A (mostly) uninformed listening of the top 50 singles of 2010: 1–10

And we come to the end. I was quite able to finish this before 2011, but January 2: Close enough. To recap: I realized that I was familiar with almost none of the top hit songs of 2010, so I decided to listen to every entry on Rolling Stone's list of the top 50 singles of the year and review them here. After covering 41–50, 31–40, 21–30 and 11–20, it ends here: the top ten. Enjoy.

10. "Monster" -- Kanye West feat. Jay-Z, Rick Ross, Nicki Minaj and Bon Iver

Well, this is educational: Most of the year’s buzziest musicians, together in one song. Now that I’ve made it through the first 40 entries on the list, I’ve developed more formed opinions of the players here: Kanye is interestingly innovative, Rick Ross relies on the same old crass rap clichés, Nicki Minaj doth protest too much. Jay-Z I was already familiar with, and not really interested in, and…wait, isn’t Bon Iver some kind of indie-folk bearded dude?

There’s not a lot here for me: “Monster” beats you over the head with the same rhythm again and again, failing to show much of what makes Kanye special. But I am warming up to Minaj a little; her verses show way more playfulness and personality than I got from her own songs, as she flips through a cavalcade of characters, going some way to justify the hype. Bon Iver, meanwhile, floats in from out of nowhere, not nearly as incongruous a presence as you’d expect, but his verses are the opposite of exciting. This song is pretty weird, but not interestingly so.

9. “The Ghost Inside” – Broken Bells

I was aware of Broken Bells as one of the many rock-rap hybrid projects staking a claim on the musical landscape—producer Danger Mouse (I found The Gray Album clever but annoying) and James Mercer, from the good-but-overrated rock band the Shins. And here we are.

This song is dreadfully boring. Absolutely nothing of any interest happens here: It’s pretty, I suppose, and Mercer has a great voice, but by the time it appears near the end of the song, you’ve been rendered completely somnambulant by a deadeningly repetitive melody and falsetto whining (or is that Mercer doing the falsetto? Can’t tell). Rolling Stone describes the song as “noirish,” but they’re forgetting that good film noir is exciting.

This leads me to a general point about much “rock” music these days: It doesn’t rock. It fails to excite or get the blood racing; it doesn’t even seem to try. There’s talent here, sure, and musical creativity, but there’s also a complete abdication of rock’s noble calling to fire up the emotions. Too many songs on this list fall into this category, which makes me wonder what musical genre they’re supposed to belong to.

8. “Tightrope” – Janelle Monae ft. Big Boi

From what I gather, Janelle Monae is a one-of-a-kind musical character, and this song shows a hell of a lot of sass, personality, and talent. But the song—a not unpleasant stew of classic soul sound and glitchy rhythms—fails her. It’s yet another good idea that doesn’t manage to live up to its ambitions (though Big Boi’s contribution is spot-on and fits in perfectly). I think critics praise it because they know they’re supposed to, but I doubt too many of them listening to it voluntarily more than, say, three times.

7. “White Sky” – Vampire Weekend

Again, I’m supposedly a fan of Vampire Weekend (their first album grabbed me back in ’08 and refused to let go for a couple of months), but I had only the vaguest memory of having heard this song when the new VW album, Contra, came out last January. And it’s…pretty forgettable. That trademark unique indie-rock/Afropop mélange that Vampire Weekend does so well is in full effect, but they only manage to feint and parry at the edges of the song, never building it beyond the its basis as just a good idea. An example of a band buying its own hype on its second album and failing to put in the requisite effort? What do I know, I don’t even listen to albums by my favorite bands.

6. “You Are Not Alone” – Mavis Staples

Another R&B survivor, coming back with an inspirational hymn, written by Jeff Tweedy of the criminally overhyped Wilco. This is a pleasant song with a warmhearted message, but Staples—71 years old and best known for this best known from this—doesn’t have the voice she once did.

5. “We Used to Wait” – Arcade Fire

A personal note about last year: I had a blind date over the summer with a woman who was an ardent geek for Arcade Fire, talking eagerly about their upcoming concert in town. I tend to be foolishly honest when meeting new people, so when she asked me what I thought of the band, I had to work hard to not tell her how I found the band to be a huge waste of rock & roll potential (such a refreshingly majestic sound, such boring, boring songs). I think I did all right—I got a second date, though not a third—but listening to this song again reminds me that we were probably doomed from the start. I want to like Arcade Fire, I really do (if only to be a proud former Montrealer), and this song is not bad by any stretch of the imagination. But how many times do I have to say it—a good idea does not make a good song. This track just refuses to go anywhere.

