Hells Gate.

Why listen? Real simple. The best guitar line + the best rock vocal = the best rock song of the decade. Can anyone really argue with this? "Seven Nation Army" overcomes the anxiety of tired rock tropes by reformulating the same rock tropes into something potent, thanks to the imaginative consciousness of a master of the genre.

Something else? I suppose you could listen to your old man's Foghat collection.

3. "Carry Me Ohio" by Sun Kil Moon (2003)

Mark Kozelek, formerly of the Red House Painters, explored the haunting, the beautiful, and the elegiac on his magnificent album Ghosts of the Great Highway. His music with Sun Kil Moon is rich, lyrical, evocative, and nostalgic, the shimmering tapestries of an Ohio fall. Kozelek moves listeners to contemplate their own solitude, even if later revelations take them to another time, another place.

Ghosts of the Great Highway weaves through several songs about deceased boxers: gone-too-soon featherweight champion Salvador Sanchez, legendary flyweight Pancho Villa, and the tragic Duk Koo Kim. (That song is a breathtaking 14 minutes, the number of rounds Kim lasted in his final bout). Moon Sung Kil is a Korean bantamweight (hence the name) and the album's opening song begins with a confession of boxers, Judas Priest guitarists, and old actors and singers:

Cassius Clay was hated

More than Sonny Liston

Some like K.K. Downing

More than Glenn Tipton

Some like Jim Nabors

Some Bobby Vinton

I like'em all

That same magnanimity is present throughout Kozelek's distinctive catalog, albeit in an oft-melancholy form; indeed, Kozelek has recorded several fantastic covers albums, including releases devoted entirely to the songs of AC/DC and Modest Mouse.

One of the fathers of so-called slowcore, Kozelek's love of music's raw and poetic power finds its way into his deep introspection and gorgeously rendered guitarwork. His singular songcraft is worthy of our affection and his status as one of our finest songwriters is all but assured. (Cameron Crowe is such a huge fan, not only did he include the songs in his movies, he put Kozelek in the movies as well, with roles in Almost Famous and Vanilla Sky.

On Ghosts of the Great Highway's second track, "Carry Me Ohio" recalls former loves: a person and a place. The song marries the two memories and reinforces its powerful ambiguity as the listener is never certain whether the narrator longs for lover or home. (Our singer grew up in Ohio). Kozelek's signature voice, singing over layered and intricate classical-guitar and open-tuned arrangements, rises and falls with the penultimate plea: "Heal her soul, carry her, my little Ohio." The words, half-way submerged in the music's dense soundscape, slowly reveal themselves, mimicking the fleeting, hazy nature of memory.

Why listen? Mark Kozelek is the most sublime traditionalist of the decade. Kozelek's patient, nuanced, and introspective arrangements allow his poetic voice to resonate in the profound. His music, and "Carry Me Ohio" in particular, compels listeners to consider their mortality, and in some small way, moves us to become more wholly ourselves.

Something else? "Glenn Tipton," "Gentle Moon," "Salvador Sanchez," "The Last Tide," "Pancho Villa," "Lost Verses," "Moorestown," "Blue Orchids."

4. "Olsen Olsen" by Sigur Ros (2001)

One of this decade's most original voices, Iceland's Sigur Ros established their near-mythic status with their second album, Agaetis Byrjun. Released in the United States in 2001, the album introduced listeners to sounds they could not have imagined: lush, ambient post-rock orchestration helmed by lead singer Jonsi Birgisson's otherworldly vocals and cello-bowed guitarwork. The band further moved listeners' conception of music and language on third album ( ) when every song was recorded in Vonlenska or "Hopelandic," a form of gibberish focusing on the melodic and rhythmic elements of music without the content of understandable language.

With songs that seem to reinvent the natural world, how does one distinguish between Sigur Ros' best musical moments? The task is nearly impossible. It's like asking someone if he likes dawn better than twilight, trees better than flowers, air better than water. Nonetheless, The D Man will attempt to offer some guidance, and ultimately, choose his personal favorite, despite the fact that this list has attempted to showcase the best in popular music, rather than be a mere love letter from yours truly. But when Mother Nature herself is sending the sweet-nothings, it's difficult to stay focused.

A listener might rightfully consider "Staralfur" or "Svefn-g-englar" as the band's finest songs. Indeed, both are from Agaetis Byrjun, both are unlike anything we've heard before, and both were used to great affect in movies and videos. Of course, one would have a hard time arguing over your choice of the title track too.

Perhaps you speak in tongues and the beauty of "Untitled #1" and "Untitled #4" from ( ) are your favored choice. Or maybe you prefer the band's full-bodied efforts on Takk, the band's somewhat underrated fourth album. Indeed, it's hard to complain about the mesmerizing second and third tracks, respectively "Glosoli" and "Hoppipolla." Then again, the band's most recent release might suit your fancy. The verdant "Gobbledigook" or the heavenly "Festival" would not be out of the question.

