"Ten Songs That Make Me Drop Everything Else.”

Part 2

Screenshot of Tina Turner, youtube

This is my second installment of “Ten Songs That Make Me Drop Everything Else.” What do they all have in common? They capture my attention so fully that I have to drop everything else to listen when I hear them.

I was inspired to take on the challenge after reading this piece by Terry Barr and listening to all the songs he picked. (Terry was in turn, prompted by an article by Scott-Ryan Abt — you’ll find the link in Terry’s piece.)

Part 1 included my first five picks—but don’t mistake what that means. The order does not reflect where I rank them with regard to each other. It is simply chronological, based on when the songs were released to the public. Trying to rank songs at this level would be beside the point.

So here are the other five songs that made the list:

Led Zeppelin: “Kashmir”

No, “Stairway to Heaven” is not Zeppelin’s best song. Not even close. “Kashmir” is better on every count; I consider it one of the greatest songs ever recorded. Robert Plant’s voice was never put to better use. The song is perfectly arranged. The transitions between Middle Eastern and Western scales are brilliant and haunting. Like a Beethoven symphony, it gradually builds the tension until it crashes ashore.

“Kashmir” satisfies in so many ways: The melodies and harmonies are catchy and memorable; it is emotionally compelling; it evokes different moods, from mystery and foreboding to triumph and exultation. It doesn’t just feel otherworldly — it IS otherworldly. This is one of those cases where you can get swept up in the song's feeling or go back and dissect the production endlessly; either way, it is absorbing.

There are many great renditions of “Kashmir.” This one is from the 2007 Celebration Day concert, for which they reunited twenty-seven(!) years after they had disbanded. The drummer is Jason Bonham, son of the band’s original drummer, John Bonham, whose death had led them to disband.

King Crimson: “Red” (from the album “Red”)

This is the most visceral and cerebral song on my list. It is an instrumental that modern classical composers like Stravinsky and Bartok heavily influenced. It is filled with ominous tritonic progressions and odd time signatures and manages to be stately and measured while being dark and terrifying. It plugs directly into my nervous system and twists it.

Hundreds of bands have pounded away or screamed their lungs out in an effort to be this brutal, and very few have even come close, no matter how loud they get. Because it’s not about loudness. What most of them forgot is that music is also supposed to be beautiful. This piece is starkly beautiful, the way a blood-red sky is beautiful.

King Crimson was — and is — Robert Fripp’s baby, and he wrote this piece, but then he sat back and let Bill Bruford and John Wetton steal the show. Fripp inverts the usual role of guitar, making it the rhythm instrument, while Bruford gives us a drumming tour-de-force for the ages, and Wetton turns in a bowed bass solo that gives me the shivers every time. In the end, there is no way to explain this song without just hearing it.

Tina Turner: “We Don’t Need Another Hero”

Turner was a great arranger and producer, but for me, her voice was, and is, so mesmerizing. She infused every note with a heartbreaking, almost surreal combination of sadness and exuberance. We know she had a hard life, including years of brutal abuse by her husband, Ike Turner. We also know that she was determined to come out on top. It’s all there in every note she sings.

Turner is my pick for the greatest singer of her generation, male or female. She was the best at blues, the best at soul, and the best at rock. Yet her greatest songs didn’t belong to any of those genres. They were just Tina Turner songs. I went to see her live in 1985, and it was like buying a ticket to watch a volcano erupt.

This is the theme song from “Mad Max: Beyond the Thunderdome,” a hallucinatory post-punk science fiction movie which, by the way, you must see if you haven’t already. I could have chosen several of her songs, but nothing captures that end-of-the-world feeling like this one.

Here she is, tearing it up just shy of her 70th birthday:

Nightwish: “Ghost Love Score”

When a rock song captures the sense of awe I got from Händel or Beethoven growing up, I can’t help but pay attention. This song is an emotional roller coaster. It is about love, loss, illusion, obsession, and death.

Above all else, “Ghost Love Score” is a showcase for the vocalist. Floor Jansen was the third frontwoman for the band — she joined them full-time in 2013. Her voice is so versatile she can convey everything from innocence to loss, anger, fear, and, ultimately triumph — all in the space of one song.

This was her first performance with Nightwish on a major stage — in this case, the main stage at Wacken, in front of 80,000 fans. Upon joining the band, she had had the gumption to rearrange their best-known song, adding a final cadenza that builds to a shattering climax. It has become a signature moment in Nightwish concerts. Their fans coined the term “Floorgasm” to describe the experience of hearing it live.

Though in a much smaller venue, I have seen them live in concert. It was a bucket list item for me, and they did not disappoint!

Lovebites: “A Frozen Serenade”

We often hear people talk about some piece of music saving their lives or getting them through a really bad spot, and now I know it’s not an exaggeration. Two years ago, I had some nasty complications after a major surgery. At one point, I wasn’t sure I would survive. Waking up in the middle of the night, choking on blood, can raise some interesting questions.

I turned to music, and this song, more than any other, got me through my recovery. It is a lament for the end of the world, disguised as a song about lost love. The lover is not a person but the earth itself, and the song is a plea for another chance. This particular performance includes an acoustic interlude, the likes of which I have never seen in a rock performance.

I have no reservations in saying this is the most beautiful song on my list. It is also a mesmerizing performance. I played it at least once every day I was in the hospital. All I had was my phone with its tiny speaker and tinier screen, but that was enough to serve as a lifeline.

(The video will not play here — just click through to get to it.)

It’s impossible to pick “ten best” songs and expect the list to remain immutable. On any given day, I think other songs belong on the list. I compiled some of those into an “Honorable Mentions” list — stay tuned for that.