Dylan: Tempestuous to the End

Early reports on Dylan’s new album, Tempest (released on 9/11 like his eponymous debut record and 2001’s Love and Theft), suggested that it is his darkest record yet. This notion is belied by the upbeat breeziness of the album’s two opening tunes. But it is, in fact, a fairly accurate assessment of the album’s remaining eight tracks.

Tempest, even more than most Dylan offerings, is all about the words. The music, while adequate, mainly just sets the groove over which the Bard’s verses – and there are many! – unfold. Music wise, there are few hooks, memorable melodies or “catchy“ tunes.

For many, that may be fine, since Dylan really is about the wordplay and the message. For me, though, the coupling of those things with poignant music is what distinguishes Dylan’s most lasting work from the rest of the chaff, and there's no denying: the musical muscle – in the songs – not the musicianship – is a bit lacking on Tempest.

That said, there are a few unsuspected standouts musically, even little things like the maracas on “Early Roman Times”; the downshift of the rhythm section that segues into the some tasty, understated lead guitar in the coda of “Duquesne Whistle” and the interplay of the various stringed instruments on “Scarlet Town.”

With so much focus on the words, though, I do wonder how much of the verbiage is Dylan’s doing and how much came from the pen of co-lyricist Robert Hunter (he of Grateful Dead renown). The themes certainly echo Dylan’s particular – some might say peculiar – views.

In talking about this new batch of songs to Rolling Stone a few weeks before its release, Dylan said that he initially thought he was going to do a religious album, but it turned out to be something else. I’m not sure how true that is. It’s not unlike Bob to be coy about such matters. 

I hear definite religious aspects in much of Tempest. No, it’s not the overt proselytizing of Dylan’s notorious late ’70s Born Again phase as heard on Saved or Slow Train Coming, but there is definitely an apocryphal vision running through much of the album that represents Dylan’s ongoing fascination with the End Times. That’s OK, though. Done right, it’s good subject matter.

For me, the peak of the album comes about midway through with the one-two punch of “Scarlet Town” and “Early Roman Kings.” The former, the album’s best track, is a dark, banjo and haunting fiddle-driven folk ballad. The latter, though lyrically one of the better songs, is an endlessly chugging blues, enlivened only by the swampy organ and effect-laden harmonica bursts. The band churns away beneath Bob’s verses of dispirited, ill-fated people living in a depraved world. Dylan still digs Armageddon.

There are two parlor ballads that evoke images of the 1890s: the album’s jaunty opener “Duquesne Whistle” and the tale of the Titanic told in the album’s title track. Dylan goes on to croon romantically over weeping pedal steel on the ’50s-ish pop ballad tonality of “Soon After Midnight.”

The rest of the way, though, the music is bluesy vamps, shuffles (“Narrow Way”) and pulsing banjo-propelled dirges (“Tin Angel”) mixed with haunting, minor key, folk ballads. The one exception is “Pay in Blood,” which sounds like a mid-tempo, modern-era Stones song with multi-layered instrumentation featuring prominent electric piano and guitar.

Overall, Tempest is a decent, listenable, modern era Dylan album. It ranks above Modern Times (2006) and Together Through Life (2009), not quite on par with Love and Theft (2001) and nowhere near Time Out of Mind (1997). A Gentleman’s B.

Septuagenarian!

Happy Birthday, Bob! ... May you be forever young.

Read It in Books

Good for Bob Dylan, taking to the typewriter ... err, computer (maybe) ... to set the record straight regarding alleged censorship by the Chinese government during his recent concerts in the People’s Republic (which “people” is that exactly?). True to form, old Bob does a wonderful job of subtly skewering both the (lazy/sensationalistic) media, as well as a certain (unnamed) concert promoter.

But my favorite part of Bob’s rare personal note addressing the whole affair, published today on his website, is his concluding paragraph: characteristically sarcastic yet clearly written with a twinkle in his eye:

Everybody knows by now that there’s a gazillion books on me either out or coming out in the near future. So I’m encouraging anybody who’s ever met me, heard me or even seen me, to get in on the action and scribble their own book. You never know, somebody might have a great book in them.