For The D Man, "Olsen Olsen" typifies all that a great Sigur Ros song is supposed to be: otherwordly, beautiful, forlorn, epic. Birgisson's ethereal voice unfurls over a dreamy bass line and conjures up untold ages of men, ghosts, summers, winters, suns. The song transitions to a fully orchestrated conclusion, complete with swelling choirs, as if to say, "the first five minutes of this song were so good, we need to immediately celebrate it now." And so we should.

The album version (and fan video):

And a stunning live version in Iceland from the film Heima:

Why listen? "Olsen Olsen," like many Sigur Ros' songs, allows the Self to be augmented by the musical contemplation of Nature. No band created authentic soundscapes like Sigur Ros this decade (or in any other decade for that matter); the band collectively tapped into something elemental in our understanding of the way the planet is supposed to sound. The music's beauty, cognitive power, originality, and timelessness, will enhance every sincere listener's consciousness.

5. "Apartment Story" by The National (2007)

We're half awake in a fake empire. Somewhat chilling, thus begins the masterful Boxer. On opener "Fake Empire," a stark piano line moves into perfectly-timed drum fills and the song expands, like the rest of the album, into dark, groovy territory. Boxer is a masterpiece of early twenty-first century musical narrative--loosely-tied threads of love, loss, and dislocation. Lyrically and musically, Boxer's urban elegance shimmers in the streetlights, rewarding listen after listen with a rich, world-weary texture that can leave one bewildered and breathless. The album's sophisticated back-alley mix of chamber-pop, folk, and post-punk captures the perfect tone of modern city dreams.

"Mistaken For Strangers" reveals the sobering, friendless streets that we walk as adults; there was not a better song this decade (or album, for that matter) depicting the vagaries of the white-collar world.

You get mistaken for strangers by your own friends

when you pass them at night under the silvery, silvery citibank lights

arm in arm in arm and eyes and eyes glazing under

oh you you wouldn't want an angel watching over

surprise, surprise they wouldn't wanna watch

another uninnocent, elegant fall into the unmagnificent lives of adults

Given the decade of Enron, bear markets, and executive excess, The National's songs were timely and prescient. But if navigating the workplace was difficult, maintaining monogamous harmony was equally perilous.

"Start A War" details the quiet, earnest please of a broken relationship:

Whatever went away, I'll get it over again

I'll get money, I'll get funny again

Walk away now and you're gonna start a war

As one critic noted, Matt Berninger's characters toy with adulthood and dress for success, but they also grapple with near-paralyzing insecurity. Fortunately, it is the music's sublime assuredness, played in a deceptively subdued manner, that both underscores and alleviates the difficulties of the workplace and the bedroom. Strangely enough, it's out of this heavy context that the finest pop song of the decade was produced.

With its rolling drums and luxurious layer of guitars, "Apartment Story" sweeps up Berninger's perfect image of urban escape:

We'll stay inside till somebody finds us

Do whatever the TV tells us

Stay inside our rosy-minded fuzz for days

Like many of the band's songs, the narrative reflects the struggles of adult relationships.

Be still for a second while I try and try to pin your flowers on

Can you carry my drink I have everything else

I can tie my tie all by myself

I'm getting tied, I'm forgetting why

Yet it's the song's willingness to allow for the possibility of escape and connection that transcends into something universal.

Hold ourselves together with our arms around the stereo for hours

While it sings to itself or whatever it does

when it sings to itself of its long lost lost loves

I'm getting tied, I'm forgetting why

Tired and wired we ruin too easy

Sleep in our and clothes and wait for winter to leave

but I'll be with you behind the couch when they come

on a different day just like this one

Sophisticated, subtle, and beguiling, the song's vulnerable optimism builds to the splendid and repeated bridge-chorus. "Apartment Story" is proof that a four-minute pop song can resonate well beyond your living room walls. "So worry not / all things are well / we'll be alright / we have our looks and our perfume on."

Then there is the video, so wonderfully sweet and good-natured and, consistent with this list, one of the decade's best.

Why listen? "Apartment Story" actually gets better after dozens of listens. If the Beatles had written this song we would have been hearing incessantly about how great it is for the past forty years. But The D Man doubts that the Fab Four could have; unlike many bands, The National finally hit their creative stride well after growing up, working in real professions, and experiencing real relationships. "Apartment Story" is a product of having been part of the Establishment and then allowing that experience to color the song's imaginative (and escapist) power. Indeed, not everyone has to be a penniless, narrow-rounded vagabond on the way to making inspired music. The National's real-world experience, narratives, and musicianship is refreshing--and worthy of our appreciation.

Something else? "Slow Show," "Abel," "Secret Meeting," "All The Wine," "About Today."

BONUS: The band features two sets of brothers: Aaron and Bryce Dessner and Scott and Bryan Devendorf. That's pretty cool in The D Man's book. And Berninger and the Dessners played high school basketball together in Cincinnatti, Ohio. Ditto.

