The Top 500 is on Spotify! (but not all of it...)

After much searching, clicking, and dragging, I’ve finally imported the Top 500 as public playlist on Spotify.  Get it HERE!

The playlist, however, is incomplete with 28 songs absent from its database, either completely or in terms of the version that I know and love.  Spotify does indeed have a staggering collection of music.  It’s super impressive and convenient.  I would say TOO large and convenient, but that’s another discussion altogether (coming soon!).

So what’s missing?  There are a bunch of songs by local and/or by lesser known artists, many defunct.  There are also fairly well known artists whose Spotify catalogue is incomplete.  This is especially frustrating in relation to Swervedriver (my most favoritist of bands), who have their major studio albums on the site but very limited b-side representation – and in the 90's, these guys were kings of the b-sides. 

Here are the song gaps, in order of their Top 500 position and, with a couple of exceptions, links to hear them.

#1. What Sees The Sky - Mazarin

How frustrating is it that MY ALL-TIME FAVORITE SONG is not on Spotify.  When I picked this song as my number one, I was legitimately surprised.  I wasn’t consciously trying to be snobbish or supercilious selecting it for the revered top spot. It just legitimately turned out this way.  See one of my earliest posts for my reckoning of this supreme track.  Listen here.

#6.  She’s Beside Herself - Swervedriver

My most favorite Swervedriver song is this b-side of the Rave Down EP.  A languid, lyrically ambiguous psych-grunge anthem centred around an irresistable riff and wall of sound guitar solos that will paste you against the wall.  Fun fact!  In 2014 Adam Franklin, as a solo artist, commissioned his fans to request reworked covers of his own back catalog, and I jumped in with this song (among 32 other lucky requesters).  My specially requested cover appears on digital release All Happening Now, Vol. 2, and is the placeholder on the Spotify Top 500 playlist.  Even more cool?  Adam sent me his cover but then decided to rework it for the digital release – which means I have an additional version of this song that no one in the world has, a true one of kind version of my 6^th all time favorite song (except I think I maybe shared it on the fan site – I just don’t remember).  Here is the original.

#11.  This Is England – The Clash

I’m certain this would be considered heresy to the world-wide  legions of Clash fans.  But it’s true, my number one favorite Clash song and eleventh all-time song is from 1985’s Cut The Crap, the post-Mick Jones record that was formally disavowed by Joe Strummer and Paul Simonon, and purged from The Clash’s official discography as a horrible mistake.  I don’t think its as bad as all that, but I’m sure the emotional baggage that centred around the record was way too heavy for Joe when the dust settled, having been cajoled and artistically swindled by manager, “producer”, and all-round asshole Bernie Rhodes.  But…This Is England was an instant classic in my mind. Strummer singled it out years later as a pretty good song and it does in fact appear in the singles box set, a pretty meaningful concession.  But it does not, sad to say, live on Spotify.  You can hear it here. 

#36. Foxes (Sighing Like A Furnace) – Sparrow House

If you were to combine the dimensions of “most favorite song” and “most obscure song” and apply it to the Top 500, “Foxes (Sighing Like A Furnace)” would be your result.  Sparrow House was the solo side project of Jared Van Fleet, former keyboardist of Voxtrot and member of Yellow Ostrich.  Sparrow House released one humble EP (Falls) in 2007, and it is beautiful display of home recorded indie folk, recalling Elliott Smith or The Kingsbury Manx.  All of it is lovely, but "Foxes" is sublime.  I remember thinking it was foolhardy to put such a recent and obscure song so high into the list – surely it would age away from such greatness.  But I did not relent and ten years later I think I feel #36 is not high enough.  Gorgeous, nostalgic, shimmering folk.  Sink into it here.