4. “Teenage Dream” – Katy Perry

Please…make the ear-bleeding stop! Seriously, how can any adult really think this is a good song? I don’t care what the pedigree is of the studio wizards twiddling the knobs here, Katy Perry isn’t just untalented, she pretty much sucks the talent out of a room. Completely bubbleheaded lyrics and amateurish delivery and…and…and…arrrggh! This song makes me want to commit genocide.

3. “Soldier of Love” – Sade

Wow. Just last night, I was looking at the list of past winners of the Grammy for Best New Artist, marveling how few still have careers, and not including Sade on that list (it ranges from the Beatles to Milli Vanilli). But what do you know, the 1986 winner came back strong this year. The martial beat is a little predictable, but this woman’s deep croon is still beautiful and sexy, and the electro-lined backing adds a great texture below the melody. Too bad it grows boring after a couple minutes.

2. “Fuck You” – Cee Lo Green

Here it is, the single song in the top 50 that I actually purchased this year. I found the initial hype for this song suffocating, refusing to believe that anyone would care if the title weren’t something as bluntly provocative as “Fuck You,” but then I gave it a listen. I like this song a lot: The perfect mix of throwback soul fetishization and newfangled polish, with some nifty lyrical metaphors (“I guess he’s an Xbox, and I’m more Atari”). It’s not one of the great songs of the ages—the title really does come off as a gimmick—but it’s a whole lot of fun, topped off by a jubilant vocal performance by Cee Lo, clearly a consummate performer. It’s even earned a place on the latest entry in my epic mix-CD series, Track 3 on volume 60, between Black Flag’s “Rise Above” and Tom Petty’s “Down South” (believe it).

1. “Runaway” – Kanye West ft. Pusha T.

Aw. I was hoping it was a cover of Del Shannon (or Bon Jovi). Oh, Kanye—you are our beacon; where you go, our culture will follow. This weird, spooky song gets under your skin, with its repetitively genius piano figure (I’m also partial to any song whose first word is “and”). One demerit for hanging its chorus on the obnoxiously clichéd term “douche bags,” but otherwise, this is a respectable choice for the best song in a year of mediocre music.

So I am now fully educated in the year in music. Well then. I’m not sure what to make of this—I really didn’t like most of these songs, and very, very few of them would I consider actually purchasing. Even something like Robyn’s “Dancing on My Own,” which I really enjoyed, isn’t commanding me to spin it again and again, like any of my 10,000 favorite songs can do with bewitching effectiveness. I entered this endeavor with an open mind, but the project pretty much confirmed my opinion that modern pop music just doesn’t speak to me anymore. My tastes have aged out of relevance, and I need to make my peace with that. I suppose that’s not so bad; there’s always another 1960s garage-rock band to discover.

By the way, my personal pick for song of the year—nowhere to be found on this list—is embedded below. I can’t be completely over the hill if something like this still gets my heart racing:

A (mostly) uninformed listening of the top 50 singles of 2010: 11–20

No, I haven't forgotten! I'm listening to all 50 of Rolling Stone's top 50 singles of 2010, having heard hardly any of them till just now. You can read 41–50 here, 31–40 here, and 21–30 here. Now: 11–20. Honesty follows…

20. “Boyfriend” – Best Coast

The ruler-slapping grammarian in me finds this song annoying simply for its repeated refrain: “I wish he was my boyfriend” (were, dammit, were). This is a fairly appealing little mash-up of pop music tropes (“imagine Brian Wilson as a sensitive stoner girl,” Rolling Stone writes, and that’s dead on), buried in that tin-can production haze that’s supposed to be…authentic? Enigmatic? I can’t tell. Combined with the singer’s wholly unexceptional whine, it makes the song a little too annoying for its own good. But it gets in and out in a brisk 2:31, so no harm done. (Why this band has inspired a fervent cult, however, is beyond me, but I think I need to get used to that feeling.)