6. "Wake Up" by Arcade Fire (2004)

Four songs from Arcade Fire's debut Funeral have a legitimate claim on this spot: the strange apocalyptic snow-bound vision of "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)," the singular tenacity of "Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)," the majestic call of "Wake Up," or the effervescent pulse of "Rebellion (Lies)." Given each song's worthy merits and the difficult task in choosing just one, the final considerations included acknowledging the Mrs.' favorite ("Rebellion") and pointing out that a new recording of "Wake Up" was used in one of the best movie trailers in recent years. So it goes.

Combining the earnestness of Springsteen, the pageantry of Bowie, and the lyrical thrust of T.S. Eliot, Arcade Fire is that rare band that came on to the stage fully formed and actualized. Led by Win Butler's songwriting and its collective musicianship, the band's 2004 masterwork Funeral, an elegy of sorts to loved ones who passed away during its recording, is likely never to be approached again.

The four songs all share the same basic themes: youth overcoming the disenchantment of adulthood, truth shining through the lies of the world, love dispelling the dark heart of man, and the spirit overcoming the terrestrial restraints of the body. All four songs powerfully achieve their intended results with fierce lyrical prose, inventive chamber art-rock, and an overwhelming need to connect with the audience or something beyond the music. Ultimately, for the purposes of this list, The D Man kept coming back to one song and therefore will discuss the immense pleasures of the band's anthemic "Wake Up."

With its sweeping call to disregard the lies that are passed down by each generation, the song's narrative reaches an unparalleled climax.

If the children don't grow up,

our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.

We're just a million little gods causin' rain storms turnin' every good thing to rust.

I guess we'll just have to adjust.

The song then moves toward a mesmerizing shift into an exquisite coda, where we may consider the realization of our untapped potential in the face of death.

With my lightnin' bolts a glowin'

I can see where I am goin' to be

When the reaper he reaches and touches my hand.

With my lightnin' bolts a glowin'

I can see where I am goin'.

You better look out below.

"Wake Up" is essentially a more imaginative vision of Bruce Springsteen's "Born To Run." Influenced by Butler's religious upbringing about the untold possibilities of the spirit (he was raised in a part-Mormon family), Arcade Fire's song is a potent portrayal of our ability to love and evolve even in the throes of darkness.

Why listen? Arcade Fire is a serious band for serious listeners who seek, both lyrically and sonically, the weighing and considering that comes from music's communal contemplation. "Wake Up" does all this without sacrificing the primal elements of a great rock song.

Something else? "Keep the Car Running," "Laika," "Haiti," "Intervention," "No Cars Go."

7. "Everything In Its Right Place" by Radiohead (2000)

The first few notes will seduce and haunt listeners for years. As the opening track on Radiohead's 2000 album Kid A, "Everything In Its Right Place" is the deconstruction of rock music incarnate. Eschewing guitars and drums for an electric piano and drum machine, Thom Yorke manipulated his voice and changed the history of his band and the possibilities of post-modern music forever.

Struggling in the wake of the the band's worldwide success and the burden of the seminal rock album OK Computer, Thom Yorke and company finally made headway in the studio with the experimental recording of a series of songs that would ultimately become Kid A. "Everything In Its Right Place" represented the band's utter disregard for its previous work and an expansion into a musical consciousness that few have ever contemplated, let alone realized. Written late one night by Yorke on a piano at home and recorded the following day, "Everything In Its Right Place" allowed the band to leave behind their collective frustrations and grievances and move in an entirely new direction.

The song feels like the soundtrack to the opening lines of Yeats' poem "The Second Coming":

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Indeed, Yorke's repeated refrain is never believable. And his strange incantation--"Yesterday I woke up sucking a lemon"--perfectly describes and obscures an impending collapse signaled by the music's strange time signature and memorable, eerie keyboards.

One of the few songs consistently featured in Radiohead's set-lists, "Everything In Its Right Place" is a bellweather for not only Radiohead's future creative ouput, but all other serious bands that follow in the new millenium. In Radiohead's own impressive musical story, the song serves as a sonic cantilever of the band's willingness to build further and further away from the edge.


Why listen? "Everything In Its Right Place" is the opening track of the greatest post-rock record of all time. Rarely, if ever, has a band changed so drastically due to self-overhearing. Radiohead's evolution from OK Computer to Kid A represents the force of a band's self-augmentation due to overhearing its own musical dialogue with its peers and the public, but primarily, its previous creative ouput and internal conversations and expectations. This self-augmentation gave way to a creative consciousness that expanded into unheard of realms and altered the very essence of popular music. By deconstructing the rock album, favoring rhythm over melody, and experimenting with electronica, jazz, 20th Century classicism, Krautrock, and ambient music, Radiohead produced music and atmosphere that, while difficult to embrace initially (according to some), has resulted in an undiminished power with every passing year. "Everything In Its Right Place" is everything that is right with music, the creative mind, and their boundless possibilities.

Something else? "How to Disappear Completely," "Reckoner," "The National Anthem," "Bodysnatchers," "Jigsaw Falling Into Place."