#62. Cars Converge on Paris - Swervedriver

Another epic B-side, “Cars Converge” is a slowly evolving/looping minimalist piece, with layer after shimmering layer of psychedelic guitar, a bouncy bass line, and an oblique anti-capitalist narrative.  It originally appeared on the super rare US promo of the Last Train To Satansville EP, making it, back in the day, the holy grail of the Swervedriver catalog.  I remember shaking my head when I first heard it – THIS didn’t make the album?  The song now appears on the 2005 compilation Juggernaut Rides (now also rare as it turns out) and the CD reissues of Mezcal Head – but why aren’t the reissues, which have B-sides as bonus tracks, not on Spotify?  Annoying. Check out the song here instead.

#86 Pigs on the Wing, parts 1 and 2– Pink Floyd

For the longest time 1977’s Animals was never a big Floyd album for me, which is strange given my reverence for the follow up The Wall (#2 album of all time, possibly?). But I LOVED Pigs on the Wing, which I heard time to time in early university, 1988-1992.  I also think I was not even aware that part 2 ended the album.  But then I kind of forgot about these two short acoustic love songs that bookended the record.   In any case, when Napster and Limewire emerged I went searching for the track and quite randomly landed the version that joins parts 1 and 2 with a guitar solo.  Where did this come from?  Years later, I discovered that this unified version was only available on the 8-track version, which allowed the listener to loop from side 1 to side 2 continuously – the band took advantage of this format to link the two parts with the instrumental bridge.  It also appeared on a promo single b/w a radio edit of "Sheep". The guitar solo, by the way, was performed by Snowy White not David Gilmour.  You’d be forgiven for thinking it was Gilmour though, as White seems to have absolutely perfected Gilmour’s sound.  The bottom line is that I’ve always heard Pigs on the Wing parts 1 and 2 as a single song, but this amalgamated version is not on Spotify – so the playlist just has the two parts clunkily sitting in sequence.  Hear the combined version here.

#121. Cantina – Richard Davies

Here is another criminally underrated artist.  Australian Richard Davies dazzled me with 1997’s Telegraph, and the gem among the gems is “Cantina”, a rollicking road-weary chamber-poppin’ song that absolutely sparkles.   The production is particularly brilliant, like it was recorded by Sir George Martin.  I also recommend his two other solo albums and his work with Cardinal and The Moles. Check the song out here.

#136. Prague – Mega City Four

"Prague" appeared on mixtape from a friend and I have been in love with it ever since – a indie rock anthem full of regret and wistfulness, with a simple two-chord riff that digs its claws into you.  I have the album that houses the song (Sebastopol Rd.) but for some reason I am pretty unfamiliar with it, or the band in general (although I can at least say they sound like Ash, Adorable, and Oasis).  I did some Wiki reading to discover this British outfit released eight albums between 1989 and 1996, along with twice as many singles.  I also discovered that the guitarist, Darren “Wiz” Brown, joined Canadian outfit Doughboys (!) and, sadly, passed in 2006 from a brain aneurysm.   Perhaps I should be diving into their back catalog, but not on Spotify, which has only one album.  Check out Prague here.

 

#202. Paris Sous La Neige - Mellow

I think I first heard this impossibly catchy, summery, groove-pop on a Magnet or CMJ magazine sampler.  Whatever their exposure was back in the early aughts, Mellow faded from view after a couple years.  While the song clearly dates to the late 90s rave-up excesses of the new electro pop (think Soup Dragons, Jesus Jones, and Happy Mondays) and the euro-cool schtick is a little thick, the song is still just a ultra-fun, carefree ear worm.  Check it here.

#203. Fuzzy Sun – Jim O’Rourke

Experimental outsider label Drag City had, until recently, been slow to hop on the Spotify free streaming bandwagon, leaving us wanting for the sounds of Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Broadcast, and Bill Callahan (and 100+ other acts).  That’s changed recently, with much of their roster starting to show up.  But not yet the full discography of producer/agitator Jim O’Rourke.  One of his prettiest – but shockingly subversive and probably just offensive – EPs, Halfway To A Threeway, remains unrepresented.  Contained therein is “Fuzzy Sun”, a brilliant little piece of jazz-folk that sits comfortably alongside fellow Chicago outfits The Sea and Cake, Sam Prekop, Archer Prewitt, and Gastr Del Sol.  Hear it here.

