List 43 amazing moments in otherwise unamazing songs

This…is not an amazing song. It’s a I-V-IV-V progression with lyrics. 1545154515451545…overandoverandoverandoverand…

Even the amazing moment doesn’t seem all that amazing in retrospect. Last chorus…second to the last line…after singing “I need a lover that won’t drive me crazy” the same way six billion times, John Cougar finally changes it up.

He throws in…a triplet. There are modulations, octave jumps, and screaming guitar solos all throughout this song (gotta do something to change up such unchanging changes), but the pinnacle of it is…a mere triplet.

The amazing part is that I will happily listen to this whole semi-misogynistic song just to hear that triplet. And bang it out on the steering wheel as I drive joyfully home.

Ok, how many songs about outlaws do we really need, Styx? And do we really need this one?

I would say “no”, overall. It’s not the cheesiest song about an outlaw ever (for that, listen to Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive” – way worse – I guess I really have it in for Bon Jovi). But “Renegade” is not that good, either. A number of forced near-rhymes, a couple of lines that are sort of hard to spit out. Not bad, but not amazing.

Still, I get the shivers every time that part comes around. You know the one – it’s the repeat of the first verse that comes right after the screaming guitar solo. All the instruments drop out and it’s just near-shrieking vocals. So cliche. But it’s giving me goosebumps just thinking about it.

Edited to say, this song does have one other thing going for it: it was used (to great and hilarious effect) in an episode of my favorite TV show of all time, Freaks & Geeks.

I don’t care how many people know about it – this is an unamazing song. Especially compared to the rest of the songs on the Graceland album, and every song he wrote prior to Graceland (I’ll refrain from commenting on more recent albums).

It’s sad to listen to, in some respects, because Paul Simon is such a great lyricist. In this song, he seems to have stopped trying. Not good at all. OK, so the verses are merely alright – you have to admit that the chorus is BAD, and even a tad ridiculous. (Betty? Al? Give me a frickin’ break!) How did this end up as the most well-known single? Chevy Chase, I’m looking at you!

Still, it’s Paul Simon, so there’s a redeeming moment in this one. You know it, I’m sure: it’s the 2-measure slap bass solo towards the end of the song. I’ve heard rumors that it’s actually a solo followed by a mirror-version of the same solo; I’ve heard all kinds of theories about who’s actually playing it – it doesn’t matter. It’s amazing.

I can’t decide if I like Chris Issak or not. I sort of do, because his voice reminds me so much of Roy Orbison’s (and I worship Roy Orbison). I sort of don’t, because his songs are often dumb, or at least not as good as Roy Orbison’s.

“Wicked Game” is a good example. First of all, the whole song is made up of the same repeated chord structure. Second of all, most of the lyrics are trite and repetative. Third of all, the video kind of grosses me out.

The amazing moment comes at the very end. After this dumb, mindless song, there is this intriguing lyrical bit tacked on to the end: “nobody loves no one”. It’s intriguing because to me it seems so much darker than the rest of the lyrics (which are mainly trying to be dark, but succeed in only being…trite). No love, ever, is a much more hopeless sentiment than bad love, I think. And yet the words are sung very prettily, with a female harmony accompanying the male lead. Somehow, this little lyrical bit makes me kinda like “Wicked Game” – or at least, take it seriously. It’s amazing that four little words can do that.

Classic rock singers have this operatic compulsion to sing louder, higher, and hold notes longer than anyone ever has before. Brad Delp, of the 70’s band Boston is no exception.

There is one almost-amazing moment and one truly amazing moment in More Than a Feeling, the first song on Boston’s first and self-titled album. Both moments are similar – they even happen on the same word: away. The first moment occurs just before the guitar solo – Delp sings “I see my MaryAnne walkin’ away” with “away” on the root/resolve note, and then continuing to hold the word, he jumps up an octave and THEN another step (total jump of 9 notes) as the guitar takes over the line from him. Upon hearing the song for the first time, anyone would think “that’s it – that’s as high as he goes – there’s your amazing moment”.

Well, that ISN’T it. Because at the end of the last verse, Delp does something similar. “She slipped awayyyyy”...sort of the same deal, except this time he immediately goes up to the high octave root, then down to the fifth, and then he goes up the THIRD above the high octave and then up ONE MORE STEP for the suspension (11 notes above the root). This time the guitar takes over from him seamlessly, so the listener really gets the sense that Delp is holding the note much longer than he should physically be able to. It really IS quite a high note. I am a soprano, and it’s pretty far up in my register.