Read the Homer of Hibbing’s full note on the matter here.

The 32 Best Opening Tracks of All Time

OK, I admit it. I’m beginning to get tapped out. I know, hard to believe with a music obsessive like me, but it’s the truth. I’ve done as many “Father Knows Best” Box Sets of CD collections for my teenage daughter as I can think of without completely forcing the concept simply for the concept’s sake, rather than the music’s sake. (Best Foreign Language Rock Songs, anyone?)

So this year, rather than the usual collection of 10 personally selected CDs nestled under the umbrella of some arbitrary theme – Best Debut Albums, Best Live Albums, Most Underrated Albums – I’m delivering my now 15-year-old music-loving daughter one CD (OK, it’s a double CD) highlighting the 32 “Best Opening Tracks of All Time.”

What makes a great opening track? Well, obviously, it must grab you right away. There has to be a dramatic sense of lift off. And it sets the tone for the rest of the album. Some first tracks might be great songs – “Like a Rolling Stone,” “Achilles Last Stand” and “Where the Streets Have No Name” come to mind – but that doesn’t quite make them the best opening tracks. Those are a tune of a different color.

Some bands are particularly adept when it comes to opening tracks, consistently delivering in ways that few others can match. In my catalog of favorites, that would be The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin. (Bob Dylan doesn’t do too badly either.)

Think about it. Every Led Zeppelin album except Presence began with a monster opening track – featuring some of the heaviest guitar riffs, drum fills and wailing vocals in rock history. (Ironically, Zep’s one opening misfire was “Achilles Last Stand,” quite possibly the band’s best song ever in my book, but not necessarily a great opening track.) Then there’s The Rolling Stones: “Sympathy for the Devil,” “Gimme Shelter,” “Brown Sugar,” “Rocks Off,” “It’s Only Rock and Roll,” “Miss You” and “Start Me Up” … What more proof do you need?

Of course, the whole concept of a great opening track is predicated on the idea of an album as a specifically sequenced series of songs: something that is quickly fading from public perception – except, perhaps, among us older folks – if not artistic consciousness. Nevertheless, once upon a time that meant something; and how albums began and ended was an important consideration (as was even how side two started in the pre-CD vinyl era).

So here is my “Best Opening Tracks of All Time” playlist:

• “Whole Lotta Love” – II, Led Zeppelin – The greatest rock riff of all time – OK, in close competition with “Satisfaction” and “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” – paired with the greatest lead guitar break, drum fill and vocal orgasm ever. Res ipsa loquitur.

• “Gimme Shelter” – Let It Bleed, The Rolling Stones – The definition of “classic.” Totally anchored in the late ’60s, yet somehow still contemporary. Pulsing rhythm, menacingly intercedent lead guitar, wailing blues harp and killer background vocals … All that and one of the best maracas parts this side of Santana!

• “London Calling” – London Calling, The Clash – Talk about kicking off an album with jaunty swagger! One of the great classics from the second generation of English rock musicians. Sounds as good today as it did in 1979.

• “Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground” – De Stilj, The White Stripes – Raw force blasts out of the speakers like a slowed down Stooges giving way to an edgy, but understated, melody before bursting back into the ripping chords of the chorus. Proof you don’t need more than simple drums, simple guitar, sincere singing, a good arrangement and crisp recording. Great use of dynamics. Sounds loud at any volume.

• “Lively Up Yourself” – Natty Dread, Bob Marley and The Wailers – The song that first bridged the rock-reggae genre and turned all the Brits on to reggae (Jagger/Richards, Clapton, Page, Parker, et al really took this to heart). The Live version is better, but it doesn’t kick off that album.

• “Subterranean Homesick Blues” – Bringing It All Back Home, Bob Dylan – Right from the start, this song announced a “new Dylan.” The young troubadour was turning on, turning it up and channeling the spirit of Kerouac and Ginsburg, rather than Woody Guthrie. This song embraces the 1960s’ counter-culture while conjuring twisted images of the old-timey Midwest. “You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.”