19. “Your Hands (Together)” – The New Pornographers

Perhaps the saddest thing about my withdrawal from the pop-music scene is the fact that even when I become a fan of a band, I fail to keep up with them; I’m routinely hearing about a supposed favorite group of mine’s new album months after the rest of the world has consumed it, let alone its legions of Internet acolytes. Example: the New Pornographers, whom I’ve enjoyed quite a bit for at least seven years (I remember this song really grabbing me in the early days of the Big Quiz Thing—I squeezed it into the first Canada Day audio round, stumping nearly everyone). I had no inkling this new song existed till just now. Give me a minute while I start following them on Twitter. (Now follow me.)

The New Pornos have a great, quirky sound, outstanding melodies and tight-as-hell musicianship, and this song is no exception, but I don’t think this is their best effort. My initial reaction is that it’s a good idea needing development; the entire song sounds like the bridge of a much better song. Wait, let me listen to it again…

Yeah, not doing it for me. Try this instead.

18. “Scissor Runner” – Jenny and Johnny

Calling your act “Jenny and Johnny” makes me want to hate you, though I suppose I can stomach it if you actually consist of a woman named Jenny and a man named Johnny. These two have a great way with a melody and terrific vocal interplay; I was going to critique Jenny's voice, seeing as how it sounds like nearly every indie-pop queen of the past ten years, but then I discovered that she's the gal from Rilo Kiley, so she pretty much is every indie-pop gal of the past ten years. Still, I just cannot get excited by this, though I forgive them for the duo name.

17. “I Can Change” – LCD Soundsystem

The LCD Soundsystem guy (I believe it’s just one guy, but again, doing hardly any research here) clearly loved Depeche Mode and the Human League as a kid, but thought those guys weren’t trying hard enough to get laid. So here you go: a catchy repeating techno backline fronted with overemotional, milky vocals. This is far more human than I expected from this act, and fun, but it seriously overstays its welcome, which undercuts the humanity of it and makes it sound like just another slice of computerized product.

16. “Coffee Spoon” – Cold War Kids

I really enjoy the sound of this one; the muted dancing guitar figures, the white-guy soulful voice, the perfect female backing vocals. A really beautiful gem held together nicely by throwback musical sounds. Then I looked up the lyrics, and welcome to pretension-o-rama: “Ascetic wring their hands, this decadent misuse/Inside my china room you are my coffee spoon.” I don’t think it’s complete gibberish—I think I could puzzle it out if I wanted to make the effort—but I don’t quite have the patience. But I’ve always had a talent for ignoring bad lyrics in favor of catchy music (hell, I used to like the Goo Goo Dolls), so I’ll let it pass and put this song in the plus column.

15. “Over” – Drake

Ah, the rapper laments the struggles and tragedies of fame. Hard to do this in a fresh and original way these days, especially when you’re as lyrically dopey as Drake. He just doesn’t seem to be trying very hard to make his words work together in a coherent fashion, rambling with confidence but not eloquence. Lucky for him, he does it all over a great symphony of samples and instruments, with shifting time signatures that really command the attention. Still, cry me a river, millionaire.

14. “Shutterbugg” – Big Boi feat. Cutty

Icy electro rhythms that sound straight out of a vodka commercial, but appealingly so. Big Boi—the other guy in OutKast, from my POV—has a lyrical confidence, and an impressively speedy flow. Lots going on here, in a good way. I’m never going to love something like this, but I do like it.

13. “Hustle and Cuss” – The Dead Weather

I never could get with the White Stripes, though I always admired Jack White’s appreciation for that undefinable classic-rock flavor. This is his side project, the Dead Weather, with a hellion female lead vocalist, and it has that same element: the dark, heavy overtone of an Iron Butterfly song, with a lot more personality. But it also has what I perceive to be the White Stripes greatest flaws, a dulling repetitiveness and slight pretension. They hustle and cuss and lick on the dust, I take it, many, many times, whatever the hell that happens to be. Another example of a good idea that isn’t really taken anywhere worth going.

12. “Bang Bang Bang" --Mark Ronson and the Business International feat. Q-Tip and MNDR

That took too long to type. Another genre mash-up—ultra-white Euro-techno and hip-hop— with an excellent melodic hook in the chorus. The song takes “Alouette” as its point of departure, cleverly. But ultimately this is too sterile to appeal beyond the level of a novelty. I feel like too many modern musicians are in the business to impress people with their talent, and not so much to express something emotionally—they’re stuntpeople, rather than artists.