Pretty amazing for such an overall hokey song.

I never expected to be putting a Police song on this list. I was a sheltered nerd in the 80’s and thus missed out on a lot of the horrible synth sounds and incredible hair…and incredibly bad music. Usually, I’m kind of proud of the fact that I lived through the 80’s but missed them entirely. However, when I listen to The Police, I reconsider. They are an incredible band. I want to be Sting (Police-era Sting, I don’t care for him now) when I grow up as a musician…being S. Copeland wouldn’t be bad either…

“So Lonely” is a fun little song, but amazing it ain’t. It has the same chord progression as Pachabel’s Canon in D, and the same chord progression as a BILLION different pop songs. A satisfying progression, but not amazing. Furthermore, “So Lonely” has only 2 verses, and a chorus that only has 2 words (“so lonely/so lonely/so lonelyyyyy). I don’t think it was a difficult song for them to write.

The amazing part is the third verse, which is not really a verse at all. It’s just Sting riffing on the words “so lonely” over the verse backing track. But Sting being who he is (or was), it gets pretty amazing towards the end. He finally spits out one impassioned “I feel so lonely!” to cap the whole thing off, and I am right there with him. It’s kind of a bouncy happy-sounding song about loneliness allover, but when he finally sings that line, I feel the loneliness. It’s not sad or pathetic, just human and utterly understandable. I think it’s amazing that so much emotion can be conveyed with one trite chord progression and just a few repeated words…

If I had to pick a band (which I hate doing), I’d probably say that Pink Floyd is my overall favorite. I could go on and on about why this is, but that isn’t what this goal is about!

Despite the fact that I love them, I don’t really love “Welcome to the Machine”. I can appreciate it intellectually I guess – it’s basically a lot of sounds centered around this one pitch center. Repetitive, monotone – like a machine. Clever, sure, but amazing? In the course of the whole album, it makes sense. On its own, it’s…well, repetitive and monotone. I like Pink Floyd’s melodies a lot, and it’s sort of disappointing to listen to a song where they don’t really try to do a melody per se…

All that said, there is one lyrical moment that IS amazing to me. And here it is:

“It’s alright, we know where you’ve been.”

I won’t go into a huge discussion here about what this line actually means in the context of the song. But when I look at it alone, it makes me think of some all-seeing dictatory force, appearing benevolent and engaging in light conversation (where have you been?) while knowing more than it should ever rightly know (it’s alright, we know where you’ve been). Very 1984. It gives me delicious paranoid shivers.

Boston, like Journey, is king of the crappy song with the one pretty good part. This song is no exception. Most of it is pretty crappy, or at least cheesy, especially the acoustic break with the hand claps. Yikes.

The intro, Foreplay (classy title, guys) is virtuosic but cheesy itself. However, the last bit of it just before the lyrics is a PERFECT rock ‘n roll crescendo. Not flashy, not complicated, but somehow not cheesy. Each time I hear it, I sort of expect something much better than Long Time to follow it. If only this amazing 10 seconds or less of intro had an equally amazing song to go with it…

Enjoyable, but not a great song. First of all, the lyrics are totally derivative – I bet I could find bits of all of them in other songs. Second of all, one of the refrains is all na-na’s – didn’t take a lot of thought to put that one together.

Even the organ solo is really, really basic. For the most part, it doesn’t sound like much. But towards the end, there is a little section where the organist goes into 16th note triplets, which is not that impressive on its own but amazing when you consider the banality of the rest of the solo.

This one is especially amazing, because the unamazing song comes from a band that was, at one time, truly amazing: Led Zeppelin. I know it is cliched to say so, but they were one of the greats. I had to think long and hard to come up with this one – even Stairway to Heaven, which I hate, is an amazing song in its scope and volume.

But Fool in the Rain is kind of dumb. Not horrible, in truth, a very singable little song – just dumb.

However, the song is rescued (only briefly) by the Latin section, which seems totally out of character for Zep. It’s amazing that it amazes me – it’s the same ol’ chord progression that makes up the ENTIRE song, and the rhythmic pattern is really standard. But it comes out of nowhere, and makes me smile…even though I would be awfully happy if the damned fool in the rain had the sense to look up, open his mouth, and drown himself…