• “Planet Telex” – The Bends, Radiohead – One of the first great “post-modern” album tracks. Supremely original, yet still referential. The sound of the future arriving. This album, and the next one (OK Computer), would make Radiohead the biggest band in the word for awhile – until they decided, “Enough of that!”

• “Baba O’Riley” – Who’s Next, The Who – The most famous synthesizer riff of all time sets up that classic, crashing entrance of three chords (you know, the ones that tell the truth). So much more than “teenage wasteland” … though that still resonates in many ways, too. A great start to one of the best sounding Who albums (thank you, Glyn Johns).

• “Rocks Off” – Exile on Main Street, The Rolling Stones – This song doesn’t quite fit the criteria for great opening track the way most of the others on this list do. On the surface, it’s a straightforward mid-tempo rocker, but buoyant subtleties in vocals and instrumentation make it more than just another sprightly Stones song. The result is a perfect start to one of the band’s best albums. Great horns by Bobby Keys, and Nicky Hopkins’s piano jousts with Keith’s chords as the song gallops along. Some tasty Mick Taylor guitar licks buried in the mix, too.

• “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” – Crosby, Stills, Nash, Crosby, Stills, Nash – It’s not easy for a predominantly acoustic song to make this list, but this is what had people seriously calling CSN “the American Beatles” for a short while in 1969-1970. Despite the acoustic feel, there is some perfectly understated electric guitar, too. Then, of course, there’s the ever-present, incomparable vocal harmonies. This song is the apex of Stephen Stills’ artistic accomplishments, and a fully developed template for what CSN would be as a band.

• “Break On Through (To the Other Side)” – The Doors, The Doors – Another great riff that kick starts an album and sets the tone for all that follows. Urgent, with a hint of reckless abandon. It’s easy to focus on the guitar riffs and the organ rhythms, but it’s Densmore’s drumming that makes the track what it is. Interestingly, Morrison’s vocals are rather unremarkable on this one.

• “Immigrant Song” – III, Led Zeppelin – Viking plunder meets hippie consciousness. That opening vocal wail, the funky shuffling drums and the leaden bass/guitar riff yield the sound of the “Hammer of the Gods.” Quite a start to the band’s … ahem … “acoustic” album. Ironically, this is the only Zep song with no guitar solo!

• “World Shut Your Mouth” – Saint Julian, Julian Cope – Edgy 1980s’ pop at its best since The Clash’s pop dabblings. Radio friendly, but retaining some spunk. Great production, too. Sonically, kind of an English forerunner to Cracker in some ways, now that I think about it. The peak of Cope’s career, really – representing a small window of lucidity between acid casualty and eco-earth-mother-archdrude nutcase.

• “Smells Like Teen Spirit” – Nevermind, Nirvana – I have to admit, I was never as smitten with Nirvana as many of my peers and those slightly younger seemed to be. Nevertheless, it’s undeniable that the slackers from Seattle did popularize a noteworthy new coalescence of influences in the form of “grunge.” And “Here we are, entertain us,” does pretty much speak to the attitude of a generation. Yet, ultimately, “Well, whatever, nevermind,” really says it all.

• “Come Together” – Abbey Road, The Beatles – Lennon cops some Chuck Berry lyrics and pairs them with some funky organ riffs and alternately shimmering and piercing guitar fills. One of the best return-to-basics tunes of the mature Beatles’ career. Nice double-tracking on the lead vocals, too. The rest of Abbey Road followed the tone established on this one.

• “Fisherman’s Blues” – Fisherman’s Blues, The Waterboys – Another of the rare acoustic numbers to make this list. Carried by exuberant Celtic fiddle and dream-filled vocals, this song is simplicity perfected (musically and lyrically), punctuated by a spirited delivery. Not just the namesake for the album, but a grand announcement that The Waterboys were serious about their stay in Ireland. The beginning of a lush and fruitful idea, indeed.

