The Middle of Nowhere #20

Part 3 of my 5-Part series, listing my greatest songs of all time. 30-21

Welcome back. This is part 3 of my 5-part series, listing my top 50 songs of all time. Reminder: since starting, I’ve already found ways to tamper with the order and entries. Alas, we’re in too deep, folks. It’s mostly on the back end anyway. We push forward. Subscribe to The Middle of Nowhere for updates on the next drop.

30. my bloody valentine- When You Sleep

The clock zeroes in on midnight on my drive home. The red light paints my face and all I could see is death. The weeks and months before that night, I see death everywhere. I see visions of myself hanging from the Los Angeles palm trees, jumping off of grocery store buildings, walking onto the 183 at night. I wished to die everyday. I lacked the courage to commit.

‘When You Sleep’ plays as the red light droops off my face, small raindrops drop on my windshield. For once, my mind is finally quiet. The fuzz and grungy dread radiates from the guitars and into my speakers. I feel barely conscious when the light turns green but instinctually, I drive. Echoes in my mind tell me to let go but they’re distant.

Therein lies the magic of shoegaze. I often find drone or ambient music to be far too silent. There is too much room for thoughts to run rampant in the ruins of my psyche. The distortion of the guitars, the hushed, unintelligible vocals take the place of the usual haze in my mind. ‘When You Sleep’ captures the built up pressure escaping the brain. Perhaps we were always meant to carry that boulder on our own. But it’s the pockets of relief we yearn for that allow us to keep going. my bloody valentine fills those gaps.

29. Angelo Badalamenti- Twin Peaks Theme

Sure, it’s a TV theme. It’s also basically a soap opera. Not many soaps are as bizarre as Twin Peaks. But in a sense, that’s part of the magic. People pontificate about the surrealism of a David Lynch project because he’s a goddamn weirdo. Moreover, people expect to find answers to things that don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Where Lynch gains power is in mining for the humanity in an otherwise absurdly evil world.

Angelo Badalamenti excels at this in collaboration with Lynch. There is bountiful tragedy to be found in a Lynch project. This world takes from us so much. The Twin Peaks theme doesn’t ponder much about the overwhelming noise of grief and evil here. Rather, there is serenity and liberation to be found in tragic evil. Death is but the final stop from a weary, violent existence. For once, the certainties of tragedy relieve themselves, the facts of life do not concern the deceased. Moreover, being able to find the meaning and purpose despite inevitable grief is where freedom can truly be unlocked.

Angelo distills the elements of humanity into song so gracefully. Windy, overcast clouds pass in the synth pads. The twang of the guitars capture the grand scope of this massive world. I frequently wept to this upon my own explorations of grief and post death depression. My mind no longer tortures itself in the departure of those I lost. Rather, I know now that there’s nothing left to hurt them. Love knows no turbulence when they have nothing left to battle. It is the end.

28. Lloyd- Players Prayer

I often talk about what’s missing in R&B (and I’ll do it again here in a few spots.) Usually, it’s a stylistic thing. Producers and engineers shuttle away the chords for something synthetic and soulless. Artists stop layering their vocals out of laziness or plain ignorance and creative bankruptcy. Sometimes, they just want to be rappers. No one is cool anymore. We’re losing recipes.

An understated aspect of the game we miss is the aspect of commitment. Not in the romantic sense, adultery is a fixture in R&B, on record and in life. Rather, artists desperately need to commit to the bit of a record. If you’re going to lament a woman being gone for an hour and how that’s too long, show her what that means. Throw the leather vests on and get in the damn desert already.

Nowadays, R&B plays things a little too tongue in cheek to where I always suspect a wink and a smirk at all times. The artist thinks they’re too cool to be truly vulnerable and earnest. In reality, R&B is great when that earnest nature evolves into something genuinely absurd.

That’s where you get ‘Player’s Prayer,’ where Lloyd breaks down his hoe tendencies into the biblical and relationship standards are commandments you mustn’t fail. It’s absolutely fucking ridiculous in the textual sense. “Thou shall not run these streets, thou shall not hit these clubs every night of the week looking for some groupie love,” he sighs, knowing he screwed up at home.

Lloyd sounds insane in a vacuum. But what true love doesn’t have you acting a little bit out of character? Real yearners know the agony of missing the one you love, the uncomfortable dog house that comes with fatal errors. I adore how Lloyd breaks down to his knees, pleading on the bridge how only her perfect love and forgiveness can mend the distance. Sure, he was playing with them girls but he was going to come right back home. It’s deliriously toxic how he begs on these angelic chords. But he fully believes what he’s selling. ‘Player’s Prayer’ doesn’t work if he doesn’t truly bare his spirit on wax. He sheds all of his being in the name of love. Ignorant and honest, it’s all the same. That’s R&B in its purest form.