8. "Heartbeats" by The Knife / Jose Gonzalez (2003)

Rarely does a song allow for two incomparable interpretations within such a short span of time. "Heartbeats" is a superb exception. The original is an icy, ominous recollection of love; the cover is a quiet, wistful rumination. The Knife's live version (below) is enveloped in metallic, hollowed-out electronic beats, a mysterious musical creation befitting the band's masked personas and cold Scandinavian influences. Jose Gonzalez's rendition, while played against his warmer acoustic backdrop, still elicits something forlorn and time-weary similar to its darker companion. Both songs make it clear that something intimate was shared: "we were in love."

To call for hands of above to lean on

Wouldn't be good enough for me, oh

And you, you knew the hand of a devil

And you kept us awake with wolves teeth

Sharing different heartbeats in one night

Why listen? "Heartbeats" is devastatingly original. The Knife's version uses its sonic framework and Karin Dreijer Andersson's striking (and almost alien) vocal performance to enlarge the song's cryptic lyrics into some sort of timeless love-rune. Jose Gonzalez's version settles on those same lyrics with an achingly insular portrayal of love and memory. The fact that so many argue the virtues of their preferred version is a testament that the song(s) is/are to be reckoned with. "Heartbeats" possesses an authentic and timeless quality matched by few other songs this decade.

9. "Fight Test" / "Do You Realize???" by The Flaming Lips (2002)

Essentially the bookends for The Flaming Lips' 2002 quasi-concept album Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, there was no better starter/closer combination this decade. As overproduced, overdramatic psyche-pop bliss-outs, "Fight Test" and "Do You Realize???" sealed The Flaming Lips popular canonization after the band's euphoria-inducing 1999 album, The Soft Bulletin. To hear these songs performed live during the growing legend of a Lips show became a vital musical experience. Even if it meant dressing up as a pink bunny.

It's hard to think of any recent band that has had a five-album run like The Flaming Lips, a run that is so evolved and varied, so unhesitant and adventurous. From alternative music touchstone Transmissions from the Satellite Heart to the fuzzed-guitar splendor of Clouds Taste Metallic; from the transcendental, psychedelic musings of The Soft Bulletin to the four-part player experiment Zaireeka to the bleeping drones of cosmic weary Yoshimi, The Flaming Lips developed into an authentic life-force all their own.

"Fight Test" is a universal call to arms. Or not. Walking the fine line between justice and mercy, even when it applies to evil robots, requires an introspective, hopeful, and sometimes regrettable self-evaluation. Indeed, the song's star-gazed soliloquy became a mantra of sorts for The D Man as he contemplated his own individual battles during the early part of this decade. The song seems to ask and (almost) answer all the right questions. And in a strange way, the song provides comfort to those who truly seek to know what's right for their own life. But it also reminds us that, ultimately, there are things you can't avoid--you have to face them when you're not prepared to face them. The test begins now.

A fount of humanistic triumphalism, "Do You Realize???" is the happiest, most celebratory song-of-death of all time. Voted into law as Oklahoma's official rock song, the song's sobering message is quite simple: all we have is now. So in the face of death, whether it be at the hands of pink robots or plain-old cancer, treat people right, live right, and let them know you realize.

Why listen? The Flaming Lips imaginative musical abilities are beyond reproach and surpassed most of their peers this decade with Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots--the band's first critical and truly commercial success. After three great psyche-rock albums that most bands would kill for, The Lips went even further and at the turn of the century produced one of the best albums of the Nineties (The Soft Bulletin) and one of the most pleasurable albums of this decade (Yoshimi). "Fight Test" and "Do You Realize" are the accessible musical capstones of the Lips' thematic cosmic creations. Their sound is distinctive yet universal, comforting yet soul-wrenching. Basically, these songs are the sound of your existence hurtling through space and time. And that sound is pretty good.
Something else? "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Part I," "Ego Tripping At The Gates of Hell," "One More Robot/Sympathy 3000-21."

10. "Float On" by Modest Mouse (2004)

With this rollicking existential sing-along, Modest Mouse reconfigured its recurring theme of death-in-life (perfected over several albums) and turned the ragged despair into a populist anthem that dares any listener to disagree or change the station. The song is truly Good News for People Who Love Bad News, as it suggests that, at the very least, "we will float on anyway." Not unlike Robert Frost's three-word summary of life: "it goes on." Yet, for some reason, our reading public generally fails to consider the "sigh" of that narrator remembering the two roads that diverged in the yellow wood. In this song, Modest Mouse just makes that same sigh more explicit.

Comparing Isaac Brock to Frost, you wonder? Well, Brock's lyrical approach in this and other songs can best be described as both the spider and the moth. And the questions Brock poses are no different than those in "Design"-- what of these assorted characters of death and blight? And what of design to govern things so small?

For the video, click here.

Why listen? Isaac Brock, one of the decade's most vital songwriters, discovers the power of populism and writes an arresting song that even people who buy music at Wal-Mart will appreciate and understand. People like you and me.

Something else? "Gravity Rides Everything," "Tiny Cities Made of Ashes," "The World At Large," "The Ocean Breathes Salty."