• “Trenchtown Rock” – Live!, Bob Marley and the Wailers – One the greatest starts to a live album ever. Though rather than kicking out the jams right from the get go, this stays true to reggae form and eases into the spirit of things, gently setting the mood with a understated rhythm and laid-back melody. “One good thing about music, when it hits you feel no pain. So hit me with music. Hit me with music now.” … Words to live by.

• “Don’t Bang the Drum” – This Is the Sea, The Waterboys – The last album airing “the big music” that The Waterboys built their early career on – before heading to the craggy terrain of Western Ireland and embracing the Celtic twilight. Roddy Lorimer’s opening trumpet solo provides a unique anticipatory lull before the band kicks into an epic sounding, mid-tempo rocker about “deliverance, or history, under these skies so blue.” Anto Thistlethwaite’s sax joins the trumpet, distorted guitars, keyboards, drums and Mike Scott’s hoots and Dylanesque chants for the clamorous climax: “Just let it come, don’t bang the drum!”

And kicking off Disc 2:

• “In a Big Country” – The Crossing, Big Country – Unfairly pigeon-holed as a band of plaid-wearing Scotsmen with bagpipe-sounding guitars at the dawn of the MTV-era, Big Country was nothing short of a great band for a few albums. This first song on their debut album set the stage. Yes, there were guitars with bagpipe-like effects, but plenty of others, too. And paired with Mark Brezecki’s huge drum sound and Tony Butler’s funky bass, there was something more sophisticated and emotive in this song than the stereotype suggests. Big Country were masters at interweaving ancestral melodies with modern pop-rock sounds, subtle-yet-spirited instrumentation and Stuart Adamson’s atavistic romanticism.

• “Rough Boys” – Empty Glass, Pete Townshend – To this day, Empty Glass remains, to me, Townshend’s best solo album. In fact, this far surpassed what The Who were doing by this point (1980). I think Pete knew that, too. Sophisticated songwriting and arrangements – just as you’d expect from Townshend: nuanced and ripping at the same time. Sounds like he’s worked up some ire not heard since he’d venomously written: “Who the fuck are you?”

• “I Will Follow” – Boy, U2 ­– Like many lead tracks on great debut albums, this was an announcement of arrival, an auspicious start, yet one that now sounds quaint. As dated as it is, that ringing E string and the tinkling triangle remain uniquely engaging. There is a reason that this induced early ’80s’ pop audiences to frenetic pogoing.

• “Shot of Love” – Shot of Love, Bob Dylan – Apocalyptic and pleading, this was the fading echo of Dylan’s gospel period. But it’s also a great, funky, pseudo-gospelesque rocker that has the old bard spitting lyrics like he did at the height of the ’60s. He’s propelled along by Clydie King’s impassioned vocals and Fred Tackett’s rocking guitar.

• “Young Man Blues” – Live at Leeds, The Who – Not the start of the live concert from which it was taken, but the perfect start for the live E.P. that really helped The Who establish sound footing for their career in the U.S. Great as he was, Mose Allison (the song’s composer) never envisioned this!

• “Search and Destroy” – Raw Power, Iggy and the Stooges – Raw power, indeed! Wholly defined by the line, “I’m a street-walking cheetah with a heart full of nepalm.” It’s the quintessential counterpoint to the peace-and-love side of the equation in 1969. The bridge between Eddie Cochran, The Ramones and The Sex Pistols if there ever was one.

• “Finest Worksong” – Document, R.E.M. ­– A somewhat forgotten dose of R.E.M.’s early forays into harder rock, but this song and the album it leads off remain among my favorites by the boho’s from Athens. I played the grooves off this L.P. back in 1987 (and later the zeroes and ones out of the CD version). “What we want and what we need, has been confused” … and it often still is.