#234. Ain’t That The Way – Royal City

Royal City, named after the alias of my hometown of Guelph, was a local supergroup of brilliant indie-folksters Aaron Riches, Jim Guthrie, Nathan Lawr and others, active from 2001 to 2004.  Gorgeous bittersweet harmonies, gentle arrangements, and an (un)healthy dose of general ennui made them particularly fetching.  “Ain’t That The Way” on 2004’s swan song Little Hearts Ease perfects their sound, completely disarming me every time. I can't find a playable stream anywhere, or even an mp3 download option.  Frustrating...but lots of affordable CD copies on Ebay, so I suggest you buy it.

#239. Holland – Paul MacLeod

Curse the world that took Paul MacLeod, local troubadour, sometimes member of the Skydiggers, and an all-round Canadian talent that deserved more than he got.  It was our tradition for all of us grad school friends to sit on the Jimmy Jazz patio every Monday night for pitchers and Paul, often with partner Danny Michel, for a slew of amazing covers and, over time, some truly inspired originals.  Few songs pull my heartstrings like “Holland”, which signifies and memorializes one of my most favorite life eras.  The song didn’t appear in studio form until 2007’s Bright Eyes Fade.  It’s a great version, but does not capture the song at its stripped down best, live on a summer patio, Guelph Ontario, circa 2001.  I somehow acquired a live version (off a long-defunct web page), recorded at a small humble festival held in a barn somewhere in the farm lands of Southwest Ontario.  It’s perfect. I can’t find this anywhere online, but here is a comparable version from a 2012 set at the Jane Bond in Waterloo, Ontario.  His whole catalog, absent from Spotify, needs exploring.  Rest in peace, Paul.

#275. What Fran Said – Five Guys Named Moe

Undoubtedly taking their name from a mid-forties musical, this group of Ottawans came and went with two singles and one album circa 1990.  Once you get past the references to the stage musical (and some contemporary Chicago bar band) you can find a smattering of online references to Five Guys, typically on blogs lamenting their almost complete disappearance.  Their self-titled album is an absolute rarity in physical form with virtually no online presence (although there is a 5 sentence write up on Allmusic and a Discogs entry).  A shame.  They were a super talented bunch, marrying a folky template with upbeat multi-instrumental chops and soaring harmonies.  Their closest comparators may be Lloyd Cole, Hothouse Flowers, Poi Dog Pondering, or local Guelph heroes Black Cabbage.   “What Fran Said”, a rollicking countrified sparkler, is my favorite from what is a really great album and a lost Canadian classic.  The song (and full album) are on Youtube here.

#277. Wichita Lineman – Optiganally Yours

I hope we can all agree that Glen Campbell’s Wichita Lineman is genius songwriting.  Put into the hands of the inscrutable weirdos of Optiganally Yours and you have a whole other approach to the song’s greatness.  OY is tough to categorize; they produce a sort of kitchen-sink analog melting pot of found sounds and poppy hooks, centred around the mid-70’s Mattel instrument, the Optigan.  Every song is a retro-futuristic, genre-pillaging anachronism.  Hard not to admire but tough to love too much.  But their take on Lineman is really special, turning it from a heartfelt easy listening tune into a bizarro RnB groove that would fit in seamlessly on Beck’s Odelay.  From the 1997 LP Spotlight on Optiganlly Yours. Check it out here.