11. "Casmir Pulaski Day" by Sufjan Stevens (2005)

Casmir Pulaski Day is a holiday observed in Illinois on the first Monday of every March to commemorate the Revolutionary War cavalry officer born in Poland and best known for his contributions to the U.S. military in the American Revolution. In a song with the same name, Stevens sings about a teenager that loses her life to cancer "in the morning, in the winter shade, on the first of March, on the holiday . . . ."

Stevens' graceful song, paced with a gentle guitar line and contemplative horns, is a heartbreaking, moving, and intimate portrait of middle-American faith, belief, and loss. Like many of his songs, Stevens' narrative approaches the poetic sublime in an age when true lyrics are largely banished to the nightstands of enlightened readers. Most contemporary songs that tell stories are trite, manipulative, and unoriginal. Think country radio. Stevens' story, on the other hand, derives its power from the unexpected--the unfolding description of touching scenes are told with whimsy, empathy, and honesty.

Even more affecting, the song's protagonist wrestles with the loss of his friend and what Paul calls the "deep things of God." This internal dialogue between Self and Divine descends into searching introspection. Initially, Stevens sings "Oh the glory that the Lord has made / and the complications you could do without / when I kissed you on the mouth," struggling to accept mortality in the face of a beautiful Creation (hers and ours). Later, grief-stricken, he sings "Oh the glory that the Lord has made / and the complications when I see his face / in the morning in the window." Finally, in a breathtaking paradox, our young believer contemplates the ultimate deep thing: seeking atonement in the wake of great loss.

Oh the glory when he took our place

But he took my shoulders and he shook my face

And he takes and he takes and he takes

Not unintentional, Stevens allows listeners musical space to consider this, with a small choral suite extending the song to its final bar. Not even the saddest song in his catalog (hear the devastating "Romulus" from Michigan), Stevens' characters inhabit realms so real, empathetic, and world-weary. Yet consistent with his best work, Stevens allows his listeners to emerge with a sense of wonder at the paradox of divine faith in the midst of Creation's complexities.

Why listen? An exquisite narrative of poetry-as-music seemingly lifted from a Flannery O'Connor short story. Told with quiet majesty.

Something else? "Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois," "To Be Alone With You,", "John Wayne Gacy, Jr." "The Dress Looks Nice on You," "Abraham," "Holland," "For the Widows in Paradise, For The Fatherless in Ypsilanti"

12. "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley (2006) / "Paper Planes" by M.I.A. (2007)

Two global smashes. Two timely collaborations. Two ingenious uses of samples. And two inventive vocal performances. Both "Crazy" and "Paper Planes" will long be remembered as sonic touchstones of this decade.

On "Crazy," mash-up producer Danger Mouse collaborated with Goodie Mob member Cee-Lo and the duo created a song for the ages. It has been said that Shakespeare will be performed on Mars; likewise, this song will be playing when the house lights go up. From Gnarls Barkley's debut album St. Elsewhere, "Crazy" was inspired by Ennio Morricone's spaghetti Western scores; the song uses a sample from the film Viva Django. Danger Mouse's heady mix of psychedelic rock and hip-hop are only surpassed by Cee-Lo's classic soul vocal work. Word has it that Cee-Lo recorded the entire vocals for the song in one take. Unbelievable.

On "Paper Planes," M.I.A. teamed with producer Diplo for her second album Kala and shook up the Establishment with her gun-shot ringing third-world anthem. "Paper Planes" uses a backing track from The Clash and the chorus is based on that early-nineties ditty "Rump Shaker" by Wreckx-n-Effect. But it's the song's recorded gun shots and cash register (ka-ching!) that listeners will remember as the perfect symbols (cymbals?) for the class warfare of the catchy chorus. Little wonder the song was used to such good effect by the Oscar-winning film Slumdog Millionaire. While it is possible "Paper Planes" will sound dated in years to come (unlike the superior "Crazy"), M.I.A.'s global cross-over hit gloriously captured the sound of disparate peoples flooding over borders in the chaotic global marketplace.

For the video, click here. For the Slumdog Millionaire version, click here.

Why listen? These two songs are striking original outliers that managed to capture worldwide audiences savvy enough to appreciate authentic performances and songcraft. Can you think of any other tracks this decade that have such widespread recognition and massive critical acclaim? Didn't think so.

13. "Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service (2003)

"Such Great Heights" was one of this decade's most recognizable songs and fittingly so. With the track's accessible electronica and over-emotive (and insanely catchy) lyrics, the song was featured in everything from UPS commercials, to Greys Anatomy, to Garden State, to M&M covers.

For those who don't know, Jimmy Tamborello (from Dntel and Figurine) and Ben Gibbard (from Death Cab for Cutie) collaborated through the postal service, hence the name. Tamborello wrote and performed instrumental tracks and sent the DATs to Gibbard, who then revised the songs and added vocals. Gibbard and Tamborello essentially traded recordings back and forth until they arrived at a finished product. Give Up was released in 2003 and became the indie label Sub Pop's best-selling album since Nirvana's debut Bleach.