• “Wait for the Black Out” – The Black Album, The Damned – A powerful song, despite the now muffled sounding recording (or maybe it’s my hearing that is now muffled). This was the midpoint between the thrashing guitar and pounding drums of the seminal punk band’s early days and their later ultra pop ventures (before they concluded as a heavy metal band, of course). As such, it’s the perfect balance between musicality, unabated energy and something to say — with the boots on to make sure the point comes through loud and clear! The same goes for this entire album, which (recording issues aside) remains very listenable even today. And it leaves no doubt as to why Jimmy Page sought out Rat Scabies to play drums with him shortly after this was released.

• “Teen Angst (What the World Needs Now)” – Cracker Brand, Cracker ­– A catchy, classically rocking track, for sure, but it’s David Lowery’s clever lyrics that make this the keeper it is. No mere sardonic novelty though, the attitude and humor of this song are whipped along perfectly by guitarist Johnny Hickman’s raunchy melodies and clanging chords.

• “Brown Sugar” – Sticky Fingers, The Rolling Stones – What Keef can do with a five-string guitar is more poignant and groovy than most guitarists can do with 12 strings, much less six! This is one of Jagger’s best vocal performances ever (a lot of multi-tracking going on here). And, as is so often the case during this period, Bobby Keys’ sax is fast on the heels of the Human Riff.

• “Debaser” – Doolittle, The Pixies – A perfect example of the Boston band’s twisted take on punky pop rock. Propelled by Kim Deal’s heavy bottom end (bass, that is), Joey Santiago’s fluid lead guitar melodies glide in, out and around Black Francis’ choppy chords and manic vocals.

• “Black Dog” – IV, Led Zeppelin – Those first few seconds of understated guitar scratching are like an engine revving up before the full onslaught of Robert Plant’s a cappella verse vocal and the quintessential hard rock guitar/bass riff. A great performance and production that makes for a powerful start to an incredibly varied album that is also quite possibly the best rock album of all time.

• “Zoo Station” – Achtung Baby, U2 – The stark, steady snare, clanging toms and swirling synthesizer bracing against The Edge’s chiming guitar and Bono’s heavily effected vocals declared that the Irish quartet would be wielding a new sonic palette in the new decade of the 1990s. And indeed they did.

• “Low” – Kerosene Hat, Cracker – Simply a great rock song. One of the true highlights of this band’s long career. Strongly strummed acoustic guitar provides the ground floor, upon which are layered classic rock guitars and cinematic vocals. This is a model of how to do the whole verse/chorus dynamic, not to mention instrumental bridge.

That’s my list … at least for now. There’s another dozen or so songs that nearly made it. What would be on yours?

Stereo Stampede Flim-Flam

Beware the false syllogism ...

Good old American mono? ... Must’ve been those dastardly Germans who came up with that sinister stereo sound!

A Smoking ‘Shelter From the Storm’

This is a burning – and perhaps timely, given the weather forecast – version of “Shelter From the Storm” from Bob Dylan’s second Rolling Thunder Revue Tour (this one in 1976, from which the Hard Rain LP was derived).

It’s not too often that you see Zimmy playing slide guitar! He played slide on “Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat” on Blonde on Blonde according the liner notes, but I don’t recall ever seeing him play slide live before – either on video or during the dozen-plus times I’ve seen him in concert.

And is that an old Airline guitar Dylan’s playing? It looks quite similar to the model more recently re-popularized by Jack White – in red, of course.

Nice headgear, too.

(A tip of the hat to my pal Jim McGaw for the heads up on this video.)

20 Great Protest Songs

“Tin soldiers and Nixon’s coming, we’re finally on our own. / This summer, I hear the drumming, four dead in Ohio.”

... It was 40 years ago today.

Penned with celerity by Neil Young and captured in cathartic splendor by his bandmates only a few weeks after the infamous shootings at Kent State, “Ohio” is without a doubt one of the great protest songs of all time. Today’s remembrance of the events in Ohio on May 4, 1970, and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s impassioned musical response, got me thinking about other outstanding songs of protest in the rock canon.