27. Chief Keef- Citgo

I didn’t know hip-hop could sound like this. Me and all my friends run around like the gremlins we are in junior high. All we know is scouring the internet for new music and Chris Smoove NBA 2k and Call of Duty videos. I remember when one of us asks amongst ourselves, “Yo, did you hear the new Sosa?” During a dead period in class, I scramble for my shitty Skullcandy earbuds and blast ‘Citgo.’

My eyes immediately widen. I remember one of my friends grinning. “Bro, right?” I remember vaguely hearing, muffled from the lousy audio quality of the headphones. I never heard any music like this, where the laws of rap music could be broken. Instead of exist within the confines of the prototypical rap record, he travels beyond it. I marvel at the time that you could dare explore past the contrived confinement I imagine in hip-hop.

Who knew that a random YouTube type beat would open up the limitless bounds that rap could be? I still sit in awe of its composition, where Keef works in step with the faux Young Chop drill hi-hats and Beach House meets Gucci alien synths. It’s equally shocking that people still fruitlessly attempt to replicate its magic but lack any of the musical instincts Chief Keef has to maximize the dense space. He’s inimitable.

26. Richie Havens- I Can’t Make It Anymore (Live)

A lot of art gets caught in the web of metaphor and imagery. I think we lose sight of the power in direct communication. I can pontificate on the darkness within. It’s much more brutal to say, I wanted to kill myself this morning. There’s no art to it, no subtlety. What’s understood doesn’t need to be explained. Your imagination can go as little or as further as it needs. But just know, I wanted to kill myself this morning. You know how deep this goes. You know where I am on the edge.

‘I Can’t Make It Anymore’ is painful. Richie Havens’ voice reminds me of the edge; the tired, craggy voice, the tremble in his voice, the pleading in his voice. The wailing no’s at the end of the song tells me everything. At the end of the day, no one truly wants to die. The rush in which he plucks the guitar strings towards the end is the totality of life running through our fingers when we wish the end. It’s like fighting back against a muddied mind that sees nothing but demise.

It’s those lyrics hiding beneath the rawness of his voice. It’s a breakup record but its impact plays best when not viewed in the traditional lens. Rather, that internal struggle gives this song the heartbreak of finality. It’s hard to feel like it’ll ever be better. It’s too late. “I get too low with no reason… But something’s not the same and I won’t let my mind believe.”

So much subtext rises out of the words, “Lately, I don’t feel much like talking.” Isolation is the preservation of others. Protect them from the wicked tides of our fractured minds. As much as I echo the sentiments of safeguarding the light in us, I’m also not naive. Sometimes, that fire is gone. All I can really do is cling onto a record like this and know the war in my mind holds similar value in others.

25. The Gap Band- Outstanding

I can’t believe I tried nominating a different song for The Gap Band than this. In some sense, I do. “Wednesday Lover” is this record’s runner up, given my taste, it tracks. 80s quiet storm perfection where rain dimly crashes the glass, chords illuminate past the fog and Charlie Wilson and the crew croon over the greatest woman to ever exist. It’s a recipe for great R&B.

However, I find myself reluctant to pursue perfect composition in favor of the pure embodiment of joy and happiness. People often jest about how you can never be upset whenever the ultimate cookout record comes on at a function. How could you frown when Charlie Wilson smiles? How do you sit idly when you hear those drums? Few records exude such delight than hearing Uncle Charlie and co. swoon over a lady.

24. The Neptunes- Frontin’

Have you ever wanted to live in a song? Growing up on 106 & Park conditions me to find sanctuary in the music. The music video countdown were glimpses into lives I could never imagine. They had beautiful women, money, the Lamborghinis coated in tropical colors. These were unthinkable circumstances though. It’s less aspirational and more fantasy. ‘Frontin’ finds eternity where most videos don’t: mundanity.

The world of ‘Frontin’ is a dream. I grant a little bit of the tax here to the video. Similar to so many Michael Jackson joints (ironic because the King of Pop historically turned down countless Neptunes classics), Pharrell and Chad Hugo imagine the world for you. Rather than amplify the catcall or the intense romantic inclinations, yearning is reduced to the coziness of a house party. Red Solo cups flood the crib, smiles fill the room, dudes take turns skating. Even the color palette of the video soaks in color contrast to a soft faded effect. You can be on the prowl like Pharrell or saunter around nursing a cup and dancing. The choice is yours.

Solely on the song’s craft, ‘Frontin’ still feels like heaven. I’ve spent so many years obsessing over the architecture Pharrell and Chad Hugo build here. Ever the obsessive chords freak, they exude this pristine cleanliness to its environment. Think emerging your face from an ice bath or the breeze gliding past you on an early spring morning. Its bass line is a smirk to a fine woman across the room. ‘Frontin’ strips the stakes of the everyday world. Why worry? There’s no pressure here. Dance, flirt, lounge, do what you want. Escapism never felt so good.