#313. Xmas Trip – Run On

This is a strange gap on Spotify for sure.  Run On were part of the B-list roster of 90’s indie rock trailblazers Matador Records, who gave us the more well-known and revered bands of that era: Pavement, Yo La Tengo, Guided By Voices, Liz Phair, etc.  Run On was B-list merely in terms of exposure, however; they were a pistol hot, art-punk quartet formed in New York, with ties to the noisy no-wave scene.  While members have stayed active in different projects, the Run On name was retired after two albums and a handful of singles and EPs.  “X-mas Trip” is a carousing, galloping pop punk song owing a debt to Yo La Tengo, Pere Ubu, or even The Cramps.  I love the lyrics, which create a time and place of memory, as if it were your own: “The casssette of Daydream Nation worn out / The Bernadette Peters autograph on my cast / The CBGB's T-shirt I’m wearing / The drive down from St. John was almost always easy / The drive back on Christmas Day was not".  Check out Xmas Trip here.

#328.  Flawed – Swervedriver

Yet ANOTHER Swervedriver B-side (from the 1991 Sandblasted EP) that is as strong as any album cut.  It is a searing, fiery showcase of the bands wholly unique dueling guitar sound of overdriven fuzz, Jazzmaster pitch-bending, and what I believe is a broken distortion pedal of Adam Franklin’s (a unique sound that appears on a lot of early Swervedriver).  Drummer Graham Bonner hits like John Bonham and Franklin sings with a faraway, lachrymose voice that appears on number of their early tracks (like “Sunset”, “Scrawl and Scream”, and “She’s Beside Herself”).  The song suddenly devolves into an extended psychedelic coda of off-beat finger-picking, swells of distortion, and a fuzzed out wah that prefigures 1993’s epic “Duress”.  Hear the amazingness here.

#332. Icebox – Electrolyte

Alone at conference in Halifax in 2008, I drifted down to a rock club to check out some bands and was treated to an amazing double bill comprised of a band whose name fails me (possibly called Parks and Recreation?) and Electrolyte, a short-lived indie rock outfit led by Neil Gunn.  Gunn maintains a bandcamp page of his own music (under the moniker Clint Driftwood), which includes Electrolyte’s sole album Evil in Joy.  If memory serves, I think I had to email the guy to get a copy the self-released album, as it wasn’t quite ready for the gig.  So I suppose this could very well be the most obscure song on the Top 500 (with the possible exception of “Foxes (Sighing Like A Furnace)” by Sparrow House). “Icebox” hits that indie rock sweet spot of 90’s Matador/Merge, referencing bands like Pavement, Versus, Chavez, Superchunk, and Butterglory.  Evil In Joy, and this track in particular, deserves recognition and props. Check it out here.

#343 Colours - Donovan

Classic folk song “Colours” is of course on Spotify, but only the single version that appears on 1965’s Fairytale.  Much more familiar to me is the version on his 1969 Greatest Hits release.  Apparently Epic records were unable or unwilling to secure the rights to the original recording of Colours (as well as “Catch the Wind”) and so Donovan re-recorded a new version (with Led Zeppelin’s John Paul Jones on bass and Big Jim Sullivan on guitar).  I think this is a better version and one wonders if it was closer to Donovan’s vision, since he clearly didn’t try to emulate the first one.  Oddly, the Greatest Hits LP is not on Spotify – this is surprising because it includes non-album singles and these two important reworkings.  Check out the better Colours here.

#356. The Other Jesus – Swervedriver

Here we go with Swervedriver again.  Sigh.  The band was left in limbo in 1995 when A&M announced a long delay of the release of Ejector Seat Reservation.  When the band asked to get out of their contract (and they were), home UK label Creation dropped them right after the domestic release, which quickly went out of print and was not available at all in North America.  Sony had licensed the rights and so we have seen some limited reissues over the years, but never for digital purchase or streaming.  Criminal!  This is an epic record.  The Other Jesus – which clearly should have been the single, but Creation demanded it be Last Day On Earth to align with the britpop of the day – is guitar pop genius.  Starting with a menacing bass line, the song suddenly jumps into an uplifting melody that sounds like the Byrds or the Beatles were transplanted right into the middle of the 90’s.  Listening to ESR, there is no damn reason, other than bad luck, that Swervedriver should not have had the same career arc as Stone Temple Pilots or Blur or The Smashing Pumpkins.  Superior to all comers, yet this album still languishes.  Listen here!

