Chris Bell: "I Am the Cosmos" (1978)

"I Am the Cosmos" by Chris Bell is the greatest song of all time.  Undeniably.

Every night I tell myself I am the cosmos
I am the wind
But that don't get you back again

The sound of "I Am the Cosmos" is as huge as its title, but Chris Bell certainly ain't bragging: in the first verse of his only single, he's saying it doesn't really matter what he--cosmos or not--says or does: he's gonna be heartbroken.  That album cover you see captures the song's musical scope, but it doesn't hint at its tragedy.

This is one of the most emotionally intense songs I've ever heard.  It's as raw and agonized as Husker Du, but, in place of screaming, it offers soul-searing melody.  Like Alex Chilton, Bell took lots of notes on the Beatles and the Byrds.  "I Am the Cosmos" is composed of fairly typical pop moments--a guitar solo, handclaps, a "yeah yeah yeah" refrain-- that have been pushed beyond their limits... and the result is catharsis.  When the man claims his feelings have always been something he couldn't hide, we believe him.

I'm pretty sure Bell died in some kind of freak accident, and yet, the amount of emotional stuff poured into this song-- which is, again, the only self-authored single released during his lifetime-- almost seems to indicate his profound awareness of death to come.  The only other parallel I can think of is Jeff Buckley's Grace, which is nearly impossible for me to imagine in the context of a longer career.

Wallace Stevens said that death is the mother of beauty.  And I say that Chris Bell's death sucked.

But I also say that "I Am the Cosmos" is the greatest song of all time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kR594Kkxmzg

Philip Glass: "Opening/Mishima" (1985)

"Opening/Mishima" by Philip Glass is the greatest song of all time.  Duh.

I have an interest in classical music, I guess, but not the patience for it.  When it gets down to brass tacks (brass horns?)  (shut up!), I'd much rather listen to something with, err, singing than something with, err, not singing.  Oh, and drums too.  I like drums.

Philip Glass is different though.  He's incredibly easy for a guy like me to get into... He's like the Fall, but with strings.

Man.  I really wish I could say something smart about this song.

Um.  It goes "doo doo doo doo doo doo / doo doo doo doo doo doo" with the strings.  And then, uh, the bell goes "BOW BOW BOW" a couple times.  After the warm-up part.  All of that's after the warm-up part.

This is tough.  But trust me, this song rules.  That "speculative" beginning?  That drum part before the "doo doo" part?  How it just LAUNCHES you into the dreams and visions of this nutty Japanese novelist?  And how the "doo doo" is just there for a couple of heavenly seconds before it subsides?  Like you're just getting a taste of Mr. Mishima's  abruptly-ended genius?

You wonder, after reading his books, if Mr. Mishima even deserves such a sincerely rousing and beautiful treatment.  Either way, this is a magnificent piece of music.  And that's all I'm gonna say.  This is one you truly have to hear to "get."  (Or you could do one better and watch the wonderful Paul Schrader movie that features it as a theme song!)

"Opening/Mishima" is the greatest song of all time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SYGu8ap1FvI

Guided by Voices: "Hardcore UFOs" (1994)

"Hardcore UFOs" by Guided by Voices is the greatest song of all time.  Yep.

These guys are inspiring to no end.  From seemingly nothing-- during Bee Thousand, the band were all thirty-somethings, working day jobs, having families, drinking beer, and loving the Who-- GBV created an astounding amount of excellent music.  Their story seems as dream-like as any great rock and roll creation myth, because everything about them is so very ordinary.  They look ordinary.  They come from ordinary Dayton, Ohio.  They don't play their instruments all that well.  As an ordinary, ungifted Ohioan myself, I find GBV's best work incredibly charming and reassuring.  To me, Bee Thousand seems to say, "write good enough melodies, and maybe you too can be a star!"

Course, the melodies on Bee Thousand are far beyond "good enough."  Every song on the record has at least one mega hook; most have three or four.  Robert Pollard couldn't play like Page or sing like Plant, but he could write songs worthy of Lennon or McCartney with (what sounds like) effortless ease.  "Hardcore UFOs" is the greatest song of all time because, in just under two minutes, it distills perfectly the power of GBV: the ability to be average and amazing at the exact same time.

Burbles of electric guitar begin the song.  Then Pollard, voice reaching to the sky, comes in...

Sitting out on your house
Watching hardcore UFOs

Drawing pictures, playing solos till ten

The scene has been set.  You can see Pollard and company on their roof, probably drunk, messing around with guitars.

The call to action comes next:

Are you amplified to rock?
Are you hoping for a contact?
I'll be with you, without you, again


So now they're inviting you to join them.  They ask you about the most rock and roll question imaginable, and maybe reference the Beatles.