11. “Everlasting Light” – The Black Keys

More falsetto vocals over hazy, chugging guitar rock. Maybe it’s me, but this is just another damn decent idea that some guy in a leather jacket pounds into the ground, to diminishing returns. Toward the end of the song, a crescendo begins, building the song to what will hopefully be some kind of cathartic payoff, but then it completely fizzles out in the wimpiest way conceivable. Do these guys have emotions or just interests?

Only ten to go! I bet those will be really, really awesome…

A (mostly) uninformed listening of the top 50 singles of 2010: 21–30

Getting to the halfway point. I'm listening to the top singles of the year (per the dubious authority of Rolling Stone), mostly for the very first time. Here's 41–50, and 31–40, and now, 21–30. Here we go…

30. “Nothing but the Whole Wide World” – Jakob Dylan

This guy is still around? Actually, back in the day, I gave Jakob Dylan credit: He could have totally skated by on his name and his good looks, but he seemed to be making a real effort regardless with the Wallflowers. This song, however is drop-dead boring, pounding the same melody ad infinitum, and Dylan has an unpleasantly strained voice. Maybe his dad or James Taylor could have pulled this off, but not Jakob Dylan.

29. “The Trip to Pirate’s Cove” – Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers”

I love, love Tom Petty: easily one of my favorite songwriters ever, even this late in his career (this song from ’08 is an absolute stunner). But I’m not sure about this song, which sounds a little tossed off, despite some typically excellent guitar work by Mike Campbell. This suffers from a lot of the same problems as that Jakob Dylan song: lack of melodic development, and an oddly strained vocal performance.

28. “Laredo” – Band of Horses

Like many contemporary artists, Band of Horses is a group I know for one particular song (“The Funeral”—nicely affecting overblown bombast) than for an album or a body of work. And based on my admittedly narrow knowledge of their oeuvre, this song surprised me its peppy folksiness—come to think of it, very Tom Petty–esque. But again: a good idea that doesn’t really go beyond square one.

27. “Bloodbuzz Ohio” – The National

I didn’t know fact one about the National, despite what I gathered to be deafening buzz. Three seconds into “Bloodbuzz Ohio” (terrible title), I know everything I need to know, and am not the least surprised by the cult. A self-consciously dark, Ian Curtis–style vocal, chiming guitars, insistently stuttering drums. This is the kind of music that huge masses of white people find inspiring. Me—maybe. I can see this song growing on me; it has a great, classic sound. But I could use a touch more passion.

26. “Dancing on My Own” – Robyn

Everyone I know who loves Robyn—and that seems to be lots of people—is either female of gay, strong evidence that I’m not going to go nuts for whatever she’s selling. So the pertinent question: Can I appreciate the effort? Yeah, I think so. She’s a got a steady, unflashy voice, and the bubbling synth melody is sweet without being saccharine, with nice dark undertones. Most important, unlike Ke-dollar sign-ha, Robyn isn’t making a fool of herself trying too hard. It’s about as substantial as cotton candy, but of I had a 14-year-old daughter, I’d be proud to take her to a Robyn concert as a Hanukkah present.

25. “Did It on ‘Em” – Nicki Minaj

I’m starting to think Nicki Minaj is trying to be the Lady Gaga of rap, with the whole outer-space dance-club robot thing. But Minaj is lyrically confrontational in a way Gaga isn’t (from what I can gather), in the overcompensating-rap tradition. She keeps repeating “Shitted on ’em” (classy), talks about how she’s so much better than everyone else, blah blah blah. We get it already.

24. “Not Afraid” – Eminem

When Eminem first emerged, he wasn’t my thing, but I recognized his iconoclasm (same way I felt about Alanis Morissette and Nirvana, come to think of it). My issue was that he came off as a bully: Wow, what a tough guy, picking fights with Britney Spears and Moby.

But Em’s stood the test of time, and his artistic growth is undeniable. His flow’s a little unsteady here, and his inspirational words here are a pretty cliché (“We'll walk this road together, through the storm/Whatever weather, cold or warm/Just let you know that, you're not alone”…zzzzzz). Still, he’s honest, and he seems to have the right attitude, finally.