The song's exuberant optimism is perfectly backed by the bubbling, propulsive programmed beeps. Gibbard has written some good songs over the past ten years--this is arguably his best and certainly one of the most distinctive tracks of the decade.

Why listen? The defining moment of so-called lap-pop; "Such Great Heights" (especially when compared with its peers) reinforces just how difficult it is to create a great song even if you have all of the tools at your fingertips. The song is also a popular example of indie-rock's slow but ultimate embrace of electronics. (No guitars, no glory!) Fitting that it should come by way of Gibbard, one of the most polarizing figures in the indie-realm. People either like his stuff or they don't. But with this song it doesn't matter. The first few beeps alone are enough to make this list--they might just be the decade's musical code.
Something else? "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight," "We Will Become Silhouettes," "Sleeping In," "Brand New Colony."

14. "My Girls" by Animal Collective (2009) / "Bros" by Panda Bear (2007)

Noah Lennox is largely responsible for some of the most forward-thinking, in-the-zeitgeist music of the decade. As one of the members of Animal Collective, Lennox created indie albums like Sung Tongs, Strawberry Jam, and Merriweather Post Pavillion, each with head-turning musical moments. And as Panda Bear, Lennox's Person Pitch sent up layered smoke signals to the sun-soaked deities of pop.

"My Girls" may be the most avante-garde dance record of all time. Its subtle builds, harmonies, and layered, now-you-hear-it, now-you-don't electronica are pure brain candy. And with its submerged vocals, "Bros" sounds like it was smothered in sand the Beach Boys played in and then dedicated to the worship of pop's greatest titans.




Why listen? Seems like a rhetorical question. Pop music this inventive comes along only a few times every decade.
Something else? "Fireworks," "Peacebone," "For Reverend Green," "Summertime Clothes," "Comfy in Nautica."

Sentimental Song of the Decade: "Homesick" by Kings of Convenience (2004)

We are halfway through the countdown and it seems an appropriate time to take a break. But The D Man never sits on his hands, so he would like to recognize one of his favorite songs from one of his favorite albums from one of his favorite bands. Given his usual high-minded largesse, The D Man can be forgiven for some sentimentality. For the record, in one iteration of this list this song was well into the Top Ten. Nevertheless, understanding it was likely rated too high, I decided to take a pause and give The Kings of Convenience their just due. So let's consider the splendid opening track "Homesick" from the duo's splendid second album, Riot on an Empty Street.

This song affected me like few others this past decade. Aside from the lovely guitar lines and pristine vocal harmonies between Erlend Oye and Eirek Glambek Boe, "Homesick" elicited a hopeful meloncholy that equalled the eminence of Simon & Garfunkel. Furthermore, the duo conveyed their intended expression in such a clever way, completely refashioning the song-within-a-song conceit.

The protagonist, apparently a music store clerk, will "lose some sales" because he "can't stop listening to the sound / of two soft voices / blended in perfection" from a record that he found. (A winking reference to the Kings themselves). Later, we find the clerk "searching boxes underneath the counter" to find a record with "a song for / someone who needs somewhere / to long for." Of course, the artists know they are performing that song, and the listener realizes, much to his sad delight, that he is listening to it. But there is some lingering irony as the listener wonders whether the clerk will recognize he has already found what he's looking for.

The dislocation of entering adulthood and leaving youth and home behind has long been the subject of poets and songwriters. "Homesick" immediately captures the essence of such feelings in a brief three minutes and modernizes the tale so that we can understand. The last lines are nostalgic, heartfelt, and pang-inducing: "Homesick / 'cause I no longer know / where home is."

Why listen? An exquisite, lyrical example of traditional minimalism. Two guitars. "Two soft voices, blended in perfection."

Something else? "Misread," "I'd Rather Dance With You," "Cayman Islands."

BONUS: After five long years, the duo's third album will be released in October. The title? Declaration of Dependence. So giddy.

15. "One More Time" by Daft Punk (2001)

Daft Punk ruled the planet at the turn of the century and humans were merely automotons programmed to dance to their music. Don't believe me? Check this out. "One More Time" was an interstellar call to celebrate and dance . . . one more time. Really, that's about it. And then there's the small fact it brought auto-tune to the masses. And the fact it sounds absolutely huge and in the moment. And the fact it would be the song of choice if The D Man went clubbin' at the end of the world.

The french duo of Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter, preferring anonymous robot personas, stormed the French house scene and ultimately transformed it into epic, electronic dance-pop, culminating in the release of the 2001 album Discovery. "One More Time," with its heavily compressed sound and auto-tune vocals, became a global anthem worthy of the new millenium. Celebratory and wide-eyed, the song captures the essence of the youth, invention, and individuality of the digital age.

For the video, click here.

Why listen? Because you've been hardwired to listen. And dance.

Something else? "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger," "Robot Rock," "Digital Love," "Aerodynamic," "Technologic," and just for fun from the previous century, "Around the World."

