DRIVING SONGS

This post is unique–it’s the most looked-at post in the history of TBP. I say “looked at” and not “read,” because, if you read the comments, there’s a whole bunch of people who missed the “leaving out the obvious candidates” bit in the first paragraph.–mh

Time for another music list. This time, it’s driving songs. (A natural topic for this site, no?) All these tunes will make your next roadtrip a little more enjoyable. As usual, I’m leaving out the obvious candidates like “Born to be Wild”–you don’t really need me to bring that song to your attention, do you?

1. The Cult, “She Sells Sanctuary”: It’s that cool phased guitar riff, combined with a nice tempo that was more New Wave than heavy metal, that makes this my pick for the best driving song. Especially if it’s sunny and the traffic enforcement is light. In another forum I once said that Simon LeBon was the most persistently out-of-key singer ever to hit the top 10; I only said that because I’d forgotten all about Ian Astbury. But here he’s not too bad.
2. Son Volt, “Windfall”: If “She Sells Sanctuary” was all about velocity, this one is all about driving 55 in the right lane. An actual tale about an all-night trip from Saint Paul to New Orleans, “Windfall” shortens the distance between the exits better than any other country song I can think of (and yes, I can think of “On the Road Again”).
3. Joe Jackson, “Stepping Out”: Not all driving is done in the country, even if most of mine is. “Stepping Out” always makes me think of neon lights and urban boulevards and the corresponding world I don’t live in but like to visit on occasion. I’ve never heard a song that more strongly suggested evening than this one does.
4. New Radicals, “Someday We’ll Know”: It’s too bad New Radicals wound up as a one-hit wonder, forever associated with the brief late-90s vogue of Gilligan hats. Gregg Alexander was (and still is) a killer songwriter with a knack for evoking the best of the 70s without sounding dated. Here, in the story of a soul-searching cross-country road trip, he captures the blue-eyed Philly soul of Hall and Oates–in fact, he does it so well that H&O eventually felt compelled to record this song themselves. “Hope I Didn’t Just Give Away the Ending” from the New Radicals album (there was only one) is a great rainy-day errand-running song as well.
5. Fela Kuti, “Buy Africa”: Sometimes when traveling great distances, it’s better to surrender to the hypnotic effect of driving rather than trying to deny it. The swirling groove of “Buy Africa” from Kuti’s 1972 album London Scene is enough to put you into a trance–but just a mild one, lest you forget you’re driving. It’s also one of the few songs about economics which you can also dance to.
6. Saint Etienne, “Goodnight”: This song almost perfect defines St. Et’s fusion of late-60s Britpop with 90s house music. The eerie, ethereal melody contrasts against a stinging two-chord guitar riff (provided by Jez Williams of the criminally-underrated Doves), ultimately giving way to a harpsichord-soaked 7/4 section that had to put a smile on Dave Brubeck’s face. That the song is actually about driving and departing is simply a lagniappe.
7. Stan Kenton Orchestra, “Intermission Riff”: Particularly the 1954 recording with Stan Levey on drums. Stan Kenton was the Metallica of the big band era, capable of unleashing so much raw power and emotion you feel physically exhausted after listening to him. On this recording everything proceeds innocuously, barely building at all, until Levey explodes with a perfectly-timed drum break that leads into some of the tightest, sharpest ensemble playing you’ll ever hear. “Intermission Riff” is espresso for the ears.
8. Barenaked Ladies, “Enid”: Hey, you can’t be serious all the time.
9. Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Californication”: Might as well listen to a song decrying urban sprawl while you’re contributing to it, right? This song has a powerful groove and sincere, heartfelt singing–a rarity from the good-timing Peppers.
10. American Music Club, “Goodbye to Love”: Yes, the old Carpenters song, from the 1994 If I Were A Carpenter tribute album. AMC punched up the gloom of this bathetic song until it no longer sounded like a parody of a teen suicide note. Instead, in their hands, “Goodbye to Love” gained a sort of illuminating sadness, the same wistful sense I get when I’m driving through the Great Plains. Mark Eitzel could sound sad without sounding like he wanted your pity; the shimmering, overdriven guitars added to this sense of alienation and abandonment. Not everybody can stand to listen to this song. Those who do find a connection to feelings we’ve all felt, but usually can’t put into words. Long car trips can bring out the darkest bits of your soul, and like I said earlier, sometimes it’s just better to surrender.

THE INTERNET WAS USEFUL TODAY

Hey, it’s not every day you get streaming video of an Icelandic bicycle-horn virtuoso.

(Found at Dave Barry’s site.)