23. “Macon” – Jamey Johnson

Time for another nap: one ‘70s country-rock trope piled atop another. (Does he need to “get back to Macon”? Yep. Is the guitar twangy? Surely. Are there female backup singers? Indeed.) Still, I have far more important things to do than hate this song, or even particularly dislike it. “Yeahhh, here I come!”

22. “B.M.F. (Blowin’ Money Fast)” – Rick Ross feat. Styles P

More? Bragging about what an awesome drug dealer you are over endlessly looped Cadillac beats? Jeez, enough!

21. “Infinity Guitars” – Sleigh Bells

At a friend’s recommendation, I listened to a little Sleigh Bells earlier this year, and my assessment from then stands: This is some of the most irritating music ever recorded. It’s clamorous and jumpy, like tiny needles scratching my mucus membranes. And I tend to like “jumpy” music—take my favorite song of the year—but there’s absolutely nothing smooth or soothing about this, just rock & roll banging you on the head again and again. This is what old people must have thought about the Beatles in the ‘60s. “Infinity Guitars”…is that a threat?

Twenty more to go; hope to wrap it up by 2011…

A (mostly) uninformed listening of the top 50 singles of 2010: 31–40

Continuing on: A couple days ago, I realized I'd heard nearly none of the top singles of the year, so I'm listening to all 50 (per Rolling Stone) now, and giving each a fair review. Click here to read what I thought of 41–50; today's list, 31–40, features absolutely zero songs that I'd heard until today, but some definite gems. Subjectivity awaits, but hey, it's a blog.

40. “Power” – Kanye West

Kanye West epitomizes how thoroughly I’ve dropped out of the modern musical conversation: He is everywhere, created the year’s best album virtually by acclamation, yet I know next to nothing about him (I can recognize “Gold Digger,” that’s about it). This song is interesting, as good as hip-hop gets from my limited-enjoyment perspective: Such a great, bold sound, and samples a favorite of mine, King Crimson’s “21st-Century Schizoid Man.” And only 1:43 in length, so I appreciate the concision.

39. “The Diamond Church Street Choir” – The Gaslight Anthem

It’s a pretty sanitized, and the guy’s voice is totally contrived, but this is an okay, straight-between-the-eyes, I-wish-I-were-Bruce rock song; Hootie and the Blowfish if they had a lot of tattoos and were better songwriters. The guitarist is really good; some nifty Mark Knopfler figures dancing around in the background. But I can do without it.

38. “The Mystery Zone” – Spoon

In the early ‘00s, when I was still at least somewhat up on current indie rock, Spoon was the hottest thing among my aging hipster contingent for a couple months, and I tried to like them, I really did. But I could never get around what continually struck me as a defiantly derivative songwriting sensibility: Every one of their songs sounded like I’d heard it before. (Like Pavement, Spoon was a band that I found to be about as interesting as its name.) But "Mystery Zone" finally breaks through with me. We’re clearly hearing from a more mature sensibility here. There’s an incantatory thing going on: He keeps repeating “the mystery zone,” and that combined with a spookily insistent bassline drives the song dangerously close to hypnotizing me. Must…like…Spoon! Great ending too, and excellent musicianship; good song.

37. “Beamer, Benz or Bentley” – Lloyd Banks ft. Juelz Santana

Really? We’re still doing this? Empty-headed paeans to fly rides and ho’s? I appreciate the great rhythm here, the flawless production, that amazing vocal hook (I’m going to have “Beamer, Benz or Bentley” running through my head for, oh, the next two millennia), but this song is the apotheosis of what I don’t like about stereotypical hip-hop: the coldly off-putting combination of conspicuous consumption and antiseptic production. Yeah, yeah, I ripped on that parent-friendly B.o.B. song too—I guess there’s a narrow sweet spot for me when it comes to this genre (and the mighty Kanye hits it, so I must not be alone).

36. “Up All Night” – Drake ft. Nicki Minaj

I hadn’t heard Nicki Minaj before, but I had read an article about her that hailed her first album as “the fastest-selling debut female solo release since Lauryn Hill,” which sounded like the most absurdly qualified praise I’d ever read. Anyway, both she and Drake have good, distinctive voices, but there’s not a lot of variance in their delivery: They strike the exact same don’t-fuck-with-me poses throughout this song. A little more soul than the Lloyd Banks song above, and excellently produced, but again, not what I will ever be in the market for.