16. "Mahgeetah" / "Golden" by My Morning Jacket (2003)

For modern listeners, driving in a car frames the context for many of the songs they listen to. And some songs simply sound better while cruising down a long stretch of highway. There may not be two better road songs than My Morning Jacket's "Mahgeetah" and "Golden." The first and third tracks from the band's seminal It Still Moves are perfect companions. A fall day. The dying light. And these sounds washing over you.

"Mahgeetah" is utter nonsense; just the way Jim James apparently delivers "my lady." After that, all you need to hear is the sprawling, feel-good guitars and James' high-wire vocals washed in silos of Kentucky reverb. And "Golden," like the morning sun scattering over the open road, describes a "feeling in my bones / I never felt before," and then wraps that feeling with a spine-tingling pedal steel-guitar. Even the amateur video makers below understood that the song belongs in a moving car.

My Morning Jacket fuses Southern rock, country, and psychedelia to arrive at a new kind of open-hearted Americana; the band's transition from cult-favorites to beloved arena-rockers has been one of the best stories in rock music this decade.

Why listen? You own and drive a car, don't you?

Something else? "One Big Holiday," "Wordless Chorus," "Off the Record," "Anytime," "Lay Low," "Highly Suspicious," "Touch Me I'm Going to Scream Part II."

17. "Through the Wire" by Kanye West (2004)

Kanye West has ventured into post-rap realms that his lesser peers can't even comprehend. His oft-flawless production, sophisticated samples, and intelligent, fully drawn-out lyrics have expanded his sound into preeminent pop music. While Jay-Z might be this decade's most important MC, The D Man prefers Kanye's best work over the Jigga Man's every time. Kanye's brand of global entertainment is more inclusive than Jay Z's urban-inflected rhymes. And the crispness of Kanye's writing is a nod to the rap-prose of yesteryear and more satisfying than Jay-Z's tendency to descend into half-spoken drivel. A matter of taste? Perhaps. But there is no denying that Kanye, although beknighted by Jay-Z, gave even more back to his mentor, including this huge song with that sweet Jackson 5 sample.

"Through the Wire" established Kanye's signature style and is arguably his most important song. While driving home late from a California recording studio, Kanye fell asleep at the wheel and was involved in a near-fatal car crash. Just weeks later he wrote and recorded this track that ultimately laid the foundation for his astonishing debut, The College Dropout. Before "Through the Wire" Kanye was merely a great producer; afterwards, he was a bona-fide hip-hop star. Kanye spent years saving beats and soul samples for his long-in-the-works debut. With a sped-up sample of Chaka Kahn's "Through the Fire," Kanye delivers a comedic and killer blow-by-blow of his emergence, comeback, and eventual triumph. Such hagiography has always been crucial to hip-hop and MC primacy. Never before was it so vulnerable, funny, and clever.

Why listen? West should be thanked for shedding the gangster image predominant in hip-hop and creating a lyrical persona that can embrace vulnerabilities and other timely topical content. West's production, samples, and lyrical hooks have resulted in the finest catalog of any hip-hop artist this decade. "Through the Wire" is an entertaining example of all of the above.

Something else? "Gold Digger," "Touch the Sky," "Heard 'Em Say," "Good Morning," "Good Life," "Homecoming," "Champion," "Heartless."

18. "White Winter Hymnal" / "Ragged Wood" by Fleet Foxes (2008)

Robin Pecknold (center) is some kind of Brian Wilson-inspired Appalachian folk music idiot savant. There may not be an album this decade with more melodic hooks than Fleet Foxes eponymous debut, due in large part to Pecknold's songwriting and lead vocals. Bursting with baroque pop harmonies seemingly hatched in some forest glen, Fleet Foxes' timeless textures weave spellbinding melodies with each listen.

On "White Winter Hymnal," strains of shape-note singing, Pet Sounds harmonies, gospel, and folk collide in an entirely unique camp-fire musical kaleidoscope. On the following track "Ragged Wood," the band's three-part suite displays sunny, shuffling country-rock, sixties-folk, and backwoods spirituals all within a span of five minutes.

Why listen? These two songs are a rousing entrance into a vivid sonic realm that touches on almost every aspect of distinctly American music. Fleet Foxes then combines such influences into something wholly original. There is absolutely no ceiling for what this band can do.

Something else? "He Doesn't Know Why," "Mykonos," "Blue Ridge Mountains," "Tiger Mountain Peasant Song," "Oliver James."

19. "The Funeral" by Band of Horses (2006)

Band of Horses expansive guitars and ringing melodies are drenched with atmosphere. Like shuffling through the leaves on a sidewalk in a small town. Or watching the moon over an empty lake. The group's pretty, autumnal indie-rock does not obscure the band's spare, lyrical heft, but fortifies and envelops it with layered reverb.

