May 18, 2023 by A.S. Van Dorston

I will never rank songs, but I can share specific moments that percolate in my brain on repeat.

After a lifetime of ranking albums, it’s second nature to me, but whenever people ask for favorite songs, I draw a blank. I couldn’t possibly organize the hundreds of thousands of options. But interestingly, tiny moments within songs as seemingly insignificant as a handclap or a well-timed “Ah that’s nice” have sparked joy, as Marie Kondo says, for most of my life. Here’s some of them.

John Cale’s imperious and just a touch menacing piano riff on The Velvet Underground’s “All Tomorrow’s Parties” (1967)
Captain Beefheart’s non-sensical intro to “Pachuco Cadaver,” “A squid eating dough in a polyethylene bag, is fast ‘n’ bulbous, got me?” Of course.
“Kick out the jams, motherfuckers!” No mere intro, but a sacred vow that some jams will get the everloving shit kicked out of them. MC5, “Kick Out the Jams” (1969).
“Looooooooooooove! Aaaaauuuuuurrrgh!” Iggy Pop’s mating call or battlecry? Both, babies, both. The Stooges, “T.V. Eye” (1970).
The Devil’s Tritone riff adapted from Gustov Hulst’s “Saturn.” The birth of metal and doom. Black Sabbath, “Black Sabbath” (1970).
Jaki Liebezeit turns a Clyde Stubblefield style drum pattern inside out, and creates a template for post-punk. Can, “Vitamin C” (1972).
Jonathan Richman counts in The Modern Lovers’ “Roadrunner” (1973). Eclipsing The Velvet Underground’s “Sweet Jane” and “Rock & Roll,” the student has become the master.
Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd’s guitars crescendo into the stratosphere. How to top that? Return to that tasty riff and steady beat. Television, “Marquee Moon” (1977).
John Coltrane’s frenzied yet controlled peak that conveys yearning and cosmic wonder all in a few moments on “My Favorite Things” (1960).
Charles Mingus rages with dissonance throughout the album, but then spins into the most breathtakingly beautiful passages ever. Here you can indeed imagine the movements of a ballet dancer. “Track C – Group Dancers” (1963).
Not his most impressive performance, yet Jimi Hendrix’s riff on this hugely influential piece of psychedelic space rock has haunted my brain since I was a toddler. “Third Stone from the Sun” (1967).
Van Morrison’s mystical chorus of “Astral Weeks” (1968) is the stuff people dream of being able to pull off in karaoke but are smart enough not to attempt. I would sing it like Mark Lanegan, a performance that will only live in my imagination.
Those coughs have a Pavlovian effect to prepare me to head bang, or at least nod. Black Sabbath, “Sweet Leaf” (1971).
Al Green’s intimate vocalizations nearly reach squeaking level, but he pulls it off like no one else can. “Simply Beautiful” (1972).
“Mister Zoot Horn Rollo, hit that long lunar note, and let it float.” His one-note solo is perfect, but the anticipation before it is even better. Captain Beefheart & the Magic Band, “Big Eyed Beans from Venus” (1972).
That handclap after “Zarathushtra” slays me, I don’t even know why. Just Roxy Music’s saucy insouciance I guess! “Mother of Pearl” (1973).
A childhood favorite, Electric Light Orchestra’s “Jungle” has many favorite parts, including the foley stomp sounds after “and they danced,” and “wonderous is our great blue ship that sails around the mighty sun and joy to everyone that rides along.” But the timing of “Aw, that’s niiice” cracks me up. The Muppets should have done this song. Muppets Mayhem S02 on Disney+, let’s DO it, with Jeff Lynne guesting.
Iggy Pop’s excursions into French poetry late in life reek of bullshit compared to here, where he doesn’t try hard to be cultured and sophisticated. This is emotionally complex but pure. He’s IN IT when he sings these words. “The Passenger” (1977).
Another perfect example of creating anticipation that’s just as satisfying as the scorching guitar solos that follow. Iron Maiden, “Revelations” (1983).
The thunderous close to one of Queen’s few underrated and underappreciated songs, and the perfect way to end this first batch. “It’s Late” (1977).