35. “Paradise Circus” – Massive Attack ft. Hope Sandoval

Ah, trip-hop: How I miss you, late ‘90s. During my music journalism career, I once interviewed the frontman of Massive Attack on the phone, and when I (foolishly) let slip that I hadn’t listened to their album (the publicist had accidentally sent me an empty CD sleeve), he started insulting me. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference, because back then, I found this kind of music about as interesting as wallpaper paste, and nothing has changed. There isn’t anything here that couldn’t be straight from 1999: the washing sonic textures that sound like they’re banged out on an expensive Casio, the female vocalist who couldn’t be bothered to have a cup of coffee this morning, even the “trippy” song title. Next!

34. “Stylo” – Gorillaz feat. Mos Def and Bobby Womack

Nice! A great synthesis of modern techno-noodling and genuine classic soul-pop sound (man, Bobby Womack has one hell of a voice!). This is how you do mellow and trippy. I’ll never put something like this on voluntarily, but I’ll definitely enjoy it while browsing at H&M. Gorillaz—my favorite shopping-for-clothes-and-wishing-I-had-a-girlfriend-to-help-me band.

33. “Post Acid” – Wavves

Rolling Stone describes this song as “part Buzzcocks”—I’m listening. Not bad: Definitely has that jumpy, reved-up rock element that I so very much love. A solid melodic hook, though it’s way too herky-jerky to remind me of the Buzzcocks (whose melodies were always very smooth), and it sort of wears out its welcome, even at less than two and a half minutes. The calculated lo-fi sound typically grates on me, but I’m working on getting over that; I think it’s just jealousy over the fact that I never formed a band in my garage.

32. “Enter the Ninja” – Die Antwoord

A crazy South African rap duo, apparently. This is very, very weird—some guy rapping in Afrikanglish, a woman chiming in on the choruses with a helium voice, all over a dark computerized rhythm. Unique, and extremely catchy. But it makes me feel a little dirty.

31. “I’m New Here” – Gil Scott Heron

A legendary '70s musical poet mounts a comeback. Emphasis on legend; I’d long heard of this guy, but never heard him. About what I expect, a soulful free-form rap over a crystalline acoustic guitar. This is intriguing stuff, but it’s apples and oranges comparing this with Die Antwoord and Ke$ha (forget apples and oranges; it’s apples and protozoa). This is Rolling Stone’s problem: It tries to be everything to everyone, but music (and pop culture) is just too broad to boil down into credibly ranked top-40 lists.

Next time, I hit the halfway point. This is fun!

A (mostly) uninformed listening of the top 50 singles of 2010: 41–50

The other day, someone asked me what albums are on my top ten list for 2010. The question hadn't occurred to me at all. As a teenager and young adult, I was obsessive about making lists like these—I had a top ten for albums and singles every year of the '90s (1994 it was Weezer, of course), but no more. I pretty much totally tuned out 2010 in music; I liked one new album and about three new singles. Mainly, I've been revisiting Warren Zevon, the Pixies and XTC—my taste is still good, but man, is it old.

How did I come to this? I was The Rock Guy in college; I moved to New York City to be a music journalist, lucking into a great job answering phones and collective vapid rock-star quotes for Rolling Stone magazine. Now, not only do I know nothing, I don't much care.

So an experiment: I'm taking a look at Rolling Stone's list of the year's top 50 singles (yeah, yeah, I know, bullshit authority, but reading that magazine is where my rock expertise began, and working for it is where it went to die), and I will write, in this space, a brief review, poorly informed review of every song on its list. I'd heard very few of these songs before; I claim no expertise.

See below for the first ten; more in the coming, dwindling days of '10.

50. “We R Who We R” – Ke$ha

God, I hate this song.

I was aware of Ke-dollar-sign-ha, sadly. Damn, I guessed almost exactly what "Tik Tok" sounded like based on the song title, so that tells you something there. I know, I know, I'm fucking old, but I just don't understand how anyone buys this woman—she's trying way, way too hard to impress us with how "current" she is and what a badass she is. (Plus, she sings like she has gum in her mouth.) I have trouble believing a word she says, though it helps that she isn't saying much. That's the point of a song like this, but the whole thing is so sterile and airless, I just can't imagine why I'm supposed to care. The beat's not bad, but it just lays there, passionless. C'mon, pop music, you can do better.