On "The Funeral," Ben Bridwell's high-pitched register slowly rises with crystalline guitar tones, humble yet foreboding. Then his voice explodes in glimmering reverb, awash in in what can only be described as Southern shoegaze. The result is an anthemic version of the often anemic or angular sound of their peers. Band of Horses open-hearted, unironic approach to indie-rock is life-affirming and welcome. And "The Funeral" is a striking and altogether potent indie-rock song.

Why listen? By combining elements of Southern rock, shoegaze, and indie-rock, Band of Horses create epic and intimate songs that are endlessly accessible and listenable. In an age of irony, the band forces listeners to take their words at face value which only enchances the music's immediacy. Indeed, if you want to call "The Funeral" the best emo song of the decade, The D Man will have no problem with that.
Something else? "The Great Salt Lake," "St. Augustine," "Is There A Ghost," "Ode to the LRC," "No One's Gonna Love You," Islands on the Coast."

20. "Kim and Jessie" by M83 (2008)

Lush, wide-screen musical cinema, "Kim and Jessie" reverberates listen after listen. A gorgeously rendered pop song, its creation is only possible from the imaginative resonance of Anthony Gonzalez, who understands the textural possibilities of live musicianship and computer generation. The guitars throb alongside synthesizers (see a great live version here) while the song's starry-eyed tale of teenage angst turns somewhat foreboding: "somebody lurks in the shadow / somebody whispers."

One of this decade's prime musical motifs was a renewed interest in so-called 80's retro, sometimes painfully so. But this song may be the look-back's crowning achievement. Given the recent passing of John Hughes, a muse of sorts for M83, one would like to think "Kim and Jessie" could have been his final movie's central montage.


Why listen? A lesson in the musical possibilities of electronica. What the artist can conceive, the musician/programmer can achieve. M83's "Kim and Jessie" is a flawless example of synth-shoegaze bliss.

Something else? "Run Into Flowers," "Don't Save Us From The Flames," "Graveyard Girl," "We Own the Sky," and "Coleurs."

21. "The Rip" by Portishead (2008)

Portishead's ten-year absence came to an end with the aptly-named Third. The group moved their legendary trip-hop into some potent, cinematic soundscapes, each song carried by Beth Gibbons' world-weary vocals. On "The Rip," Gibbons sings over acoustic strums, her voice eventually falling into a bed of electronica, haunted but hopeful.

While, white horses,

they will take me away,

And the tenderness I feel,

will send the dark underneath,

Will I follow?

Given the juxtaposition of the initial acoustic framework and eventual electronic climax, "The Rip" sounds suspended in time between a distant black-and-white past and some isolated future. But under the spell of Gibbons' interpretation, the vivid opening lines ("As she walks in the room / scented and tall / hesitating once more") followed by the supernal chorus translate the song into an otherworldly performance. "The Rip" is jaw-droppingly beautiful and haunting, and, ultimately, vital listening that leaps out of your speakers.

Check out the incredible video for "The Rip" right here.

Why listen? Like the rest of Portishead's third album, "The Rip" is an arresting but rewarding piece of recording artistry. The noir electronica seeps into your veins alongside the lyrical brilliance of Gibbons' plaintive voice. The song's familiar strangeness suggests it will be worth revisiting well into the distant future.

Something else? "Machine Gun," "We Carry On."

BONUS: "The Rip" has plenty of important fans. Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood let someone film their version while messing around backstage.

22. "Beautiful Day" by U2 (2000)

"Beautiful Day" established U2 (again) as the biggest band on the planet. U2's stellar 2001 album, All That You Can't Leave Behind, re-enthroned the band's sonic magnanimity and appealed to our collective greatness. The Edge's wall-of-sound guitar, Adam Clayton's pulsing rhythm, Larry Mullen, Jr.'s beating drums, and Bono's vocal passion engaged listeners during a third decade of music making. "Beautiful Day" was their clarion call.

U2's relevancy in the early part of this decade will also be tied to the events of 9/11. The D Man's brothers were a few terrifying blocks away and watched the towers fall that fateful day in September 2001. Robbie still has the dust on his shoes from his journey across the Brooklyn Bridge to escape Manhattan. A month later, they attended U2's sold-out show in Madison Square Garden and have since said it was one of the most cathartic experiences of their lives. Indeed, Bono and The Edge agreed that those New York City shows are among the most memorable of their thirty-year career.

Millions shared in that experience a few months later during halftime of the Super Bowl, when U2 paid tribute to the deceased and Bono, ever the attention-seeking Irishmen, ripped open his jacket and unfurled an American flag. It was awesome. Maybe the greatest public performance of all time, certainly of that magnitude. Likewise, "Beautiful Day" became an anthem of peace, hope, and reinvention during the rest of U2's heart-shaped tour.

For the video, click here. For a huge performance at Slane Castle, click here.

Why listen? Powerful, inspiring rock music has long been U2's forte. "Beautiful Day" is a powerful, inspiring rock song. Forget the band's back catalog and this song would have been even bigger, if that even makes sense or is possible. When Bono reaches to sing reach me, I know I'm not a hopeless case, a sort of communal understanding is realized: with each other, we are not cast off forever.

Something else? You already know what else.