#362. Walkin’ With Jesus – Spacemen 3 

Drone pop grandfathers Spacemen 3 gave us simple and catchy minimalist songs (or jams) dressed up in layers of guitar, reverb, and overall drugginess.  I was always partial to Spiritualized, the post S3 band of Jason Pierce (or J. Spaceman), which always seemed a little more advanced and nuanced (but still basic at the core).  In fact, it was Spiritualized that led me back to this original incarnation, and while I enjoy lots of it, nothing quite grabs me like "Walkin’ With Jesus", an irreverent tongue in cheek conversation with the man himself about how earth is probably a lot more fun.  Silly lyrics aside, what I love about this track is the discipline of the band to keep it minimalist – two alternating organ chords, a looping bass line, a simple acoustic guitar, plaintive vocals, and just a wee bit of extra electric guitar for a solo.  Clearly influenced by the Velvet Underground, Spacemen 3 were adept at bringing a sort of underground soul to a DIY asethetic.  No Spacemen 3 on Spotify!  I have slotted in a weak live version, by Spiritualized, as a proxy. Walk with Jesus here.

#364. Chinese Bones – Robyn Hitchcock

Another super random casualty of the streaming business.  Robyn Hitchcock has loads of material on Spotify but not one of my favorite albums of all time “Globe of Frogs”.  I review this album in my Top 20 of 1988 post, so I won’t go into detail here.  Chinese Bones is one of many highlights on the album, all of which flirted with my Top 500.  Check out this brilliant freaky folk (and the signature arpeggios of R.E.M. guitarist Peter Buck) here.

#386 Fleas Don’t Fly – Arnold

In the middle of the Britpop conflagration of the late 1990’s were Arnold.  I’ll never understand why these guys did not go BIG!  They used the same sonic playbook as Oasis, The Verve, Suede, Ash, Supergrass, etc.  But the production was somehow more lush and intimate, and with vocal harmonies that bested all-comers.  More importantly, the hooks were huge and unforgettable.  They were also on famed UK label Creation and stayed on with label-founder Alan McGee, moving with him to Poptunes when Creation expired.  Yet they only managed three albums in a short four-year period of music making.  I have little knowledge of what happened to these guys.  Its frustrating

because they were pretty freaking great.  "Fleas Don’t Fly" was released as the first single for the 2^nd album, the critically praised Hillside.  It is a beautiful, floaty, open-string acoustic number, with a chord change announcing the chorus that is positively irresistible.  Float to it here.

#387 Prison Memoirs of an Anarchist – Fembots

The Fembots were a Toronto indie band active in the late 90’s to the mid-00’s.  While starting out decidedly experimental (with power tools, toy instruments, and loops), the album Small Town Murder Scene reined that into a fine batch of gothic-country tunes – atmospheric, woeful, and poignant.  Think Rock Plaza Central, early Akron/Family, Wilco, or even Handsome Furs.  This song sends me back to those wonderful years of 2003-2005 when the best music on the planet all seemed to come from Canada.  The lyrics here are fascinating, paraphrasing the resistance politics of, I assume, Alexander Berkman, a Russian émigré to the US and anarchist in the late 19^th century, as there is an autobiography with the same title as the song: “Let them break their bats on our heads, let them drown their guns in our blood, we’ll stay frozen in this fight forever / Let them hold their breath for all time, let them waste their lives trying to hang on to what can’t be owned”.  A brilliant requiem.  Resist it here.

#410. Wake Up – Barmitzvah Brothers

The incorrigible Barmitzvah Brothers, teenage outsider savants homegrown in Guelph (my town), gave us many albums throughout the 00’s, and loom larger than usual on this track, adding more members, chops, and an obvious pop sensibility.  I reviewed this a long ago on this space – read it here. I can't find a streaming source though!