49. “El Camino” – Elizabeth Cook

Clearly some country affirmative action, but this is a cute tune. It's not very exciting, but Cook—who's got a pretty, unique voice—tells a little slice-of-life story about some greaseball slipping her a roofie and molesting her in the back of his piece-of-shit car. Hilarious. She rhymes “annul it” with “mullet” and “get much hotter” and “piña colada," which is great, except she (or whoever wrote the song for her; I'm not doing research here) works a little too hard shoehorning the lyrics into the rhythm. Fun stuff, if not very good. Decent guitar solo.

48. “hahahaha jk?” – Das Racist

I thought these guys were way overrated; that "Combination Taco Bell and Pizza Hut" was one stoner joke stretched out way too long (not even one joke—it was a good idea for a joke). But this is a lot better, primarily because they sample the flat-out creepiest-sounding TV theme of all times, Days of Our Lives, and they have a great sense of rhythm. And the lyrics are actually funny, in a way that self-referential rap rarely is, no matter how much critics and bloggers tell themselves it is. (They drop the names Sammy and Lucas, then say, "That’s a reference to the soap opera Days of Our Lives, even though I was a bigger General Hospital fan.”) It kind of runs itself in circles after a while, but it's the rare song that makes me like it despite using text-message speak in its title.

47. "Born Free" – Kid Rock

What is with this guy? When he first hit it big, Kid Rock was king of the dirtbags, celebrating guzzling beer and fucking porn stars, which I suppose has its appeal, but he's since mutated into a bad Bob Seger. Good on him that he still has a career a decade-plus later, but this song is a terrible mess of "real America" clichés, seemingly exist only to sell for an advertisement (I'd actually already heard this one, in an ad for a baseball game). This sounds like the lowest-ranked guy on American Idol who still manages to get a record deal.

46. Congratulations – MGMT

Another one I'd heard, though hadn't really listened to. I truly enjoyed MGMT's first album, and my reaction to their '10 release was the way I feel about a lot of sophomore albums—they believed their own hype. People told them they were geniuses, so they figured they didn't have to try hard or focus, and the result was way, way below their talent level.

But listening to this again, carefully, I think that's only partly true. This is not a bad song—a lyrically fresh assessment of fame, a great melody and unique sound. But I really wish these guys wouldn't sound so sleepy and narcotized; the whole thing is buried in a haze that doesn't help the song. Also, it has a sing-along vibe, but you can't sing along to a song that doesn't repeat any of its lyrics. Focus, gentlemen.

45. "Plundered My Soul" – The Rolling Stones

Only Rolling Stone would consider this Stones rarity—just recently seeing the light of day on the rerelease of 1972's Exile on Main Street—to be a "new" single. That said, it's great, gritty, bluesy classic stones, which only depresses me because it makes me think of the utter shit this band's been shoveling for nearly 30 years now.

44. “Love and War” – Neil Young

Now here’s a guy who you believe him when he says something. Neil looks back on his career—he's sung a lot about both love and war, you see—with only the expert interplay of his acoustic guitar and his voice. Perhaps he's phoning it in a little, but Neil Young is the Jack Nicholson of rock & roll—even when he's lazy, his charm carries you through. Also, he rhymes "wanna" with "Toronto" (which has been done before).

43. “Nothing on You” – B.o.B. feat Bruno Mars

When a rap song sounds like Maroon 5, you know the genre has completely lost its ability to threaten old people. This song is wholly competent, but absolutely nothing more (and I can't tell if "You the whole package, plus you pay taxes" is clever or annoying). I’m old, this music bores me.

42. “Floating Vibes” – Surfer Blood

I'd heard about this, since Surfer Blood has been universally hyped as "the Beach Boys meet '90s alt rock," two things I love. (Though I swear that synthesis isn't new, but not example is coming to me.) I like it—a lot of interesting sonic things going on in the background. But there's the problem—like MGMT, these guys lack focus. They get lost in the wacky studio experiment, never reining the song in and keeping it from meandering all over the place. Good, too bad it isn't great.

41. “In Every Direction” – Junip

Apparently, this guy is some kind of Swedish folkie, but my first thought was a 21st-century Christopher Cross. Nice little weird pop song with a dark undertone. I like this, but this is music that’s never really going to excite me.

That was interesting. More to come…