Of course, there have been dozens of notable protest songs over the years, dating all the way back to the early 20th century. Heck, Woody Guthrie alone could fill a whole songbook with tunes of objection and dissent. (Speaking of songbooks, as I write this, an old folk guitar book, titled Songs of Work and Protest, sits in a bookcase an arm’s length away … Funny how those two go together, isn’t it?) More recently, Billy Bragg has occupied a similar place on the podium of folky protest productivity.

One of the tricky things when considering the genre of protest songs, particularly modern-day ones, is drawing the line between social commentary and actual objection. To me, true protest music must, at the very least, condemn social injustice, abuse of authority, misguided militancy, greed or corruption. Where songs fall in that spectrum of possibilities is purely personal judgment. And I have no doubt that a sound argument could be waged asserting that many of the selections below are more commentary than protest. Nevertheless, this is where I draw that line.

Protest Playlist

I’m not claiming that these are the 10 “best” protest songs – personal or otherwise – because I honestly haven’t given it all that much thought. But these are some good and noteworthy ones that readily come to mind.

Many of these songs deal with war. Nothing gets people’s ire up like the prospect of getting killed – or having to kill someone else. Not surprisingly, many of these tunes hail from that most fertile period of protest (the 1960s), but the early 1980s (the Reagan years) also seem to have elicited a fair amount of outrage, too – at least for musicians and listeners of my vintage. I’ve found many of the anti-Bush/Cheney protest songs of more recent years to be forced or formulaic, thus not quite cutting it for artistic reasons, even if the dissent had some appeal.

• Ohio – C.S.N.&Y. (1970) – As the impetus for this piece, this tune is number one in my book, not only for its sense of wounded indignation and outrage, but also for its searing guitar riff and soaring vocal harmonies (particularly on the later live versions on which David Crosby’s pain-filled howls of “How many more …” reach the heavens). An extra punch of protest was delivered on the B-side of the original single release of this song with the haunting a capella of “Find the Cost of Freedom” … It’s buried in the ground. Say no more.

• For What It’s Worth – Buffalo Springfield (1966) – Young’s early dueling partner, Stephen Stills, penned his own successful rapid response record following the Sunset Strip riots that hit L.A. in 1966. The ringing harmonics of the guitar and the strong vocal chorus of this song are nothing short of iconic. “Stop, hey, children, what’s that sound? Everybody look what’s going down.”

• Hurricane – Bob Dylan (1975) – Dylan had already logged his share of protest songs, but this epic ballad from the Desire/Rolling Thunder Revue-era is one of his best. Bob teamed with playwright Jacques Levy to compose a potent protest of the legal injustice and racism that saw boxer Rubin “Hurricane” Carter unfairly tried, convicted and imprisoned for a murder he didn’t commit: “Rubin Carter was falsely tried … / To see him obviously framed / Couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land / Where justice is a game. … / Now all the criminals in their suits and their ties / Are free to drink martinis and watch the sunrise / While Rubin sits like Buddha in a 10-foot cell / An innocent man in a living hell.”

• Masters of War – Bob Dylan (1962) – This song (along with “God On Our Side” and more general expressions of the Civil Rights era, like “Blowin’ in the Wind” and “The Times They Are A-Changin’”) are what got Bobby pigeonholed as a protest singer to begin with. This was something he protested against, of course, eventually drifting away from social causes into another motor-psycho nightmare/daydream all together.

• War – Bob Marley(1976) – Despite its subsequent association with Sinead O’Connor’s infamous Pope-ripping appearance on SNL, this stark, talking blues with a reggae groove is a simple and direct condemnation of social and political injustice, with explication of the assuredly continuing state of affairs until those injustices are recognized and reconciled. This is protest music above all else!

• War – Bruce Springsteen (1985) – This live cover of the late 1960s’ soul-tinged tune by Edwin Starr was popularized for a later generation by The Boss. Springsteen’s reflective introductory comments and impassioned delivery make this a mighty protest that is all his own. He explodes into this song, like only Bruce can.