Cue the chorus:

Turn and run, the angel's calling

You say when, and I say I'm falling
Up and down through broken down buildings
Back and forth, but please don't bother...


Movement, movement, movement... It's the perfect lead-in to what's gotta be a big rock moment...

AT ALL!


Pollard's voice holds the note, and the electric guitars flare up, and suddenly, you're rocketing to space...

But there's a note flubbed.  And the guitar seems to come unplugged.  And who can hear what's going on, anyway?  Everything is distorted to hell.

And so the epic collapses.  The melody carries you through the rest of the song, and good times are had, but no "contact" is made.  The band goes for broke, but in the end, they're just a bunch of dudes on a roof.  Still: they're sure creative, aren't they?  Guided by Voices represent the triumph of good times over technicality.  "Hardcore UFO's" could be their theme song, and rock and roll's.

"Hardcore UFOs" is the greatest song of all time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I2ICvSl2b38

Bob Dylan: Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues (1965)

"Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" by Bob Dylan is the greatest song of all time.  Without a doubt.

In theory, it's one of the worst songs ever.  It doesn't have a chorus.  Heck, it hardly even has a hook-- there's no refrain here, a la "MISTER JONES" or "Won't you come see me, Queen Jane," nor any guitar or organ riff of note.  It goes on forever-- something like five minutes-- and its lyrics are mostly inscrutable, with none of the fun put-downs that Bob loved so much in the mid-60s.

So... what does this song have, you ask?  Well, I respond, it's got Bob's voice.  Bob's beautiful, magical, soaring, five-octave voice.

...I'm only partially kidding.  Everyone knows Bob has a unique voice, but I think it's more than that.  I think Bob's voice is one of the great voices in rock and roll.  And not just because he's "influenced" people, or whatever.  I could give a shit about that.  No, I think Bob's voice is great because it always keeps me engaged.  There's not one song on Highway 61 Revisited that really "changes"-- once you've heard the first minute of "Tombstone Blues" or "Desolation Row," you've kind of heard the whole thing.  Only, you haven't.  Because unless you hear Bob sing all of his ridiculous nonsense, you haven't heard nothin.

Bob's name comes up often in the race for the Nobel Prize in Literature, something I think is a joke.  The Nobel Prize in Lit recognizes a body of written work, and there's no way Bob's lyrics on their own can compare to the work of Philip Roth or Cynthia Ozick or Obscure Eastern European Dramatist Never Translated Into English.  Bob's lyrics can stand alone, but they only really work magic when the man himself is singing them.  The "mysterious everyman" persona Bob cultivated in the 60s digs deep into the ambiguities of his words; I'd argue that a more typical "mystery man" (like, say, Captain Beefheart) or "everyman" (like Springsteen) cannot as easily tap into the poetic potential of any of these verses.

Up on housing project hill, it's either fortune or fame

You must pick on or the other though neither of them are to be what they claim

If you're looking to get silly, you better go back to from where you came

Because the cops don't need you and man they expect the same

I imagine that if you haven't heard "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues," that verse means nothing to you.  On the other hand, if you have heard Bob sing that verse, it's rich with possibility.  Bob's voice, part yell, part whine, part mumble, all-American, straddles the line between "epic" and "ordinary."  It turns a seemingly nothing song like "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" into a stunning evocation of mid-60s confusion.

"Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" is the greatest song of all time.

(I couldn't find the original on Youtube... so enjoy this rather touching version played by Bob, George Harrison, Charlie Daniels, and others): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBshqWuaAWM

Bob Dylan: One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later) (1966)

"One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)" by Bob Dylan is the greatest song of all time.  Obviously.

It's the kind of song whose arrangement (the backing band here, for the record, is the Hawks, a.k.a. the Band) makes me want to scream, "Triumph!," even if its lyrics are about, well, losing.

Sooner or later, one of us must know

That you just did what you're supposed to do

Sooner or later, one of us must know

That I really did try to get close to you

In the hands of a lesser being, that's the kind of chorus that gets the draggy, alone-in-a-dark-room acoustic treatment.  Dylan and his people, naturally, make it the most rousing part the album, complete with massive (Levon Helm?) drum fills, jangly (Robbie Robertson?) guitars, and pianos (by Garth Hudson?) that skip all over the place.  In other words, it's the "mercury sound," in full effect.

Contradiction?  Not really.  "One of Us Must Know" is a break-up song for mature folks.  It's sad and nostalgic (or, if we combine em, "wistful"), sure, but it's also forward-looking.  Who really wants to be in a relationship where you can't see and can't hear and don't know and all those other things Bob mentions?

"One of Must Know (Sooner or Later)" is the greatest song of all time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flqJ3poWa_U&feature=results_video&playnext=1&list=PL870783B645844CB1