The Earwyrms Canon, Pt. VII: Groove

ISSUE #189

I’m tackling the impossible: the 100 best songs ever recorded. Not ranked from #100 to #1, but instead given their own meaningful sequence, a personal structure to reveal itself over the next few weeks. It will be a compass for navigating my sonic perspective. An Official Earwyrms Canon.

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“Int’l Players Anthem (I Choose You)” | UGK, feat. Outkast
2007

Like The Avengers of Southern hip hop, “Int’l Players Anthem” plays to the strengths of every one of its virtuosic collaborators—the playful escalation of Andre’s “keep your heart” verse, the punch of that anchor-dropping bass and Pimp C’s signature sneer, all on top of DJ Paul and Juicy J’s bright and bubbly Willie Hutch loop that doesn’t seem to have a beginning or an end. It’s a warm cruise-culture classic: the top is down, the pools are full, the players are in love.

“Let’s Get It On” | Marvin Gaye
1973

“Let’s Get It On” is a lesson in perfect orchestration, a taut and treacherous balancing act whose lyrics, in lesser hands, would put you in jail. In Marvin’s, with the strain in his throat and his schoolyard earnestness, they’re the poetry of liberation, especially with the knowledge of his repressed, religious background. A minute in, when we first hear the saxophone after “I love you,” Gaye gives a vulnerable delivery of the song’s best hook: “There’s nothing wrong / with me / loving you.” You can tell he’s convincing himself more than anyone that the feelings we’re given are not shackles, but gifts.

“Age of Consent” | New Order
1983

This is New Order’s reprise to “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” from the synthesized strings that make up hook to the drum line that was lifted from an alternate take of Hannett’s original for Joy Division. Bernard Sumner’s rendition of the emotion at hand has him hitting the ceiling of his upper register, making “Age of Consent” the most overlooked of emo’s early songs.

“I Can’t Go for That (No Can Do)” | Daryl Hall & John Oates
1981

At the end of a recording session for Private Eyes, Daryl Hall was messing around with a preset on the Roland CompuRhythm. He liked what he heard, made a bassline, and called out for Oates, who quickly worked out that slinky guitar line. A minimalist classic was born in a few hours. This is leather jacket midnight music—until the pre-chorus opens up with that hook and those doo-wop backing vocals. The sunglasses come off with a twirl and a perfectly synced toothpaste-commercial smile.

“Groove is in the Heart” | Deee-Lite
1990

On the other hand, there’s the maximalism of “Groove is in the Heart,” a funky 90s collage of a song that sounds like a child slamming their hands on the most expensive sampling equipment in the country. It’s house, it’s salsa, it’s disco. There’s a slide whistle, there’s Q-Tip. I once heard this playing from a front lawn in Home Park at summer’s balmy midnight—I was walking like a duck for the rest of the week.

“Heart of Glass” | Blondie
1978

Debbie Harry was in her late-thirties by the time “Heart of Glass” hit #1. She’d already been a secretary, a Playboy Bunny, a high school dropout, a go-go dancer. She named the band after a catcall she used to get from truckers after she’d dyed her hair. She’s always been untouchable, writes songs like they’re mirages—prismatic, hypnotic, 360-degree camera spins in the middle of the dance floor. One of the women who rocks the most.

“American Boy” | Estelle, feat. Kanye West
2008

This song came at the perfect point in history, an antidote to the 00s belchy pop. Finally, a tune that wasn’t touched by Max Martin. Estelle sounds sexy in a way that’s truly fun—not mysterious, not fake-bubbly, but fun, they way the desirable say everything with a smile, with a voice that sounds eternally approachable. The guitars shimmer like an Italian vacation until they blow the fuck out into a buzzing chorus. This song reminded me what real fun sounds like—Kanye certainly sounds like he’s having it for once.

“Xanadu” | Electric Light Orchestra, feat. Olivia Newton John
1980

Jeff Lynne of ELO—one of our best Jeffs—calls this his favorite song he’s ever written. It made me reconsider what was once a curio. It has the wonderful pop-galactic instrumentation that he’s best at: those space-age phasers, the dramatic cello flourishes, the glimmer and flash of oscillating keyboards. Xanadu has a successor now—Annette owes a debt to this crazy flop by taking some of pop’s biggest weirdos and signing them up to score a fantasia too weird to be truly bad.

“Juicy” | The Notorious B.I.G.
1994

The way each instrument Mtume’s “Juicy Fruit” is isolated and introduced at the perfect time here is a masterclass in sampling. It metes out what we need like a four-course meal. Biggie never had to go too hard—he lays back on his throne, just behind the beat. His lyrics are both inventive and emotional, perfect short stories, an imagist poet doing rhythmic acrobatics and making it look easy.

“Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik” | Outkast
1994

If G-funk had the Pacific breeze reflected in its samples and synths, Outkast evoked the beauty of the heat, baking hotter and hotter as the track plays out. It’s a humid sound, like the mirage that shimmers above cement at 3 p.m. Nothing to see here, just an all-time dynamic duo—a dreamer and a realist—bringing an entire region to the musical forefront and pioneering popular hip hop for the 30 years to come.

Next week—more to come.