23. Pete Rock & CL Smooth- They Reminisce Over You

I remember the first time I fired up ‘NBA Street Vol. 2.’ I was only 4 or 5, shuffling through the buttons to see what works. Thankfully, the game is mercifully simple on the easy mode. Then I hear ‘They Reminisce Over You’ on the main menu. The city of New York stands beautifully as the game’s backdrop with Stretch stands tall with his majestic ‘fro. Oftentimes, I’d sit there letting the song finish, in awe of the saxophone sample.

‘They Reminisce Over You’ spiritually makes sense as the opening song when the game begins. Soaring off the asphalt to dunk with Stretch or crossing the life out of some sneakers with Allen Iverson or one of the St. Lunatics makes sense under Pete Rock drums. Rap and Basketball exist as kindred spirits anyway. The art of styling on the court and on a beat fall one in the same.

It took me far too long to really dig into the meat of the song, a loving eulogy to a fallen friend. Ultimately, it works all the same. ‘They Reminisce Over You’ survives today as a testament to the fullness and beauty of life.

22. Johnny Gill- There U Go

God, what the fuck happened to R&B?! I reckon the genre doesn’t work today because we reject the notions of romance entirely. We dwell far too much in our own heads to love unabashedly. I mentioned earlier how Lloyd earnestly bears himself on “Player’s Prayer.” Similarly, love does not truly blossom underneath the shade of self consciousness. If you don’t give yourself fully to it, you will never reap the blessings from it.

Conversely, ’There U Go’ relishes in its intimacy. Lust and true love seem almost indiscernible when that special partner swells your heart so much. That’s the key measure of sexiness, where self confidence doesn’t concern itself too much from perception.

In this sense, Babyface is one of our greatest poets. It’s impressive how he extracts that ‘love at first sight’ feeling, how one glance finds ourselves longing to be in their bed. Moreover, Babyface also excels within self control, despite how he makes Johnny Gill yelp about how his woman makes him lose it. I find that the best records toy with the notion of cliche and expands upon its details. He trusts you to find depth within the template.

It helps that his production with LA Reid adds so much to the surface. Those rich 90s chords freeze time, like seeing a fine woman pass by and having to collect your jaw from the floor. Johnny Gill naturally gives a lot of heft to its backdrop of thumps and slow grinds. Subtlety is not the name of the game here. Sometimes, you have to fully exert that longing desire. R&B used to be good about these balancing acts, knowing how to fearlessly navigate love. Maybe one day, we’ll get back to that point.

21. Kanye West- Slow Jamz

Let’s spin back one more time to my overarching point about music production in Part 1 of this series. I argue that sometimes, producers deceive the listener into thinking there is a ton of labor in their sampling. In reality, it can be deceptively simple. Consequently, I believe we should dare to challenge the notion that songs we like aren’t nearly as impressive as we think. That duality can exist.

“Slow Jamz” is a miracle, casting the obvious Luther Vandross signal through intense compression and structural manipulation. It’s so easy to chipmunk vocals and call it a day. So many artists rest on the laurels of their sample, feet up as listeners summon their own Leonardo DiCaprio finger snap moment to inevitably crack the code. Sometimes, the simplicity is all a record needs to thrive. Let the juice of the original record pilot the song.

Somehow, Kanye splits the difference. He snips a mere parcel of the Luther Vandross’ breakdown on “A House is Not a Home” and squeaks it into raw melody. The words are hardly intelligible but it suggests just enough where the initiated knows what’s going on. Then, he chips the raw melody and aligns it perfectly with the drums clunking its way into the verses. The details he enforces are deliberate and solidifies ‘Ye as one of the best producers to ever do it.

Obviously, the rest of the song holds up to Kanye’s masterwork behind the boards. Jamie Foxx thrives as the master of ceremony. He’s always been one of the more underrated R&B artists; not a lot of artists know the power in self control. Oftentimes, you’ll see a singer riff to really show the extent of their vocals. But there’s a time and a place to flaunt that and he navigates those peaks and valleys beautifully.

Kanye is naturally funny, even beyond the light skinned/dark skinned Michael Jackson bars. Who else takes an aside on a romance record to diss a woman rocking rhinestones and frontin’ them for diamonds? Then, there’s Twista. He always impresses in the Olympic sprinter kind of way. Sometimes, the tact gets lost in translation when speed running some raps. Here, he’s particularly impressive, congesting raps into machine gun spurts and hugging the end of every drum beat for brief moments of space. It’s a dream of a record where expectations are constantly subverted. “Slow Jamz” shows how even the slightest tweaks expands how we understand formulas.