Ding Dong You're Wrong

Ding Dong... You're Wrong Presents: Greatest Songs Ever

THE STORY
I famously (seriously, did Nick Kroll observe my behavior at a bar one night and create Fabrice Fabrice, or is this all a coincidence? And is it wrong that I have a tremendous crush on a fictional character who bears a striking resemblance to myself drunk — well, except the clothes. whoa. — because I totally do. Last night was like a dream, really.)

Anyway, I famously (whatever, I'm still saying it) like to profess, when people are discussing a song that I like (often to talk about hating it, that really gets me going) that the song is on my top 100 greatest songs of all time list.

Which often leads people to ask what #1 is. My answer is generally, "I don't know. Also, shut up."

But yes, I have a feeling I've said this about far more than 100 songs, and I will never be able to rank them at all, but I've decided to start a project here (in association with my MOG page), wherein I begin to take stock of these pronouncements.

Why? Well, I am unemployed and alone all day (um, what do people do in NYC besides work and shop? Because since I'm not doing one, I can't do the other) and it would be nice if I had some body of work to show for my time. And I'm starting to say "This is clearly on my top 100 greatest songs of all time list" to myself. Not OK.

We're starting Monday. Get ready and get into it.

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EXHIBIT 1: "CREEP" by TLC (posted 7.16.2007)

As noted last week, I'm collecting songs that I have deemed among the greatest ever and posting them here for in no particular order. I do this for kicks, for posterity, to be productive and to share the love.

"Creep" by TLC

The greatness of this song inspires me to be greater. The chorus? Killer. The verses? Perfect. The breakdown? Transcendent. And the production? Whoa.

Just this morning, I was marveling over how clean the production is. I would have surgery in it. Tape the song off the radio onto an old Winger cassette single (after taping over the "do not tape over" holes, of course), leave it in a hot car for six months and play it on a boombox with blown speakers and the song still sounds pristine. It is that perfect.

But even more gorgeous that the trunk-tight (Oh yes, Fresh!) production is the song itself. I don't know how I lived without it until 1994. It makes my heart sing. It sounds like a miracle. Plus it is all T-Boz (AKA all cool -- Crazy, Sexy or Cool? There's no doubt what I'd pick) and redefines "astray" in a way that truly makes one go "hmm."

Perfect moments:

Yes, it's deadly from go, with the horn and the "Yes, it's me again." A minute in, you know exactly what's going on. You don't know how fun it is going to be to get there, but that's the magic.

1:54: I keep giving love until the day he pushes me away.

2:06 Whoo!

3:58 Oh I, Oh I, Oh I-high!

Listen up.

Today, I present "Smothered in Hugs," because my sunshine fund is low and because it seems an appropriate send off for the lovely Matt Cullen.

I hated this song when I first heard it, along with everything on Bee Thousand, an album so painfully low-fi that it smacked of a rich kid slumming. Seriously, unless you're living in a cave and recording with rocks, there's no reason for an album to sound that bad.

But a musician whom I love and trust couldn't believe I didn't like the record. "Not even 'Smothered in Hugs?' " he asked. "You'd love that song."

"I believe you/ No need for further questioning/ I'm gonna leave with you/ You can teach me all you know."

I never thought I'd see the day when I'd put Guided by Voices on my 100 greatest list, but I made the decision a year or two ago, long after that big jerk opened my eyes. It took me time to admit it, but this song is something special.

For Labor Day weekend, I present Mike O'Neill's "Andy" because it begins "Andy, the summer's over ..." Oh yes, and also because it's one of the greatest songs ever.

It's a simple little tune, this one. And I can't quite put my finger on why it's devastatingly brilliant, but I surely believe that it is, all 2 minutes and 30 seconds of it.

It has a bit of a dreamy sound to it — you're sort of floating along with him when he hits you with the "to think IT'S OVER!" at exactly the halfway point (genius). And it is certainly fun to sing (I've played it six times today and have belted out every last note along with Mr. O'Neill).

In all, it's a sigh of a song, mournful — about Andy (whoever that is), about time passing, about missing out on whatever it is that's right in front of you — in a tasteful way, with impressive restraint. Love it.