#414 Sun On His Back – Camera Obscura

“Sun on His Back” IS in fact on Spotify, part of Camera Obscura’s debut album, Biggest Bluest Hi-Fi.  It’s a splendid, nostaglic track that aligns comfortably with Belle and Sebastian and UK twee folk pop. But my problem is that my preferred version includes a simple instrumental trumpet lead, replacing an unsatisfying banjo part.  The trumpet suddenly gives the song an unexpected mariachi feel and it’s what I am used to.  I have no idea where I got this version of the song (an mp3) – I cannot for the life of me find it on any official release, or anywhere for that matter.  If anyone can identify where it comes from, please let me know.  The next step is to query the C.O. facebook group, but I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.  This stands as one of the few songs in the Top 500 that I do not have in physical form (acknowledging the unique circumstances of #86 above).  So, yah, I can’t direct you to my preferred version, but the album version is in the Spotify playlist, and here’s a live version…with trumpet!

#432  The Streets That Spin Off – Toshack Highway

Post-Swervedriver, lead singer Adam Franklin formed an interim project called Toshack Highway, producing a whole treasure trove of excellent songs that you will not find on Spotify (there is one EP on there).  In Swervedriver’s heyday of North American touring, the band became fast friends with Burlington Ontario’s Sianspheric (and I simultaneously became a huge fan).  This was a wonderful development for me personally, as it meant that Adam Franklin, having relocated to New Jersey, came up to Ontario pretty often on tour.  One outcome was a double EP, a Canadian pressing that paired a five-song Sianspheric release (Asprin Age) and a five-song TH release (Magentic Morning).  It’s all awesome, but I was especially stoked by the TH songs, which moved away from the synthesizer heavy first album and toward a sort of natural extension of Swervedriver’s Ejector Seat Reservation and 99^th Dream.  Certainly it’s more muted, without the sprawling guitars we were used to, but it’s still rich and complex.  “The Streets That Spin Off” is particularly impressive, with amazing arpeggiated acoustic guitar looping and circling around some great chord progressions, shifting time signatures, and varied pacing.  Hear this underheard classic here.  A reworked (and stripped down) version is also on the Spotify playlist as a placeholder.

#452. Weed King – Guided By Voices

There is a live version of this song (from 1992's Propeller LP) on Spotify, but it is so goddamn awful I refuse to include it on my playlist.  The sound quality is terrible and Robert Pollard is way out of tune, sounding (as was often the case) completely loaded.  This should not imply, however, that the studio version is hi-fidelity.  Like much of the album, it sounds like basement 4-track cassette recording, with odd cut-outs and tape hiss.  This seems wholly intentional on the part of the band, striving for a true DIY sound and aesthetic.  Such recording limitations cannot, however, tame the full-on rock power of Weed King!  I confess I cannot figure out what this song is about and I don't think I need to know.  What I do know is that it moves from a dark minor key lament into a crescendoing bridge that ultimately launches a classic garage rock anthem.  For the dreams of the weed king we all sing!  Listen here.

#485 Preto O Branco – Maria João and Mario Laginha

This one was off my own beaten path.  I was perusing in Vortex Records circa 1999 and they were playing this…this Portuguese bossanova experimental jazz bop...or something. I loved it immediately, I loved the interplay between the straight up bouncing jazz (similar to Vince Gauraldi of Peanuts soundtrack fame) crossed with the odd-ball improv-jazz vocals of Maria João.  Few I've played this for can get past Maria's shrill vocals but if you like Kate Bush you may have no issue. Just try it. Her range is extraordinary and this is an amazing song, with a mid-song jazz interlude that is wonderful.  And it’s happy and energizing, even without understanding the lyrics. I’ve put a live version from Spotify in as a placeholder, but go to the superior original here.

And there we have it...the scattered and lost tracks of the Top 500, victims of the age of streaming, collected here for posterity and access.