• My City Was Gone – The Pretenders (1983) – Sticking with the Ohio theme, Chrissie and Co. lament the rape of the urban landscape and vitality of downtown Akron, misguidedly replaced instead by shopping malls and parking lots.

• Country at War – X (1983) – John Doe and Exene Cervenka’s L.A. quartet compares actual warfare to the social combat waged upon the down-and-out in Reagan-era America. A forgotten gem.

• Sunday Bloody Sunday – U2 (1983) – From The Edge’s descending guitar riff to Bono’s hummed intro and Irish fiddlemaster Steve Wickham’s wicked embellishments throughout the song, this tune transcends Ireland’s 1921 Sinn Fein/Black-and-Tans conflict and the tragically repetitive events that occurred in Derry in 1972, applying the indignation and disgust over those notorious incidents to all senseless acts of violence. “I’m so sick of it,” indeed.

• Give Peace a Chance – John & Yoko (1969) – It’s atypical in its lack of vitriol relative to most of the other protest songs on this list, but this early Lennon-Ono gem is as defiant as any of the songs here. It’s utterly connected to the era, yet timeless, too. Proof, once again, that the most poignant protest is often the simplest (think man sitting in front of tank).

• Fortunate Son – Creedence Clearwater Revival (1969) – One of the quintessential songs of the ’60s counterculture’s disaffected youth, this CCR classic condemns a generation, a whole way of life, class inequity and militarism. Potent stuff.

• Common Man – The Blasters (1984) – At the time, this was a specific indictment of President Reagan and his faux populist posturing, but it remains equally applicable to any insincere smile flashed in front of a flag. Dave Alvin’s blistering, bluesy, rockabilly guitar provides perfect punctuation to brother Phil’s condemnation.

• I’m So Bored with the U.S.A. – The Clash (1977) – Given the pervasive influence of American culture around the world, it makes for a worthy target of protest by those powerlessly subjected to its omnipresence ... especially London punks in 1977.

• Wasted Life – Stiff Little Fingers (1979) – This is another anti-soldiery ode (re: either literal or metaphorical war) with a more personal perspective; barked out in a Belfast accent with driving guitar and speedy snare drums.

• Warrior – Steve Earle (2004) – Earle has many songs that could merit a place on this list (perhaps most notably “F the CC” from the same album), but this is an interesting twist on the lefty troubadour’s usual schtick. This urgent spoken-word recitation over a rock tune remonstrates the noble warrior’s fall from grace and esteem ion our culture (think Native American warrior vs. modern-day Army grunt).

• Mercury Poisoning – Graham Parker (1978) – This is a great protest/kiss-off pop song, even if it’s only protesting record company ineptitude. Self-described by GP as sounding like “cavemen on crack,” he is ably assisted by his protégés in snide: The Rumour. “I got a dinosaur for a representative. It’s got a small brain and refuses to learn.”

• Sun Green – Neil Young (2003) – Sure it’s embedded in the context of Neil’s much-underrated audio play/concept album (Greendale), but character details and story aside, this is an artistic and powerful condemnation of corporate greed and governmental corruption – even if the pro-environment message goes a little over the top at points. “Hey, Mr. Clean, you’re dirty now, too.”

• Roosevelt Room – Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band (2009) – The Bright Eyes boy seldom rocks like this, sounding here like Jon Langford (The Mekons et al) meeting Cracker – a kick-ass combo, in my book! Anti-authoritarian with a vengeance. (Bonus points for name-checking HST.)

• I Shot the Sheriff – Bob Marley (1973) – The height of personal protest: “They say they want to bring me in guilty for the killing of a deputy. But I say, ‘I shot the sheriff, but I didn’t shoot no deputy.’”

• Brainwashed – George Harrison (2002) – On one of his last recordings, the quiet Beatle remained true-to-form and crafted a poppy, spiritual protest against the consumer and institutional brainwashing inherent in so much of modern life.

I’m sure there should be some Pearl Jam on here somewhere. What would you add, from them or others?